by Evan Grace
The brown-haired man stares at me with a smirk on his lips. “Becky, I think she figured it out.”
I look at my mom, and she doesn’t even look remorseful. A contraction starts up again and I cry out, gripping my stomach. I look at him and grit out between clenched teeth, “You’re so dead.”
He jerks his hand out and grabs my hair, making me scream. He gets down right in my face. “You better watch what you say to me, darlin’, because what your mom doesn’t know is I’ve got a real nasty temper. I’d really hate to do something that could hurt you enough that I’ve got to cut that kid out of you.” I moan and wrap my hands around my belly.
“Mitch?” I hear my mom say from beside me. “Stop, you’re scaring her.” She laughs like it’s funny.
“Becky, shut the fuck up.” He looks at his watch, and back at me. “It’s time to check you again. Behave, because I can make this a lot more painful.” I nod because I’m not stupid. I won’t risk my child.
My mom helps me lie back, and I turn my head away. I stare at and focus on the picture of Reece and me as Mitch sticks his fingers inside of me. “Shit, you’re going fast. She’s about seven centimeters and almost completely thinned out.”
“I had her really fast. From beginning to end it was about four hours.” She strokes my hair. “It won’t be long before we get that mistake out of you. You’ll be able to have the life I was supposed to have, but instead I had you.”
My insides shrivel up at her words. I was nothing more to her than a mistake. My baby was not a mistake, and I would never regret him. I’m going to shower him in so much love he’ll never doubt that we wanted him. Why didn’t she give me to my dad if I ruined her life?
My body is covered in a fine sheen of sweat. I’m so tired, but I don’t dare fall asleep. I need to figure out how to get out of here. I push off the bed until I’m standing. My mom moves in next to me. “What are you doing? I need to tie you back up.”
“Can I please walk around for a little bit?” I look between the two of them, trying to keep my voice calm. “Where am I going to go?”
“Fine, but stay in this room only,” he says, and stomps out of the room.
I hear the front door open and slam shut. I start to have another contraction and hold onto the wall as the pain becomes too much. I cry because how am I supposed to get away when the contractions are closer together? My mom doesn’t offer me any comfort or support while I contract. I just breathe through it, and imagine that Reece is whispering in my ear, telling me that I’m doing great, and soon our son will be here, and to just let my body do what it’s supposed to.
Once it fades I start pacing back and forth, or as much as I can with the pump and tubing keeping me close. Mom gets up and I’m assuming it’s to go find Mitch. The front door opens, and I hear his voice. I move away from the opening.
The sound of someone snorting pulls my attention to the other room, followed by my mom’s giggle. I move toward the window, and slowly ease it open. Peeking out, I see that the drop is too far for me to go out it.
I shut it and pull the IV from my hand, ignoring the blood running down my hand because if I see it, I’m going to pass out. I poke my head out where my mom and Mitch disappeared. They’re making out on the couch; I don’t miss the mirror with white powder on it, or the bottle of wine.
I’m hoping now that the medicine is no longer pumping into my body that my contractions will slow down. I look around the room, but make sure I stay hidden so they can’t see me. The door is near the sofa where they’re presently making out. Could I make a run for it and be out the door before they could stop me?
I head back into the room as I begin to have another contraction. I put my fist in my mouth, biting down to keep from crying out. I can taste blood, and I don’t know if I broke the skin or it’s from where I pulled the IV out. Again, I don’t look—I can’t. I pant through the pain; this time it lasts longer.
When it ends, I move into the bathroom. I look at myself in the mirror, and cringe. My blonde hair is still in a braid, but I’ve got pieces sticking out all over. My cheeks are flushed, and my eyes are bright. I place my hands on my belly. “I promise I’m going to get us out of here,” I whisper.
I look around for a weapon of any sort. I’m not afraid to use violence. I’ll die before they get their hands on me or my son. My eyes land on the toilet, and I realize I’ve got the perfect weapon. I grab the lid that sits on the tank.
