Chasing Fire: (Fire and Fury Book One)

by Avery Kingston

  Tori always kept a few spares in her desk. “Yeah, of course.” She opened her top drawer and felt around until she found the wrapper and handed it to her. “Here you go.”

  “How do you, um, deal with that anyway?”

  “Deal with what?” Tori asked sweetly, knowing full well what she meant.

  “You know, that.”

  “Better than you do, Miss Period Emergency.” Tori quirked her mouth up.

  Darlene grunted. Apparently, she didn’t think the joke was as funny.

  Maybe that’s the reason I don’t have many female friends.

  Tori waved her hand. “Please see him in.”

  After her interview, she tried to get back to work. Darlene’s words nagged at the back of her mind as her stomach slightly cramped, as it had been for two days now. She should be starting soon. With the VoiceOver on her phone she navigated to her calendar.

  Two months. No period in two months.

  That couldn’t possibly be right. Her body was like clockwork. She checked again.

  Jane was in charge of labeling her medication. Damn you, Jane. Her sister had never taken a birth control pill in her life, the baby-making machine she was.

  Scott was the only one she never used a condom with, but she’d also been with Chase. She assumed he used a condom, but she never made sure. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Why are you so stupid? Beads of sweat formed as her shirt started to stick to her back. She tried to breathe, but all the air had left her lungs.

  Finally, she collected herself enough to call Keith and sent him to the pharmacy.

  “Well?” she asked, her voice echoing off the bathroom walls. “Anything?” Tori’s heart was pumping so fast, the warmth of blood pulsing in her ears.

  “You can call me Uncle Keith,” he said in his sassiest tone possible.

  Tori’s head spun. No, no, no. This cannot be happening. She fell against the wall and slid to the floor, her cane crashing to the tile.

  Keith sat next to her and patted her hand. “Ok, we can deal with this. This is Scott’s, right?” Tori bit her lip. “Oh, sweet girl. For the love of God, please tell me it’s Scott’s.”

  “Yes, most likely, God, I… I…” Tori stammered, and tears started to flow. She couldn’t even think straight.

  “You mean this could be Hipster Jesus’s baby?”

  God, I hope not.

  “I’m ninety-five percent sure it’s Scott’s.” Tori sobbed and laughed at the same time. It was so unbelievably ironic. Just when I thought my life was coming back together.

  “Vickeeee, girl… You’re a ho,” he said in a loving, yet sarcastic tone, only the way Keith could do. “Seriously. You didn’t use a condom? What about the emergency sex bag?”

  “I kinda got caught up in the moment.” Tori tugged her lip.

  “Dammit, Vic. You know better,” he scolded. “What in the hell are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know.” She was barely adjusting how to take care of herself, much less a baby.

  Keith sat, put his arm around her, and gave her a big hug. “Oh, sweetie. You’ll figure it out. You always do.”

  “When was your last menstrual period?” Dr. Lee, her OB asked her.

  “About nine weeks ago.”

  If it’s Chase’s, you know what you have to do. Her stomach lurched.

  No, there was no way. It was Scott’s. She was certain of it. She’d only calculated it a hundred times. She considered texting Chase and asking if he used a condom, just for an extra layer of certainty, but that was a can of worms she didn’t want to open. No. There was no way it could be Chase’s.

  So, here she was, about to have Scott’s baby. And she hadn’t even called him yet. She’d tried to not think about it this past week, but the cramping in her abdomen was demanding her attention.

  Not that Tori had thought about doing this at all. She figured someday, she’d settle down and have kids, but that was so far off her radar. After she went blind, it was last thing she wanted to consider.

  “Ok, well, let’s take a look.”

  She nodded and swallowed the lump in her throat.

  “Anything unusual, any cramping? Bleeding?”

  “A little cramping…” Tori trailed off. “Is that bad?” Why do I care if it is?

  “We’ll see.”

  There was a spurt of liquid like ketchup coming out of the bottle as the cold, gooey mess landed on her belly. The wand glided across her stomach as a whooshing tunnel sound filled the room.

