by SE Reign
“We don’t need protecting.”
Did I mention my mother is also stubborn? My stomach starts to lurch, and I stand and hurry to the restroom.
Another bout of dry heaving, and I’m about to give up on leaving my apartment, let alone driving to Ohio.
“Baby, you okay?”
I’d protest my mom pushing the door open but don’t feel like it.
“Oh, Natty, what’s wrong?” She immediately wets a washcloth and carefully maneuvers her way to kneel. The cold cloth feels heavenly at the back of my neck. I rest my head against the wall and close my eyes, grateful my mom is there.
She wipes another cold cloth across my face.
“My head is killing me,” I mumble.
“How long you been sick?”
“Just kinda hit today. Felt a little queasy the past couple of days,” I respond. “Must be coming down with something.”
“Could be.” She climbs to her feet with effort and sets down one of the cloths. “Baby, you’re not pregnant are you?”
I laugh. “No, mom.”
“This is how it starts sometimes. You’re not late?”
I don’t think I’ve ever talked about sex or private matters like this with my mother. Our focus has always been on my father’s health issues, and I learned about sex in school.
“Not that I know of,” I reply and push myself up. “I should be starting today.”
“But you haven’t.”
“Omigod, mom. You and Alisha and your conspiracy theories. I’ve been really careful.”
“Maybe you should take a test to rule it out.” She bends over and begins digging around the total disaster that exists under the sink.
“I don’t need to. I’ll drop by the clinic on the way home.”
“They’ll do the same, and you don’t want the press to find out you took a test do you?”
I open my mouth to object but realize she’s kind of right. If my identity leaked after one night in Elijah’s penthouse, then there’s a good chance what I’m doing at a medical center will, too. There are more people who will have access to my file and me.
“Fine. I’ll take the test, then I’ll go to the doctor’s,” I say.
“All right, baby.” My mom fishes a test out.
“How do you know I have those?” I ask, face hot.
“You’re a single girl. I never assume the worst about my daughter, but you’re a grown woman with a good head on her shoulders. I’m glad to see you learned to take certain precautions.”
She’s right, of course. I have condoms and pregnancy tests, supplies I’m pretty sure every single woman has somewhere in her house. I also know my mother was only ever with my father, which makes me more embarrassed seeing her pull out condoms and a three pack of pregnancy tests.
She says nothing about either but replaces the condoms and sets the tests on the counter.
“Thanks, mom.” I feel like I’m thirteen again. I can’t even meet her gaze.
“I’ll make you some tea,” she tells me and leaves the bathroom.
My god. I can’t recall the last time I was this embarrassed. Even being naked with Elijah the first time, I didn’t feel this ashamed.
I’m only doing this to make Mom happy. I did have unprotected sex with Elijah for the first whole week, but he seemed to think it was okay, claiming it was close enough to the end of my previous period. I’ve been on birth control a solid three weeks since, so I don’t think it’s at all possible that I’m pregnant.
With a sigh, I unwrap the first test.
Less than a minute later, I’m unwrapping a second.
Five minutes later, I’m trying a third.
I toss all three and sit on top of the closed toilet.
Holy fuck. I can’t think, can’t even breathe. Suddenly, I look at the trip to Ohio in an entirely new light.
I need as much leverage as I can get, because I have a feeling if Elijah ever finds out about this, he’ll never let me go and never stop looking for me if I do manage to disappear.
Feeling sick for a different reason, I straighten my clothing and brace myself to leave the bathroom.
“You okay, baby?” Mom calls as soon as she hears the door open.
“Yep. Took it three times. All negative,” I lie.
“Well good. I didn’t want to tell you this before knowing, but I really think you deserve better.” She returns from the kitchen to the dining table with two cups of steaming tea and looks at me with a smile. “I don’t care how rich he is, a man like that will never deserve my baby and has no place being a father.”
I flinch, because Elijah says the same about himself.
Mom is gazing at me. “It wasn’t negative, was it?”
Shit. “Let’s just drop it for now,” I say calmly. “Mom, there’s somewhere I need to go.”
She stares at me, and I have a feeling she’s trying to figure out whether she can ditch her hard core stance on abortion when it comes to a man she clearly despises.
“Not …” I clear my throat. “Not to deal with this.” I can’t even say it, because right now, my emotions are reeling. I need to sit down and sob myself into oblivion. “But it’s important.”
For the first time since I can remember, she doesn’t seem to know what to say.
“Sorry.” I stride into the kitchen and grab my purse then the disposable cell phone. “I’ll be back in a couple of days and will explain everything.”
“Okay, Natty,” she manages. “If you need anything, call me.”
“Thanks. I’ll drop this in the garbage room.” I grab the turkey trash bag.
I leave, wired with energy and emotions I can’t remotely begin to decipher. Instead, I go to the trash and recycling closet, a broom closet sized room with four chutes leading to different bins in the basement of the apartment building. Three are for recycling – labeled paper, plastic, cans – while the fourth is strictly for trash.
