by Leah Spiegel
“What?” we both exclaimed in unison.
“You are eight weeks along in your pregnancy,” she looked down at me. “And the baby is doing just fine. It’s got a strong heartbeat and everything looks good on the sonogram.”
Goose bumps ran down my arms as I looked down at my belly. I was carrying a life inside me? But fear quickly replaced my initial reaction as my eyes snapped over to Hawkins. What if this wasn’t what he wanted?
“It’s…okay? Are you sure?” he stammered. “She ran after a bomb and it exploded,” he seemed to slowly come undone and in that moment, I understood how much I must have really scared him. Tears welled up in my eyes, as he continued to ask, “So are you sure…our…our baby is fine?”
“Yes,” she assured him as she beamed down at us, obviously thrilled with how we were taking the news.
“My mom,” I murmured as it slowly dawned on me that the doctor had spared me that experience, at least for now. “Thank you,” I added.
“Like I said, my daughter gives me updates,” she smiled one last time before she turned to leave us alone.
Hawkins leaned forward in his seat to take my hand in his as he moved in with his other hand and placed it lovingly on my stomach. “Hey there buddy,” he cooed. “How did mommy not know you were in there?”
I went to explain that I had never been regular with my periods, but he shook his head when I realized he wasn’t upset that I didn’t know, he just wanted to talk to the baby.
“Well we know now,” his eyes snapped up to mine filled with admiration and love. “Don’t we, mommy?”
“Yes, we do.”
I felt a little silly talking to my belly, but the more and more I heard Hawkins talk to the baby, I knew without a doubt that he would be a better father than even I could have hoped for. Unfortunately, our little happy bubble was short lived when we got an unexpected visitor.
“Ah yeah, Mason, I’ll have to call you back,” Vance slapped his cell phone shut instantly announcing his arrival.
The mention of the name Mason brought back memories of the night I was kidnapped and terrorized. I couldn’t believe Vance actually waltz in my hospital room talking to one of the men who had helped abduct me.
Hawkins instantly stood up, and I could tell he was feeling protective of me, the mother of his child, as he stepped forward ready to pummel the man.
“Hawkins, it’s okay, I got this,” I stopped him with the severity of my tone. “Why don’t you go find my mom for me?”
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Joie,” Hawkins was so angry I noticed his knuckles were white from clenching his fists so tight.
“I can instantly call for help if I need to,” I held up the remote on my bed to show him.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“I’ll only be down the hallway,” he was speaking to me but he continued to glare at Vance as if begging the man to give him a reason to hit him. “If you need me, just call,” Hawkins knocked his shoulder into the man before leaving the room.
“O—kay?” Vance’s eyebrows knitted together like he didn’t understand what Hawkins deal was about. “Well, how’s your recovery going?”
“Let’s cut the BS and tell me why you’re really here.”
Maybe it was my, baby or just my hormones, but I couldn’t have been anymore pissed than I already was with Vance, now that I knew he was working with the men that kidnapped and terrorized me.
He just stared at me, but if he thought I was going to jump first, he had another thing coming. He must have come to the same conclusion because he shifted his weight, huffed and crossed his arms before speaking.
“I know you have the microchip,” he was bluffing, I figured because there wasn’t any reason for him to think that, other than hope.
“I know you work with the men that kidnapped and tortured me.”
“I don’t work with them,” he said flatly.
“And I don’t have the microchip,” I countered in the same tone.
“Do you even know what’s on that chip?
“Yes … I do.”
“Then you know that it holds information that could be a threat to our country.”
“Yes.”
“Are you going to give it to me then?” He asked as though I should have handed it over a long time ago, which I would have if he weren’t working with the same people that could have raped and killed me.
“Not yet.” I waited to see if he would take the bait.
“You know, I could arrest you. Actually, if you don’t give me that microchip, that’s exactly what I am going to do.”
“I never said I had the microchip, and if you arrest me, Hawkins and I will tell every magazine, newspaper, and TV reporter what your men did to me.”
“No one will believe you.”
“Oh really? Why don’t you try telling that to the two witnesses; Maria Rey at the grocery store and the cashier at the gas station. One of them saw me get shoved into the trunk of my car and the other saw me half naked after I escaped. Besides, it’s already been in all of the magazines. Everyone knows that I was kidnapped. It’s one of the very few advantages to having the paparazzi follow me around twenty-four seven.”