I sit down on the toilet as I begin to contract again. This time I can’t hold in the moan that rips from my lips. Oh shit, this is it. They’re going to be coming. Once the contraction slows, I take a deep breath and stand up on wobbly legs. I clutch the cool porcelain in my hands.
Someone starts pounding on the door, and it makes me jump. “Open the fucking door,” Mitch barks at me. “If I have to bust down this door, you’re going to be sorry.” The doorknob jiggles. “Open the door. I’m not fucking around.” I hear him yell at my mom, “Come get this bitch to let me in!”
“Delilah, just open the door. We’re not going to hurt you.”
“You’re not taking my son,” I shout.
I can hear them arguing. Someone stomps off, and a door slams. Banging starts again along with another contraction, and I begin to moan and cry, leaning against the wall. Something slams into the door, and I know it’s Mitch. This is my chance. I stand next to the door with the lid raised up.
This time when he slams into the door, it opens and I bring the lid down on his head, knocking him down. The lid breaks apart and I drop it. I move to step around him as a gush of water hits the floor between my legs. “Nooo…” I moan. Where’s my mom?
I grab my belly as I feel more fluid run down my legs. I try to walk through the pain, and once it fades, I move on quick feet to the door. I don’t see my mom anywhere, so I take off toward the road. I only make it about a hundred yards before I begin contracting again.
I lean against the trunk of a tree and cover my mouth with my hand, trying to muffle my screams. That doesn’t work so I sink my teeth into my forearm. More fluid leaks from me, and I feel a pressure between my legs that I didn’t feel before. As soon as it fades, I hold my belly and try to run.
“Delilah!” I hear my mother’s voice, and I move toward the woods to use the trees as cover. “Get back here!”
I keep moving, ignoring the pain in my feet from the pebbles digging into my skin, or the fact that it’s gotten chilly. I’ve got one objective, and that’s to get as far away as I can from them. The sun is setting, casting a dark shadow in the woods, which is better for me to hide in.
My knees hit the ground as a contraction so strong hits me I cry out. I hear pounding footsteps and try crawling toward some brush to hide, but a hand grabs my hair. I look up into the very angry eyes of my mom. Before I can react, she slaps me across the face. “You’re ruining everything.”
Mitch comes stumbling into the clearing with blood running down his face. My eyes start to flutter shut, but he lunges at me and starts dragging me by my hair back in the direction we just came from. “No, let me go!” I shout, hoping someone hears me. Another contraction hits me, and I scream. The urge to push hits me hard, but I fight it. I can’t do it out here—I can’t do it around the people that want to take my baby.
My mom stands in the clearing, shaking her head at me. “Why do you have to be so difficult?”
“Mom,” I moan. “Please don’t d-do this.” Mitch lets go of me and I fall to my side, clutching my belly. “I have to push.” Mitch moves toward me, but I scramble away in a crab walk.
He puts his hands on my knees. I try to kick him away, but I begin contracting again. Mitch lifts the nightgown and looks at my mom. “I see the head. Go get some towels—we can’t move her.” He turns to look back at me. “If you would’ve just stayed where you were, I’d at least be able to give you something for the pain. Now you get to suffer.”
“Fuck you,” I scream in his face.
He raises his hand lik
e he’s going to hit me when I hear a twig snap. “You touch her, and I won’t hesitate blowing your fucking brains out.”
I look behind me and find my dad, Reece, and Erik with their guns drawn on Mitch. Then like in a movie there’s a flurry of activity, and what looks like the whole team shows up. Reece tackles Mitch before anyone can stop him, punching the asshole twice in the face before Erik pulls Reece off so he can bind Mitch’s hands together with some zip ties.
Marcus has my mom with her hands zip tied in front of her and leads her over to where they sat Mitch.
Reece gets down next to me, smoothing my hair out of my face. “You’re here,” I say lamely.
He gives me that devastating grin of his, but when he opens his mouth to speak I cry out, clutching my belly. “I have to push, I have to.”
My dad gets down in front of me. “Baby girl, let me have a look, okay?” He lifts the nightgown. “Someone give me their shirt, and I need something to tie the cord off.” He looks at me, his eyes shining bright. “You’re about to be a mom.”