Tossing the bag down the chute, I tug the wig out of my purse and put it on quickly, tucking my brown curls beneath it, then peel off the sweater I’m wearing to reveal the t-shirt beneath. I stuff the sweater in my purse, pull out sunglasses and the key Alisha left me, and leave the closet.
There are two stairwells in the ancient building: one to the lobby and one to the garage. I hurry down to the garage. Each step brings more emotion, and by the time I reach the underground parking area, I’m in tears.
I can’t do this. I sag against the wall, unable to comprehend the idea of being pregnant. Especially now. With him. Breathe and think, Natty.
I can’t afford a breakdown now. I need to stay focused in order to concentrate on driving. After all, pretty much my whole life is about to rely on my ability to reach Ohio in time to discover my leverage.
I hurry to the side of the garage where residents park, already knowing Alisha’s assigned number.
Despite her warning about not calling her until I get to Ohio, I really, really need my best friend right now. Dialing her number, I slow my step.
“Hey.” I hear the voice from somewhere behind me, but Alisha’s warm greeting soon absorbs all my attention.
“Natty! Are you there?” she nearly squeals.
“N…no,” I manage. “Not in Ohio.”
“Omigod. You never could follow instructions!” she sighs. “You can’t use this phone again, Natty, you know that! What am I –”
“Alisha!” I almost yell. “Hush for a minute!”
She falls silent.
I can’t talk. I’m starting to cry.
“Are you okay?” she whispers. “Did Elijah do something bad?”
“No. I’m just … I need my best friend right now.”
I reach the car she’s left for me and lean against it, trembling. I can’t speak.
“What’s wrong?” she ventures.
Swallowing hard, I wipe my nose on my hand. “Oh, just the worst thing ever.”
“You and I have very different perceptions of what that could be. I’m thin
king apocalypse. Probably not what you’re thinking.”
I give a messy, sobbing laugh. “I love you, Alisha. I’ve m….missed you.”
“Ditto, kiddo,” she says, quoting my father. “So not the apocalypse and you’re still in New York, though Elijah is traveling.”
I nod, even knowing she can’t hear me.
“You obviously found the note and everything. Are you going to Ohio?”
“Yeah.”
“Good.” There’s a smug note in her voice that makes me think it’s got something to do with George, though why she’s out to get Elijah’s head of security, I have no idea. “You gonna tell me what’s wrong, or do I get to keep making shit up?”
“No. Can’t yet,” I say. “Let’s just say, I need all the leverage I can get.”
“Ohhh, a puzzle!” she exclaims. “I have to tell you that right now, I’ve been shut down. I’m working on repairing everything, but that idiot did a number on my systems. I’ll need a second job to repair this shit.”
I smile and close my eyes, loving the sound of her voice. She’s been my crazy best friend for as long as I can remember, and I’ve really needed her the past few weeks.
“Once I can, I’ll figure out your secret and his!” she finishes gleefully.
“You want my credit card number?” I ask.
“No! I’ll never take your money.”
“It’s Elijah’s.”
There’s a pause, then, “Gimme.”
I giggle and pull out the black AmEx. It’s in my wallet, next to the gift card he gave me. My giddy moment flees. I finger the Starbucks card and feel something new: despair.
There was a moment when I really thought we had a chance.
“Ready,” Alisha interrupts my painful thoughts.
I blink away more tears. Reading her the numbers and expiration date, I hear her sigh.
“It’s only fair, right? I mean, his people destroyed my stuff. He should buy me new stuff.”
“I agree,” I reply with a smile. “Though I have a feeling they’ll probably know who used it and may come find you.”
“I can fix that,” she says confidently. “You’re not going to give me a hint as to what’s wrong?”
I hesitate. I know of all the people in my life, I can trust her with anything. But I’m also terrified of what someone like her and my mother will say in response to my news. Afraid their opinions are going to wipe me out mentally, when I’m struggling to stay on my feet.
“You may be an aunt soon,” I reply at last.
Silence.
“Just … keep it quiet and don’t tell me to head to the women’s clinic because you hate Elijah,” I add quickly. “I need to get my head straight before I figure out what to do.”
Silence.
“You there?” I ask curiously.
“You just blew my mind.”
“That’s about how I feel.”
I can almost hear her mind working. I haven’t even asked for assistance, but she’s already calculating how to help.
“So I’m gonna do a cash advance off the card to create a slush fund,” she says. “This is gonna be hard. That bastard George is really good.”
“Not better than you,” I say.
“Well …”
“Are you serious?” I demand. “I’ve never heard you doubt yourself like that!”
“Oh, I don’t doubt. I have a feeling I’ll be the first person he comes to find, once you disappear. So I need to disappear with you.” She pauses. “You know what? I’ll figure it out while you’re driving to Ohio. Call me when you get there, okay?”
“Yeah. I can do that.” I smile to myself, feeling a little better after telling Alisha. “I’m so happy to talk to you, Alisha.”
“Yeah, me, too,” she admits. “Drive carefully. You need to chuck this phone before you leave the garage. You remember how you bought disposables before?”
“Yeah.”
“Do that when you get to Ohio.”
“Okay, thanks. I’ll talk to you soon.”
“You, too!”