  The doctor rubbed on her belly for what felt like an eternity. Many strange hmmms were coming from her mouth. It was extremely aggravating not being able to look at the screen or see the doctor’s expression. The wand moved lower and pressed harder. Tori grunted as it became uncomfortable. Eventually, through the static, a faint thumping began.

  “Is that the heartbeat?” The hair prickled on her arms as a twinge of excitement shot through her body, shocking her. A warmness seeped into her chest as a smile crept across her lips. There was life flowing through her body.

  We made that. Scott and I made that. A smile slowly formed on her lips.

  “Yes…but…” the doctor grew eerily silent.

  “What’s wrong?” Tori snapped.

  “Victoria, I’m sorry, but the embryo is outside the uterus, in your fallopian tube. It’s not a viable pregnancy,” her voice softened.

  “But the heartbeat…” Tori choked.

  “It’s rare to hear a heartbeat, but not unheard of. You’re pretty far along, almost eight weeks. The embryo is growing strong, it’s just not in the right spot.”

  Of course, the baby was strong. Just like it’s daddy.

  The doctor exhaled heavily. “Listen, normally, I’d treat this with medication, but due to gestation, I suggest we remove the pregnancy right away. I don’t want to risk you rupturing.” She wiped the jelly off her stomach and pulled down the paper gown. “I’m so sorry.” She patted her hand. “The nurse will come in and get you scheduled for emergency surgery. I’ll let you get dressed. Do you have someone you can call?”

  Tori nodded slowly. Scott. You should call Scott and at least tell him. “My sister,” she said quickly.

  “Ok. I’ll be back shortly.” The door shut behind her, and Tori sat there, digesting it all.

  She placed her hand over her belly. I have part me and part Scott inside me, and it’s going to die. A tear trickled down Tori’s cheek, and her mind flooded with images of a little boy with his dark hair and her blue eyes, or a little girl with her blonde hair and her daddy’s grin.

  She may have not seen the child, but she would have known. Scott would have painted her a wonderful mental picture. She wrapped her arms around her churning stomach. She sucked in a breath and tried to hold it back, but she couldn’t contain the sobs from pouring out of her.

  They moved her from the clinic to a room. Lying in the hospital bed, waiting, with nothing but a sheet over her, Tori sent a text message off to Scott. She knew it was a long shot that he would reply, but she wanted to try anyway.

  Tori

  Hey sexy, just thinking about you. Hurry back. I’m in need of a good fuck…

  She was pleasantly surprised when he chimed back.

  Scott

  You can’t get enough, can you? LOL. I’m doing my best. Gonna be a long night. Hopefully I can stay awake, but soon…very soon, I’ll come give you a good pounding. I promise.

  She decided not to tell him about the pregnancy, for now. His job was dangerous and that was grief he didn’t need. She was ready to move on. She just wanted to know he was there. She was still trying to process why she was so upset. Scott showed no signs of wanting to settle down, but a baby probably would have done the trick.

  This is for the best after all. She’d never want him out of moral obligation.

  Or was it? The past several weeks, she’d been mulling over Scott and how much he meant to her. She spent so many years chasing her career and self-glory. With her accident, that was all gone in a split
second. Forced to confront her own demons, she was starting to realize she was lonely. Strings of one-night stands and meaningless relationships were no longer gratifying.

  Maybe I deserve more.

  Tori could feel herself lifting from the dense fog of anesthesia. Beeping machines, hushed voices, and shuffling footsteps surrounded her as she drifted in and out of sleep. Jane’s hand slipped into hers, squeezing it when the doctor came in. This was all eerily familiar.

  “How are you feeling, Victoria?” Dr. Lee asked. The wheels of the chair scraped across the tile floor, drawing near.

  “Not bad. Tired, groggy.” Tori yawned as Jane let go of her grasp on her.

  “Victoria, I wanted to chat about the surgery, if you’re up for it.”

  Tori nodded.

  “There was a lot more damage in the tube than we expected. It was near rupture when we got in there. We had to remove it.”

  They what?

