by Nia Arthurs
Fear winds its way up my throat. I should have let Wilson install an alarm system like he wanted. But I didn’t. Now here I am. A sitting duck.
I wheel around and make a run for my bedroom. My cell phone is on the nightstand. I have to get to it. Have to call Thomas and the police.
My brother will save me.
It’s a good plan. Except I don’t get that far.
My desperate rush is cut short when I bump into someone standing in the hallway. A scream wells in my chest and bursts out of my mouth but the sound is muffled when the man snatches me by the jaw, hand over my lips.
The scent of him wafts over me. My eyes burst wide.
Keanu.
My nose flares, shooting quick, tortured breaths above his palm. My heart is threatening to explode.
“Zo,” Keanu says low in my ear, “where do you think you’re going?”
I struggle, squirming to get away.
He slaps his other arm around my waist until I’m flush against his body. Tightens his hold like a boa constrictor slowly crushing its prey. Sensing that he’ll kill me if I don’t quit fighting, I drop my arms and go still.
His grip relaxes. “That’s my girl.”
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Saving you.”
“Saving me?” I scoff. “You just broke into my home, Keanu.”
“I used to have a key.”
“But you don’t anymore. Leave right now.”
“And if I say no?”
My mind scrambles for a way out. “If you go, I won’t tell anybody about this.”
He chuckles, his chest rumbling against my back. “You think I’ll fall for that? I know your white boyfriend has been sticking by your side the past few weeks. You’ll call him as soon as I’m gone.”
His fingers tighten on my throat like he wants to rip out my vocal chords. I whimper. “Keanu, you’re hurting me.”
“Zo,” he removes his hand from my throat and runs it down my side, past my waist to my hip, “we were so good together. We still are.”
Nausea balls in the middle of my stomach. Disgust trembles my bones and thickens with every patch of skin he traces. I’m afraid, afraid for my baby’s life. Afraid for my own.
Is Keanu going to force himself on me?
His exploration stops abruptly when his fingers brush my stomach. He thrusts me away from him with a click of his teeth, as if repulsed. My head slams into the wall. Stars burst to life.
I groan.
“Why’d you have to go and get pregnant?” He whines. “Why, Zo?”
He’s out of his mind.
I sink to the floor and crawl toward my bedroom. If I just get to my phone…
Keanu grabs me by my feet and yanks me back. My elbows burn from the friction of rubbing against the carpet. I scream. Like a crazy woman. Like my life depends on it.
And it does.
I kick him for all I’m worth, but he dodges each of my blows. Keanu grabs me by the hair. “Shut up!”
“Help! Someone help!”
“I said shut up!” He thrusts my forehead down. Carpet fibers fill my nose. I taste dust and blood on my tongue. I’m helpless. Totally and completely at Keanu’s mercy.
“Don’t make me hurt you, Zo.”
I can’t even defend myself with my face pressed into the ground. He roughly pulls me around so I’m flat on my back. In the dimness, I notice he’s holding a bundle of rope. Keanu straddles me so his weight holds me down and then he binds my hands.
“Get off!” I scream. My neck twists left and right. “My baby… you’ll hurt it. Get off!”
Keanu rises and kicks me right in the belly. A gasp of pain and horror bursts past my lips. I turn on my side, coughing from the blow that’s so sudden tears burst to my eyes.
“Don’t mention that damn baby,” he warns.
I cough and beg him. “Please, please…”
He ignores me and ties me up so securely that the rope burns into my wrists. He secures my mouth next, binding it with tape. My frightened moans are muffled by the texture of the tape.
Keanu jerks me up so roughly I’m afraid my arms will pop out of their sockets.
“Let’s go,” he barks. His fingers band around my arm. His dark face is set, determined. The man I once admired is gone. Or maybe this was his true form all along.
I can’t do this. Can’t let him take me Lord knows where to do who knows what.