“Alright, alright, what do you want?” He asked in a manner that I could tell he realized how bad this could be for his team and with it being an election year he had to be extra careful.
“The first thing I want is for the men that kidnapped and tortured me to be fired or dishonorably discharged.”
“Those men were just doing their jobs.” He seemed shocked that I would request this first, but I knew he knew the extent of what I had been through and what I could possibly be sharing with the press if he didn’t give me what I wanted.
“You teach your men to lick their captures’ faces? And who knows what he would have done to me if I hadn’t got away; I know what he wanted to do.” The color quickly drained from Vance’s face like this wasn’t the first incident he had been made aware of.
“Fine, is that it?” he barked.
“Not even close, so you better get out your handy little notepad,” I calmly stated, then didn’t blink as he tried to stare me down again. With a roll of his eyes, he pulled a small notepad out of his suit’s inside pocket and nodded for me to go ahead.
“I want my mom’s mortgage paid off.”
“How much is that?” he asked, clearly shocked by my demands.
“I don’t know, and it doesn’t matter.”
“Fine, anything else?”
“I want Gwyneth’s record expunged, except for what she did in the end.”
“You know she’s the one that told us you had the locket and the reason you were kidnapped in the first place.”
“Yeah—after your men had scared her half to death. I can’t believe she gave up my name after being repeatedly punched in the face,” I was growing angrier by the second, but Vance held up a hand to calm me as he looked back at the semi-closed door.
“Next?”
“That’s it.”
“Good, where’s the chip?”
“You will get it after I get those things on the list.”
“I can’t wait until then, I need that chip.”
“Then I guess you better get busy on that list.” I prepared myself for another stare down, but he must have realized his time was better served getting me what I wanted.
“You better have that microchip, and it better not be damaged from the bomb, or we’ll take everything back,” he made a point of saying before he high tailed it out of the hospital room.
Shortly after, Hawkins and my mom entered the room discussing the art on the hospital’s walls of all things. When he took a moment to see if I was okay, I understood that he was keeping her distracted on purpose.
“You know how Van Gogh really lost that ear, right? he asked my mom.
“Wasn’t he mentally ill?”
“No, he lost it in a fight over a girl with Paul Gauguin.�
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“Really?”
“Yeah, so he’s just as mental as I am,” Hawkins laughed darkly as if implying he’d liked to have done the same thing to Vance.
A nurse followed in after them with my release papers, and then reiterated everything my doctor had said about the antibiotic ointment for my back. She finally unhooked the IV from the back of my hand and told me that I could get dressed again.
“I’ll go pull the car around,” my mom offered.
“Be careful,” Hawkins called after her. “The paparazzi are out there.”
Groaning, I asked why they couldn’t they give us a moment of peace? Then I got up and pulled out the bag of clothes that Hawkins had packed for me, but I slowly started to freak out when I realized he had only packed my usual white tank top and pink rolled up sweatpants.
“Oh no, no, no…”
“Joie,” he reached a hand down to gently lift my chin until our eyes were leveled with each other. “I don’t know what made you think you had to change your look, but I hope it wasn’t for me, because I’ve never seen you look more beautiful than when you’re in these clothes.”
“But Gwyneth?”
“I’m not with Gwyneth.”
Pressing my lips together, I tried my hardest to hold back the lopsided grin that desperately wanted to form on my face.
“I’ll just let you get dressed then,” he cracked a smile.
“Okay,” I nodded as I watched the back of him leave.
Grabbing up my sweats, I hugged them and thought, God—I’ve missed you.
I didn’t think I fully understood how much Hawkins had missed seeing me in my white tank and pink sweats, because minutes later when the paparazzi had swarmed around us outside, he pulled me in for a long, passionate, overdue kiss.