  “So, what does that mean?” Jane jumped in before Tori could even mutter a word. “What are her chances of having a baby after all of this?”

  “Well,” Dr. Lee replied, “she still has one tube. Many women go on to carry full-term pregnancies fine under those circumstances.” The doctor’s voice waivered in hesitation. “However, after one tubal pregnancy, the chances increase to have another. There’s quite a bit of scarring from your auto accident in the remaining tube. That could be problematic. We’ll have to wait and see. I’m sorry I don’t have a better answer, Victoria.” She let out a heavy breath. “We’re moving you upstairs for the night for observation.”

  The doctor’s footsteps faded, and the metal rings of the curtain whisked close. The seat next to her squeaked as Jane sat. “Tori, there’s always in vetro fertilization as an option to reduce your risk…” Jane grabbed her hand.

  “I thought it was against Catholics’ beliefs,” Tori huffed.

  “Well, it’s not like we share the same beliefs anyway. You could always do hormone therapy—”

  “Shut up!” Tori screamed and shook her hand off. “Can you just shut the fuck up? All you do is talk until my brain hurts.” After everything this past year, this was the final straw. Jane meant well, but she was always pushing and prodding, and Tori was over it.

  Jane was silent, and a heaviness filled the room.

  “I’m sorry.” Tori rubbed her pounding temples. “I didn’t mean it. I just… I can’t think about that right now.” All she wanted to do was sleep and forget this ever happened. She’d stuff it down like everything else, and this would be merely a blip on her radar. “This is the best thing that could’ve happened. It’s a blessing in disguise. I’m not made for motherhood. It’s not me—never has been.”

  Not meant to be a mother, or a wife. She was a damaged, blind woman that no man would ever want. She wasn’t good enough for Scott before, and she never would be now. This was her penance for all her past sins, and it was a long time coming.

  “Tori, you can’t possibly feel that way…” Jane obviously wasn’t buying it.

  “Well, I do,” Tori lied as another part of her soul died.

  “Alex I’m heading to lunch. Can you please make sure to contact the studio and check on the status of those descriptive audio recordings?”

  “You got it, Miss Johnson,” he said.

  “When you’re finished, head in here. I need your eyes.”

  “Will do, Miss Johnson.”

  Miss Johnson, Tori snorted as she hung up the phone. She wished to God she could get rid of that name. She’d worn it as a badge of honor, a tribute to her father, and she’d done nothing but soil his name. Victoria Harris rolled around in her head like a high schooler scrolling their boyfriend’s name on a sheet of notebook paper.

  She buried her face in her hands. She was failing miserably at everything. Failing at work, failing at life, failing at getting Scott out of her head.

  A knock at her door snapped her head up.

  “You ready?” Alex asked. He’d been saving her ass the past few weeks. She’d been trying her best to focus, but her mind was all over the place

  “Absolutely.” She plastered on a fake grin. Deep breath, move on.

  They spent the rest of the afternoon researching artists that sparked Tori’s interest.

  “This one is particularly beautiful,” he described, leaning over her shoulder. “It’s a black and white photo of a gorgeous woman. Her lips are adorned in dark lipstick, and she is wearing a lace blindfold. Her lips are pursed and slightly open, a man’s fingers touch them gently. On top of the image is something written in braille.” They were researching work done by Gerardo Nigenda, a blind photographer from Mexico City. “It makes you want to reach out and touch her. It’s stunningly erotic, yet tasteful.”

  Tori’s cheeks heated.

  “Did I fluster you, Miss Johnson?” He laughed.

  Damn he caught that.

  She fanned herself a bit. “You described it…very well.” She swallowed hard. “For the love of God, stop calling me Miss Johnson. You make me feel ancient.” He was only about four years younger than her.

  “Ok, Victoria.” Alex seemed adorable in a boy-next-door type of way. His voice made him sound a bit younger than he was. “In all seriousness, though, he has this amazing way of capturing life as he sees it. He uses the braille to describe what he smelled, tasted, and touched when he snapped the image. It’s beautiful.”