We’re halfway to the back door when I move. I slam Keanu into the wall with my shoulder. He’s caught off-guard and his hand slips off me. I make a run for it, looking neither left nor right as I sprint toward the front door.
Suddenly, a weight tackles me from behind. My entire body slams to the ground. My head ricochets off the tiles and then everything goes black.
When I wake up, I realize I’m no longer in my house. I’m in an empty building, maybe a warehouse. It’s near the sea if the strong scent of salt and the howling wind banging outside is any indication.
Moving my head invites a wave of dizziness, so I try to keep still as I regain my bearings.
A few dim orange bulbs hang from the ceiling and illuminate the dusty floor. A pipe drips in the distance. Clopping slowly as if time moves at a different pace here than outside.
Plop. Plop. Plop.
I try to get up but realize I can’t. A glance down reveals my hands and legs are tied to a chair. Keanu must have brought me here after I blacked out. At least I’m still dressed. Which means he didn’t rape me.
There’s no time to savor my relief because footsteps approach at that moment. The light reveals Keanu in a pair of black pants and a black shirt. His face is twisted in a scowl.
“Why’d you have to fight, Zo?” He reaches out and tries to swipe something against my forehead. I jerk back. He lowers what I now see is a wet wipe. “See, you’re bleeding.”
“Let me go, Keanu.”
“I can’t do that. Not until I’m sure we can be together.”
His words stump me. What do I do here? Play along in the hopes that he frees me so I can escape? Or express the anger in my heart that I feel for him?
“Here.” Keanu thrusts a bottle of water at me before I can make up my mind. “Drink this.”
“I’m not drinking anything.”
“Zora, don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
I clamp my lips shut.
With a growl, Keanu springs toward me and pries my lips apart while forcing the water down. It tastes metallic, like I’m drinking clear blood.
Most of it trickles down the side of my mouth and drains my shirt but I swallow way more of his disgusting concoction than I want to.
“Good girl,” he says like I’m a dog who drank willingly instead of being forced. “I’ll come back soon with another bottle.”
“What is that?” I ask, sticking my tongue out to relieve myself of the aftertaste.
“Our happy ending.”
I glare at him as he paces and checks his watch. It’s clear he’s waiting for something, but I don’t know what. My stomach roils. Everywhere throbs. I need to use the bathroom again. Thanks to his stupid decision to force more water in me.
“Keanu, please. This isn’t the man I fell in love with. I know there’s still some good in you.”
“Me? You’re the one who changed. I didn’t think white guys were your type.”
“This isn’t about Wilson. This is about you and me.” I close my eyes as a wave of pain hits my stomach. “Could you… please…?”
“Zora?” Keanu darts to my side and grabs my shoulder.
I can’t answer him. A searing pain tears through my middle. It’s like my stomach is being ripped apart from the inside. I scream, my eyes bugging and my hair clinging to my sweat-stained face.
“What’s happening?” Keanu yells.
I buck against the chair, shouting until my throat goes hoarse. I want to die. It’s too much. The pain… it hurts too much.
“Zora?”
Liquid seeps into my pants. I glance down. Did I just wet myself? No, it’s different. Doesn’t smell like urine.
And then it hits me.
I glance frantically at Keanu. “My water just broke.”
“What?”
“The hospital!” I screech. “Take me to a hospital now.” This isn’t right. The baby’s way too young. It’s not supposed to be here yet.
“I can’t.”
“Keanu, do you love me?” I stare him straight in the eyes.
“With all my heart.”
“Then you won’t let me die…” My plea is cut off by another contraction. I wail in pain until it passes.
Keanu looks sick. He shakes his head. “Fine! I’ll take you!”
When he unties the binds and lifts me, I notice my shorts are completely doused. Water is trickling down the leg of the chair into the ground. It’s a stray observation since most of my being is tied up in the agony cramping my stomach.
Keanu drives me to the hospital. I get out on my own and stumble into the emergency room. A few of my associates notice me and grab a gurney.
“I think I’m going into labor,” I tell them.
