“Does your mother know about the pump?” She waved at it.
“I’m certain she does now, since she’s probably listening to our conversation.”
The doctor nodded. “I’m assuming you have a regular doctor?”
“Yes. Back in Tennessee. Where they took me from.”
“Right.” Her eyes were bugging out again as she slowly backed away. She knew just how deep of shit she’d be in if she stuck around. “I’m going to, um, go chat with your mother.”
She hurried out the kitchen swinging door, then hollered, “Oh!” as if surprised by my mother standing in the next room.
I scooted closer to the doorway, hearing Dr. Francis murmur to my mother. “You need to get her back to her doctor, or find a different one here. But she is much too far along for what you wanted to accomplish.” At that, my heart sank even further. I didn’t want to believe. I still couldn’t. How could they? How could they be so awful? “You gave me the impression she was wanting what you suggested.”
“You’re completely useless, and obviously have no idea who you’re dealing with,” my mother told her in a lifeless tone. I was shaking, tears running down my cheeks. I wanted to curl up in a ball on the floor and stay there until someone saved me from this hell. But I was alone. Just as I had been before. And I’d gotten out then. I could do it again. Somehow. “Henrietta will show you out.”
The contraction hit me so hard, I doubled over, yelling out. It hurt far worse than any of the others, starting in my abdomen and wrapping around my lower back. Breathing through it was almost impossible.
My mother, Dr. Francis, and Henrietta all scuttled into the kitchen. My mother came over to me, her hands fluttering about. I glared daggers at her, baring my teeth.
“What’s wrong with her?” she asked the doctor with a hint of concern.
“She’s having a contraction,” Francis told her, her tone firm for now. She came over to me, pushing my mom out of the way. “You said you’re only twenty-six weeks?” she asked. I nodded, but the contraction wouldn’t let up. I wanted to cry some more. “How many others have you had today?”
I shrugged, unsure of the number. The contraction subsided, and I sighed a heavy breath, sagging against the countertop. “That was the first one in a few hours,” I said, breathing ragged.
“You need rest and lots of water. You’re probably dehydrated. Those twins can’t be ready just yet.” She was being a doctor now, not a woman scared of my intimidating mother, and I was so grateful for that.
The hard look she gave my mother with her hand resting on my shoulder was pretty threatening in itself. The sense of an ally in my midst brought relief, but she wasn’t going to stay. “If these continue, she needs the hospital. And you should get her back to her regular doctor so she can get her medication.” With that, she squeezed my arm, heading for the swinging doors. Henrietta followed after her but stopped when Dr. Francis gave her a hard look. “I can see myself out.”
And so she did while I stood there with my mother scrutinizing me. Before she could say anything, I straightened. “I’m going to go lie down.”
But she gripped my arm when I walked in front of her, nails biting into the soft flesh, making me gasp. “You will marry Jared as we planned three years ago. We’ve already spoken with his parents. That plan doesn’t include any babies.” She glared down her nose at me, and I glared right back.
“You know I won’t go through with it,” I snarled through gritted teeth, ripping my arm from her grasp. “You couldn’t force me to three years ago, and you don’t have a chance of it now. Especially if you’re thinking of trying to take my babies from me.”
I slammed through the swinging doors in a hurry toward the stairs, heading up and up until I got to my room where I collapsed on my bed next to my dead phone. There was no comfort there, not in the bed that smelled of lavender. No jasmine or orange to remind me of Del, of my real home. There was nothing of me in this house, only trophies and ribbons lining the walls to remind me of a time I hadn’t owned myself. A time when I had absolutely no gumption, no pride.
In that moment, there was no hope of me finding that gumption I’d found three years ago. Not when everyone in this place was against me. Not when the only people I could rely on weren’t there.
The next time I woke, it was with my face in a pillow and uncontrollable nausea. I surged from the bed, running to the bathroom. When my stomach was empty, I checked my pump to find it out of medicine. Panic settled deep in my bones, in my gut. Once this started, there was no stopping it without the medication. Dr. Clarke had told me dehydration would be soon to follow if I couldn’t get the vomiting under control.
So long as I didn’t smell anything off, if no one touched me, if I didn’t try to ingest anything, I should be okay. What a freaking joke. I took the pump off and took a burning hot shower, scalding my skin to stave off the nausea. They’d done this to me, had taken me from my home. And I’d let them. I could have fought him. I should have called the police instead of being a coward about my parents finding me. It had done no good anyway, because here I was, under their roof, in their controlling grasp.
When I got out, I dressed in a maroon maxi skirt I found in the wardrobe and a flowing beige tank top—at least there was some comfortable clothing in there. After braiding my hair again, I noticed the dampened light of dawn out my bedroom windows. I was shocked that I’d slept through the entire night, and more so that they’d allowed me to. At least no more contractions had come.
But the fact that it was morning, that the whole day had passed without Kai coming to save the day, made my heart sink. Maybe he’d given up on me completely and gone back to Ohio. He was back on duty in three days anyway. If he just forgot about me, even acknowledging the twins, he could be a dad from a distance and not have to worry about a thing. And I would be stuck here in Louisiana with my parents trying to force a marriage to a horrible man on me that had almost stuck three years before.
A light tap sounded at the door before it opened. As if the knock made it okay for them to come right in. It was Henrietta, who gasped, “Oh!” when she saw me standing by the bed. Then she sighed, her shoulders slumping. “Your mama wants you downstairs for breakfast. I was to help you get ready.”
“As I told you yesterday, I’m fully capable of getting myself ready,” I deadpanned, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Three years ago, that wasn’t the case,” she muttered under her breath, then pursed her lips.
“Three years ago, I didn’t have a backbone,” I drawled, earning a smirk from her.
My mama might want me down for breakfast, but that didn’t mean she was going to enjoy my presence, especially after I spent the start of the morning throwing up. It was her fault. Hers, my father’s, and Jared’s that I was deathly nauseous now.
I found both my parents at the long formal dining table that was covered in dishes with pastries, eggs, bacon, and sausage. Far more food than the three of us could ever eat. They glanced up at me right as the scent of the food hit me, making me gag. Luckily there was nothing left in my stomach to throw up.