I don’t feel lighter or heavier for saying farewell to the vacant theater.
Suddenly, there’s a crash and then the sound of a door slamming shut coming from the foyer. The sound makes me jump and immediately, I move, rushing after Ezra. If we’re caught before we can escape I…I don’t know what will happen to us.
I push through the door to the foyer and see Ezra in a defensive position to my left. I look to my right and see Stella, standing with her back to the interior door that leads back to the grand entrance of the manor—the door where all the guests filtered through to avoid going out into the bitter cold.
Stella?
Her eyes are wide and worried. “Where’s Kostya?” she asks. “He’s coming. Murphy’s coming.”
At that exact moment, Kostya opens the exterior door from the outside and all of us startle. He looks at Stella and I see the immediate sense of urgency wash over his features.
“Go,” Stella says to Kostya. “I can stall him. But you have to hustle.” Then, she looks at me and Ezra. “Get the fuck going!”
It hits me hard in the chest when I realize that Stella’s helping us. She’s putting herself on the line for us to help us escape. I don’t know what Murphy will do or how he’ll react when he finds out, and he will find out. Even when we’re long gone, if she stalls him now, gives him the attention he wants from her, he’ll make the connection later that she did that to help us.
I want to tell her to think twice. I want to make her understand that she can’t put herself in that position. But more pain is sneaking in and I can’t. I can’t help her. I have to save my baby from this world.
“Come,” Kostya says, pushing the exterior door open and motioning for us to follow. “Hurry.”
We don’t hesitate, we move.
The cold spreads around us as we step out into the night, cloaking us in a bitter chill that I somehow find comforting.
Coldness has saved me before, kept me alive, if only in the metaphorical sense. Freezing my heart, shielding it in a thick layer of ice has always given me the power to get through my worst moments, and now is no different. I let the real coldness that swirls around me seep in through my pores and strengthen the icy fortress of my soul to get me through the moments to come.
We use the darkness to hide us as we sweep around the corner of the manor outside to the car Kostya has parked nearby. He opens the back door of the sedan, waving us forward. “Lay down. Cover with the blanket.”
Ezra steps forward. “I’ll get on the floor. You lay across the seat. It’s just until we get past the gate.”
“We have to hurry,” Kostya urges.
I nod at Ezra and climb in, practically falling across the bench seat, barely able to hold myself upright as that pain that was creeping in before punches low in my stomach. Ezra gets in after me, squeezing himself in on the floorboards. It’s a tight fit for him, but he manages.
I moan as the full force of this contraction swells and spreads. My fists clench as I curl up on my left side, facing the front of the car. My eyes pinch shut and nothing exists but pain, pain, pain. I push out heavy, long breaths as Ezra reaches up to grab one of my clenched fists and I’m only vaguely aware of his attempt to comfort me.
The agony peaks as Kostya shifts above us, laying a large, black blanket over our bodies to conceal us. Ezra tugs at it, making sure we’re sufficiently covered. If a guard wanted to look in the back seat, they would only need to turn a flashlight on us to know there are stowaways here.
But the only thing I can worry about is the pain.
I want to scream.
And I nearly do.
I gasp for breath as it ebbs and Kostya slams our door shut before he climbs into the driver’s seat and starts the engine.
“Hang on, baby,” Ezra whispers and I want to cry. I wish I could see his face in the dark beneath this blanket. I need to see him. “Hang on just a little longer.”
Tears slip from the corner of my eye and I clamp my mouth shut to hide the sob that hiccups from my chest. The car moves forward and I’m scared. I’m scared for our escape and that it will be foiled before we’ve even had a chance. But more urgently, I’m scared of this pain. I’m scared of how much it hurts and how much more I know it will hurt before the end. I’ve endured horrifying things as a slave, but this is a fear I never could’ve prepared my mind to endure. I’m in pain like I’ve never been in pain before and it’s all I can think about.
Time passes and it feels slow, though I know it’s only been half a minute or so. We must be approaching the gate about now, but the car isn’t slowing. Kostya is speeding up.
He speaks loud enough for us to hear him clearly. “No guard at the gate. It’s open.” He sounds as cautiously excited as that makes me feel. “It’s clear.”
It’s clear?
No guard?
Why isn’t there a guard at the gate?
My mind starts to question it, but my body shuts down my conscious thinking, forcing me to focus on the agony that’s taking over. I start shaking, trembling out of control, and I can’t stop it.
I feel the car turn. “We’re out,” Kostya says, and I hear the surprise in his tone. “We’re on the road.”
We’re on the road.
We made it out.
We made it out?
No security stop?
Gate open?
Once I’ve finally caught my breath from the last contraction, another clutches me in devastating misery.
“No, no, no,” I pant as it tightens and pulls and stretches across my belly, wrapping around my midsection and throbbing. It’s like being crushed in a vice.
I can’t speak through it.
I can’t think through it.
The car speeds forward down the road, but our escape plan is lost to me now.
I don’t exist.
My conscious thought disintegrates to the torture my body suffers.
Nothing exists now except for pain.
Chapter 23
Ezra
We’ve been on the road toward the helipad for over twenty minutes and Anya is in agony. Despite the fact that we never expected her to be pregnant for this, let alone in labor, there’s a feeling in my gut that I can’t ignore—a nagging feeling that everything is wrong.
Fucking wrong.
Anya is trembling out of control and having what seems like contraction after contraction. I feel helpless and I can only imagine how much she’s suffering. It makes me sick to my stomach.