Their faces are grave. We all know it’s too early.
The next half-hour is cloudy. As if it’s happening in a dream. All I remember is the pain. The throbbing in my middle and between my legs.
The doctor comes in and tells me to push. I do and then he shows me my baby, cupped in his palm. Little toes. Even littler fingernails. Mouth formed in a smile.
At the sight of him, my heart crumples into a tiny ball and shatters. I weep so loudly the walls rattle.
My baby… my baby is dead.
Chapter Twenty-One
Wilson
I sprint out of Customs with my overnight bag in one hand and my passport in the other. My coat flails behind me. My footsteps pound against the tiled floors. Tourists stop to watch the maniac in the jeans and jacket pass, but I don’t care.
The moment I step into the Belizean sunshine, I spot an open taxi and jump in. Between breaths, I direct him—“Take me to the Medical Center. As fast as possible.”
As the driver shoots down the highway, I stare through my window. Thomas’s words when he called earlier this morning waft into my brain.
“Zora lost the baby.”
The announcement shook me to my core. I left Milton to tie up loose ends at the company and caught the earliest flight to Belize.
I’ve tried calling Zora’s cell, but she won’t answer. Thomas warned that she’s not in the best state right now. I can imagine. It’s hard for me to take, and I wasn’t the one carrying the baby in my stomach for three months.
The news feels unreal.
There’s no way our kid is gone. We were preparing for the second prenatal visit with Doctor Clara, debating whether we should find out the sex. Zora promised we could name him ‘Noah’ if it was a boy.
Now Little Bean is… gone.
Emotions well in me. I let a tear fall in the privacy of the cab. This is the only time I’ll be able to fall apart. When I’m with Zora, I have to be her rock, her strength. I want to be there for her in any way I can.
I brush the tear away, choking back a sob. My heart is heavy.
It wasn’t the way I’d planned it. It wasn’t with the woman I’d planned to have a child with, but I was so excited to introduce a new life to the world. Someone who came from me. Shared a part of me.
Why? Why would God take an innocent baby away?
I sniff and pull myself together when the hospital looms in the distance. The driver slows to a stop, and I pay him generously for his sensitivity and for his speed in getting me there.
The first steps through the door are the hardest. A part of me wants to whirl right back around and head somewhere, anywhere, other than the hospital.
But I can’t leave Zora behind. I could never abandon her.
I force myself to move forward. Gretchen is in the lobby when I walk in. I don’t notice her at first, but she stops me with a hand on my arm. “Wilson?”
“Gretchen.” My voice is husky. I clear my throat. “Do you know where Zora is?”
“She’s in the Recovery Ward. Room 105.”
“Okay.” I stride forward.
Gretchen clasps my elbow and holds me back. “I’m really sorry, Wilson. Zora was… it was like she lost her mind.” Gretchen shudders. “She was screaming and yelling. We cried just listening to her. It must be so hard for you too.”
“Yeah.” I shake her off and stride toward Zora’s room.
My mind races. Zora was so careful not to advertise the pregnancy to her peers, going as far as to book a private obstetrician.
If she was so unabashed with her grief, I know losing Little Bean must have destroyed her.
My chest pains me. I should have been here. Should have listened to that little voice in my head that told me not to leave.
This is my fault.
The thought burdens me, and I can’t shake it off. Do I even deserve to be by Zora’s side now when I wasn’t there for her when it counted?
My hand reaches out to twist the doorknob. My fingers tremble. Before I can sum up the courage to open the door, it burst free on its own and Thomas appears.
He stops short when he sees me, brown eyes filled with surprise. “Wilson?”
“Hey, I’m here.”
He steps back. Glances over his shoulder. Licks his lips. “She’s sleeping.”
“Oh.”
“Come in.”
“No, I’ll come back when she’s awake.”
Thomas grabs my arm. “Stay. She’s exhausted but she’s only slept in snatches. It’ll do her good to see you.”