  “Well, that settles it. We have to include his work.” She checked her watch. Six forty-five? Holy shit! She felt terrible keeping Alex so late. No wonder the office was so quiet. “We’ll pick it up Monday morning.” Tori locked her computer and stood from her desk.

  “Have a nice weekend, Miss….”

  Tori raised her eyebrows.

  “Victoria. Have a nice weekend, Victoria,” he corrected.

  “You, too, Alex.”

  Tori shut her office and walked the hall to the elevators. Footsteps followed her. She stopped to listen, and the hall was quiet. This time on a Friday night, the building was usually clear except for the security guards. “Alex?” she asked. Nothing. She continued swiping her cane toward the elevator.

  As she walked, she once again heard the rhythm of soft steps, almost closer now. She halted again, so did the footsteps. “Hello?” she called out. “Is someone there?” No answer. The hair on her arms prickled as she pressed the elevator button.

  Maybe it’s time to get off the meds. They’re making you crazy, Tori.

  She walked to the metro, staying close to the wall as she turned from the escalator. The screeching railcar came to a halt, and with a hiss, the doors slid open. She got on and prayed the disabled seat wasn’t occupied. Usually, people moved for her.

  “Is this seat open?” She learned it’s best to ask. She didn’t want to sit on someone, again.

  No response. Lovely. Thankfully, her bottom found the seat empty.

  She couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes on her. Of course, eyes were on her, she was a bit of a sideshow after all. She was being overly paranoid. Still, she gripped her purse tightly as the railcar rattled down the tracks.

  Jane constantly complained about her riding the subway, pointing out Tori had plenty of money for Uber, but Tori preferred to save time at rush hour. “You’re an easy target for a sexual predator,” Jane’s voice echoed in her head. “You’re beautiful and blind. Someone could stalk you, and you’d never know it.”

  Maybe Jane was right. She had to keep her focus on her travel. She never paid much attention to the fact she could be followed until today. No, Jane had just lived in the suburbs too long. They both survived growing up in the shittiest parts of the city.

  She got off at her stop and headed southeast, making her usual detour through the small park.

  What if someone is stalking you? What if you have some rapist after you that’s building up for the right moment? Tori’s mind imagined some pervert in her bathroom while she bathed, taking photos of her, and her not being any the wiser. She dism
issed that thought. It was too absurd. You’ve watched way too many thriller movies. This isn’t Jennifer 8.

  Behind the sound of her cane scraping back and forth, footsteps pattered again in perfect timing with hers on the gravel path. She stopped again and listened intently. A breeze hit her face, and the rustling of the leaves and branches flowed with it. The bustling traffic echoed in the distance, but nothing close by. She started walking again.

  Crack!

  A fallen branch snapped in two behind her. Her knees weakened, and she dizzied.

  Her instinct said run, but that would be a disaster. She picked up her walking to a pace faster than she should. Her cane finally hit the concrete at the edge of the park, but her heel caught in the crack and sent her flying toward the street. Her body barreled into another person, and she went tumbling downward.

  A strong arm pulled her up quickly. A horn blared in her ear, and the gust of a car swooshed past her head. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?” Gravely male voice, stern, protective. Scott? No, it couldn’t be.

  “I… I’m sorry…” she stammered. “I couldn’t… I didn’t see… I mean… I’m blind, I didn’t see you,” she couldn’t utter a logical thought.

  “I can see that,” he said politely as she stood and tried to collect herself. He placed her belongings into her hands. “That was a hell of a sprint. Not really the right shoes for the job, though.”

  Tori tilted her head down and fidgeted with her cane. “I thought I heard someone following me. I freaked out. I’m so sorry. Are you ok?”

  Her rescuer chuckled. He had a nice smile to his voice. “I’m fine. The question is, are you?” He gently placed her sunglasses back on her face. They’d also got knocked off in the fall.

  “Other than a bruised ego and a scraped knee, I think I’m ok.” She could feel blood trickling down her leg. She reached in her purse and groped around, finding a tissue, and tried to stop it best she could.

  “Here, let me look.” He took the tissue from her. “Someone was following you?” he asked as he blotted her knee.