Chapter Eighteen
The band cancelled the next couple tour dates. Warren went back to Canada to be with his family while they got the funeral ready. Hawkins and I would be flying up in a few days, but needed to spend some time with just each other. Lizzie went with Warren and was being really supportive, as though she didn’t spend all of her previous energy bringing Gwyneth down. If Warren knew, he hadn’t let on, since he would not let her leave his side. The rest of the band and crew members were flying home to hug their loved ones before going to Vancouver to show their respect. Besides Hawkins and me, the only other two people that stayed with the tour buses were Harlow and Riley. Harlow had made some story about needing to work on some lighting problems and although Riley wished he would have just told everyone the truth, he was thankful when Harlow asked Riley if he would be willing to stay and help.
The FBI made sure that Gwyneth’s death was on every national news station so that the terrorists would think that Gwyneth died with the microchip still on her. The terrorists took responsibility for the bombing, but didn’t seem too upset that only she died in the explosion. Nevertheless, I knew whenever anyone spoke of Gweniverie Warren, they would only speak of the hero that she was and how she saved many thousands of American lives by taking her own.
“Joie, your mom’s been trying to reach you on your cell,” Hawkins explained bringing my focus back to him on his tour bus.
“Oh, thanks,” I took the phone from him and began to dial her number because I knew it took a lot of effort for her to just text something on her ancient cell phone. That didn’t stop her from trying though since we had kept in touch like how I had promised we would.
“Hello?”
“Hey mom, you wanted to talk to me?”
“I don’t know how to thank him,” her voice was shaking with emotion.
“Who mom?”
“Hawkins, I don’t know how to thank him for what he did. You know this whole time, I thought you were making a mistake but after meeting him in person and knowing what he did to help me, I couldn’t have picked a person more perfect for you, than him.”
“I appreciate that mom, I really do,” I said genuinely. “But what did he do?”
“Oh he didn’t tell you yet,” she breathed. “I hope I didn’t ruin the surprise.”
“I’m sure it’s fine,” I turned to look in Hawkins’ direction as he leaned against his bedroom doorway exposing his defined bicep muscles, and looking hotter than hell with a raised eyebrow over those smoldering blue eyes.
“Well, I got a call from the bank today. Apparently an anonymous source paid off the mortgage on our house.”
For a second I just blinked, because I knew who had really paid it off, but I realized how it must have appeared to my mom because only someone with a lot of money could have done it.
“He did what?!” I suddenly beamed in fake reverie because this couldn’t have turned out better for me.
“I know!” my mom gushed. “I don’t know how to thank him.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll tell him,” I locked eyes with him.
“Please make sure he doesn’t go crazy, I’m not needy.”
“He knows that, mom,” I continued to play it up even if Hawkins continued to look completely confused.
“Love you, honey.”
“Love you too, mom, bye.” My eyes never wavered from Hawkins as I clicked off the phone and tossed it on the kitchen booth. A slow smile formed on his face as I curled my pointer finger. “Come here.”
“What did I do?” he pushed off the wall and walked into my arms. I closed my eyes as I took in the soft scent of his cologne and murmured, “Everything.”
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
We would like to thank our family for all their support and guidance.
Our mom, Becky Spence, for instilling the love of reading and the encouragement to believe in ourselves.
Our dad, Alvan Spiegel, for the stories of your childhood, war, and life lessons.
Our sister Erin, who is the third pea in our pod.
Our nephew, Charlie McCarthy, whose witty sense of humor plays a part in all of our stories.
Our dog Skippy Jon Jones, for being much more than just a dog to us.
Geoff Wolak, our editor, thank you for making our books the best they can be.
We want to thank all of our friends especially Bethany Phelps, Leslie Carpenter, Kim Cotter, Anna Cotter, Stacy Costner, Margaret Marriott, Sherree Glover, and all the new friends we have met on Good Reads ; thank you for reading our stories and encouraging us along the way.
Meet the Authors
L e a h S p i e g e l, a graduate of Edinboro University, spent her first twenty years drawing imaginary worlds and now she writes about them. She is a native of Washington, Pennsylvania but has lived in North Carolina for the last five years. Check out her upcoming books on her website: www.leahspiegel.com. You can also find her on Twitter and Facebook.
M e g a n S u m m e r s received her teaching degree from Edinboro University and her Masters in Curriculum and Instruction with an emphasis in
Technology from Grand Canyon University. She is a native of Washington, Pennsylvania but has been teaching in Morganton, North Carolina for the past twelve years.
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