“Wait, where are you going?”
“The police station.”
“Police station?” My eyebrows hike. “What happened?”
“Not sure. They called saying they had some questions. I’m hoping it won’t take long. I was just about to call Amaya and Diandra to stay with her.” Thomas frowns. “Zora asked me not to tell them yet, but I need to visit the station and… anyway, thanks for coming so soon.”
“Of course. She’s important to me.”
Thomas lingers. “My sister is the only family I have left. It means a lot to hear you say that.”
I dip my head even though I feel like correcting him. I’m the last person he should be thanking. I left her alone.
Stupid. Stupid.
Thomas walks off and I stuff my self-loathing down for a more private moment. With a deep breath, I step inside Zora’s hospital room. She’s lying in the middle of the bed, her long eyelashes splayed.
Beneath the harsh overhead lights, her skin is a lighter shade of brown. An IV line is attached to her wrist. Instead of her usual white scrubs, she’s wearing a dotted hospital gown. Her dark hair is pressed against the white pillow.
I quietly draw a chair up to her bedside and watch her. Guilt swirls in my chest. She looks so frail, so tired. What caused the miscarriage? The last time, Dr. Clara said she was right on track.
As if summoned by my thoughts, the door opens and a doctor steps through. He’s a stooped old man with pale skin, thick grey hair and a pair of fragile glasses perched on the end of his nose. The tag on his white coat says ‘Dr. Fernandez’.
I shoot to my feet. “Doctor, how is she?”
“She’ll be fine with rest, but I think she’ll need to make a police report as soon as she’s well.”
“A report—why?”
He taps a folder in his palm. His lips are flat, his expression dead-pan as if he’s reciting a grocery list. “Zora’s blood scans turned up strains of misoprostol.”
“What’s that?”
“A pill used to induce medical abortion.”
“What?”
“I’m guessing by that reaction you didn’t know.”
“No.” I lick my lips. “Are you insinuating that Zora intentionally tried to get rid of the baby?”
“I’m not i
nsinuating anything, sir. I’m just stating the facts. According to the nurses, Zora stumbled in here at two in the morning with contusions and a concussion. She was the one who warned us about her contractions.”
“So what does that mean?”
“I’m not sure. We won’t know unless she tells us and she hasn’t exactly been forthcoming while asleep. I suggested calling the police earlier, but the other nurses insisted we wait for Zora to explain before doing so.”
“I’ll speak to her.”
“Alright.” He turns toward the door, lingers and then spins back. “Zora is a little blunt, but she’s a good nurse. A loving one. Even the most ornery patients melt around her. She was glowing lately. I can only assume it was because of you and the baby. I’m very sorry for your loss.”
I swallow past the lump in my throat and say, “Thank you, doctor.”
He leaves.
I continue to sit by Zora’s bedside as I struggle to piece together the mystery. It doesn’t make sense. Zora wouldn’t try to get rid of our baby by taking pills. Would she? What about the reports of a concussion and bruising?
What the hell happened last night?
A groan jars me out of my thoughts. I glance up and notice that Zora is beginning to stir. I lean over the bed, trying not to crowd her but too relieved to hang back.
“Wilson?”
“Hey, Zora.”
“What are you doing here?”
Her voice is husky. I notice a glass filled with ice chips and offer one to her. “Take this first.”
She sucks on the ice and stares at me. “I’m sorry.”
“What are you apologizing for?”
“You cut your business trip short because of me.”
“Baby,” I take her hand and stroke the back of it, “don’t apologize. I’m the one that should be doing that. If I hadn’t left—”
She shakes her head.
“Zo…” I hesitate, wondering if it’s too soon to ask, “can you tell me what happened?”
Her eyes falter shut. “Keanu.”
“Keanu?” I stumble back. “He did this?”
“He broke in. Took me to a warehouse. He gave me something to drink. After that, I got contractions.” Tears well in her eyes and she turns her face away from me. “The baby… Wilson, it—”