As soon as the contraction hits, he tells me to push. Reece gets behind me, and I rest my back against his chest. He reaches down, grabs my thighs, and pulls them back as a scream rips from my throat. There’s an intense burning, and I feel like I’m being torn apart. They tell me to push again, and with all my might I push until I feel something slip from my body, and then the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard. My son’s cries are strong and loud.
I look at my dad, who’s looking down at the baby and then back up at me. “Uh…I think the ultrasound was wrong.” He holds my “son” up. That’s when I notice there’s one vital part missing. “It’s a girl.”
Reece kisses the side of my head and hugs me to his chest. Dad lays my daughter in my arms. She’s covered in Erik’s shirt, and I kiss her little cone head. My eyes drift to my mom, who isn’t even looking at me or her grandchild. Hollowness fills me, and I look away. Thankfully I don’t have time to dwell on it because the ambulance has arrived, and the paramedics are coming toward us.
Chapter Twenty-One
Reece
Delilah slept most of the way to the hospital once they delivered the placenta. Rage filled me when I sawthe bruise blooming on her cheek, knowing that one of them put their hands on her. It took everything I had not to shoot either one of them on the spot. Now that asshole Mitch is sitting behind bars, along with Del’s crazy mother, and they can’t hurt her or my daughter anymore.
My daughter…my daughter is fucking gorgeous. When Jack held her up and said, “It’s a girl,” I felt warmth in my chest that I’ve never experienced before. The moment she was in Delilah’s arms, it multiplied by a hundred.
She’s perfect—ten fingers, ten toes, dark-brown hair on her head, and chubby cheeks to die for. Del’s sleeping, so my girl and I have been bonding. “Are you daddy’s pretty girl?”
She yawns and brings her little fist up to her mouth, and I smile down at her. A knock at the door has me turning. My mom and dad stand there with flowers and a blue teddy bear. I can’t wait to tell them that he’s really a she. “Hey guys, come on in. Del’s sleeping.” My mom looks at her as they walk in and gives a soft smile. “Would you like to meet your granddaughter?”
My mom holds out her arms, but then freezes. “Granddaughter?”
I smile. “Surprise! Apparently, the ultrasound was wrong, because he is really a she.”
“Congratulations, son.” Dad claps his hand on my shoulder. “What a beauty like her mother.”
I hand the baby to my mom, who cradles her to her chest. “Oh my. She’s a big girl, isn’t she?” She smiles at the baby. “You are such a pretty girl.” Mom rocks her slowly back and forth. “How’s Delilah?”
“So far she’s okay. She’s been quiet, but I figure the adrenaline rush is wearing off.”
“I still can’t believe it was her mother. My heart breaks for her, having a mother like that. She was willing to sell your baby.”
Rage fills me when I think about it, but I push it back. “She’s in jail. My guess she won’t be getting out for a long time.”
They leave a short time later, wanting to give us a chance to rest. Everyone else said they’d come tomorrow, including Brandon. He’d been out of town for work for the past month, and I know he’s desperate to see them, especially when I filled him in on what happened, but he agreed that both girls need their rest.
The baby begins to cry, and my guess is she’s hungry. I turn to Delilah and see she’s watching us. “Hey, baby. I think our girl is hungry. Do you want to try nursing?” She nods, and I call the nurse.
“Hi guys, I’m Stella. What do you need?” The nurse, an older redhead, uses some foam stuff on her hands.
“We think the baby’s hungry, and Delilah wants to try nursing.”
“Okay, great. Delilah, I’m going to sit you up.” The head of the bed rises. Stella sets a pillow in Delilah’s lap. “Okay Dad, I’ll take the baby.”
I hate giving her up to a stranger, but I’m not leaving her side. She sets our daughter in Del’s arms, and then pulls the front of Delilah’s gown down, exposing her breast. Our daughter is a genius, and immediately latches on to that nipple. I sit on the bed next to Delilah and kiss the side of her head as we watch our daughter eat.