I hang up. With a deep breath, I start to think things won’t be that bad at all, now that I’ve got Alisha at my side again. Pushing away from the car, I hurry across to the gaping garbage can and toss the phone in. It’s a little scary to be without any sort of technology, especially a phone, but also very freeing.
“Natalie.” The voice again. This time, it registers as being familiar.
I turn and freeze.
It’s the mystery texter, the man who confronted me during the meetings with the designers. He’s well dressed and calm, his gaze too assessing to be friendly.
“What do you want?” I ask. I jam my hand into my pocket to grab the key. As a single woman who works late nights in New York, I’ve learned how to use keys in self-defense as weapons if needed.
“I need you to come with me,” he replies.
“Um, no, thanks. I need to get going.”
“It’s important, Ms. Hanover.” Recognizing the female voice, I turn. Maya is standing between two men large enough to be bouncers. They’re wearing ski masks to hide their features.
“Maya, are you okay?” I ask, alarmed.
“Very well, Ms. Hanover,” she answers with her normal crispness. “We need you to come with us.”
We. My heart drops lower into my belly. “You’re working with this man.”
“Among others, yes,” the mystery man replies. “She’s been the eyes and ears in His Highness’s household.”
“But Elijah is your cousin,” I say to Maya. “Why would you do that to him?”
Maya appears unconcerned about betraying a family member and the man who hired her.
“She serves the King of Nijala first and protects the country’s interests,” the man answers for her.
She nods her head in agreement.
This isn’t about me at all. I’m a pawn in Nijalan politics. Malika warned me about the complexity of my new role, but I didn’t think it’d extend to this, whatever this really is. If what the press has said is true, the Nijalan King and Elijah have been at each other’s throats for years. Is this an extension of whatever their issues are? Have I been dragged into it because of my association with Elijah?
“Look, whatever issues Elijah and his father have, I’ve got no influence over him. Elijah won’t miss me if I’m gone,” I say, backing away slowly. The car is about twenty feet away, but there’s a good chance I won’t reach it with the four of them.
“We are only obeying my king,” the man replies. “Know that this is not personal.”
Not personal? What the fuck? I start forward, wanting to get back to my car and lock the doors.
He blocks my path, and I stop.
“I’ve got two security guys one floor up. It won’t take much for them to hear me.”
“We understood that risk.” He motions to Maya.
“I told them I’m with you and for them to go to for your morning Starbucks,” Maya says, waving her phone.
I turn, panic sliding through me. The two bouncers are moving closer. I open my mouth to scream. One of them grabs me, and a foul-smelling cloth is clamped across my mouth and nose. I struggle for mere seconds before my body gives out.
Elijah’s face crosses my mind. It’s the last thing I recall before the darkness.
Chapter Ten: Elijah
I’ve spent the day talking to Suleyma with George quietly looking on and surfing his secure iPad. Every hour, he leaves to drive through the neighborhood again, his security training far too engrained for him to relax for more than a few minutes.
The puppy has decided it likes me and won’t leave its spot lying across my feet, unless it’s to grab a new toy to play with.
“Three thirty. Bus should be here soon.” Suleyma stands. “She’ll be so excited to see you, Elijah.” Smiling, she goes to stand on the porch.
I’m a little less optimistic, knowing the teenage girl with the Micah attitude is probably going to have some things
to say to me that I don’t care to hear.
“Texas.” It’s the first time George and I have had to talk in relative private since arriving.
“Her choice.”
He raises an eyebrow. I have no doubts everything will be arranged before the end of our trip, despite how much I know he hates sudden changes in plans.
“I’m on a new bend to be more sensitive,” I say with some difficulty. ‘Thought I’d try it out.”
“Growing is good.”
And painful.
Smiling to himself, George lowers his gaze to the iPad. His smile turns into a tight line.
“Took too long, but I know who that creep is from the designers’ show.” He hands me his iPad.
There are a few shots of the stranger on the screen, the man I know I’ve seen before but couldn’t place. The open document next to it, however, crystalizes everything.
“Fuck,” I mutter. “Father’s pets.” My father, the king, sent a member of the Nijalan Security Bureau here. “I knew I recognized him. No doubt I saw him when I was home.” I hand it back. “I guess I’m not surprised.”
“Your father’s pets train with Israeli Mossad and CIA,” George points out. “This is Hassan, the youngest director in the history of the Bureau. If he’s here, it’s not a good sign.”
Hassan’s story is coming back to me. While I’ve been away for too long to have known him, Malika has told me about the ambitious man in the photo. George is right; he’s too high ranking not to have been sent here by my father personally, which means my father trusts him.
Which is very, very bad.
“He ignored me and went after Natalie.” I lean forward, elbows on my knees. “Those texts we found seem to indicate he was trying to scare her off.” Fury is building in my chest. I’m not expecting it to be as intense as it feels, a reflection of what I experienced when I saw the bastard grab her arm. “What’s my father’s game? Fucking up my life in the public eye, so he can disinherit me?”
“Looks that way.”
“I’m fucking good at doing that myself.” I stand and pace to the window, too angry to rationalize what all this means. “Double the security around Natalie. I don’t want my father’s people near her.”