***
My mom helps Delilah get dressed in the bathroom after her shower. My girls are coming home today, and we still have to pick out our daughter’s name. Every time I ask Delilah, she shrugs her shoulders and says she wants to think about it. I’m sure it’s just because she’s exhausted. Brandon showed up first thing in the morning with breakfast and held and doted on his goddaughter—so much so that I finally had to take her back.
When Egan and Carrie show up, Brandon pulls me into the hallway. “Is Delilah okay? She seems quiet—withdrawn.” Her friend’s clearly worried.
“Do you blame her? Her mom was going to steal her baby and sell it. To make matters worse, she had to deliver the baby in the woods.”
“Fucking Becky…she’s always made it her life mission to put Del down, to hurt her. Becky always thought having a girl that she was getting a partner in crime, a best friend, not a daughter. Del was not wild like Becky. She was always quiet, loved to read, and was always studious. Who teases and makes fun of their child for getting good grades? Moving here was so good for her, and when she got pregnant, she thought maybe her mom would be happy, and they’d bond.”
“But that didn’t happen,” I say, and Brandon nods. “I’ll keep an eye on her and stop by whenever you want to see them. It’ll be good for her to be surrounded by people who love her.”
Brandon steps in close. “Thank you for being a good guy. I worried about her when she got pregnant, wondering if the guy who did it was a total douche, but clearly she got very lucky. You’re great, Reece.” He claps me on the shoulder and then disappears down the hall.
Now, as I step back into the room after running home, I know I need to keep an eye on things. I find my mom braiding Delilah’s hair, our daughter cradled in her arms. I give her a smile when I sit down across from them. “Have you thought of a name yet?” I ask her. “I like the name Charlotte.” It was my grandmother’s—my mom’s mom—name. It’s classic, but I love it for my princess.
“I like it.” She turns to my mom. “What’s your middle name?”
I’m curious as to why she asked that.
“It’s Jane.”
Delilah looks at me. “Charlotte Jane Meyers. That’s her name.”
I won’t lie—I’m a little choked up right now, because it’s perfect. My mom hugs Delilah from behind and kisses her cheek. “Thank you, beautiful girl.”
I call the nurse in so they can register our daughter’s name for her birth certificate and social security card. After that, I run down to get the car while Mom stays with Delilah. Once the valet brings my 4Runner up, a nurse is wheeling Delilah out with my mom following with Charlotte in her carrier.
I get both of my girls sett
led into the back, and my mom gets into my dad’s car. They’re going to stay with us for a couple of days to help, which I’m thankful for because my anxiety grows the closer we get to home.
I’m thankful we’ve been so busy since the baby came because I haven’t had time to think about those few hours I didn’t know where she was, or if she was okay. Turns out that piece of shit who took her was a paramedic and stole all the stuff they needed to deliver Charlotte. At least he knew what he was doing. When we came up on them, the shit head had his hand up and was ready to strike her.
Her screams while she’d pushed our daughter out had scared the shit out of me, but the moment my little girl cried, I’d wanted to do flips.
I pull into the driveway and tell Delilah to wait and I’ll come help her out. After I do, my mom and dad, who pulled up next to us, grab the bags for me while I grab the carrier.
We get inside and I get the baby out of her carrier, passing her to Delilah so she can nurse her. Then I want Delilah to lie down and take a nap. She needs her rest. My mom follows them upstairs. I flop down on the sofa and tip my head back, staring at the ceiling.
“You okay, son? I know it’s a little overwhelming at first, but you’ll find your rhythm. That’s why we’re only staying a few days. Your mom’s going to make some meals. All you’ll have to do is pop them in the oven. We’ll keep an eye on the princess so you guys can get some sleep too.”
“Thanks, Dad. I’m glad they’re both home, and safe. I’m just freaked a little, but I’ll be okay.”
“Your grandma would be so pleased that your daughter has her name. It was really sweet that Delilah gave her your mom’s middle name as well.” He sits down next to me. “We’ll order out tonight, our treat. I’ll call Jack and see if he wants to join us.” I hug him quick.