by Mia Pride
I swallowed, my mouth going dry and my face growing flush. “You cheated on me with Rochelle, remember? You left me. I moved on.”
His eyes glared at my stomach and then narrowed. “Please, Mon. We both know you never wanted a baby. Suddenly Richy-Rich shows up, and you’re pregnant and moving into his place? A game as old as time.”
Was he ‘Pretty Woman’-ing me, too? I decided not to let his words affect me. He wanted to hurt me, and I had a bigger fight on my hands if he tried to get physical.
“You don’t know anything about it, Steve. I’m none of your business anymore. You tried to get to Chris, and it didn’t work. I’ve moved on. You should, too.” I tried to stay calm, but I felt like a cornered cat ready to unsheathe my claws... except I had none. Suddenly, I regretted clipping my nails last night.
“You are my business and always will be. I’m protecting you. Don’t you see? You will only get hurt in the end. A man like him will never settle for a woman like you. He’s trying to do the right thing, but that can’t last. Soon enough, he will stray... and what then?”
Steve came closer, but I held my ground, tired of cowering yet aware of the possible danger for my child. Putting a hand on my shoulder, Steve looked down at me with a frown. “You’re safer with me. I will take care of you and the baby. I am a trained officer. I can protect you.”
I didn’t bother to mention that I felt less safe with him than I would if a hungry pack of cannibals surrounded me. Silently, I did my best not to recoil at his touch, but when his other hand touched my stomach, I pushed him away with the ferocity of a mother bear protecting her cub.
Anger flashed in his eyes as he stumbled backward, taken off guard. Steve did not like any threat to his manhood, and I instantly knew the mistake I’d made. With his lips set in a firm line and his blue eyes narrowed on mine, Steve lunged, but I stepped away. There was no trace of the man I once loved left inside this empty shell. A handsome face hid a tainted soul.
“Steve. Please, don’t touch me,” I whispered, trying to stay calm for the sake of my baby. The closer my due date came, the more at risk I was of preterm labor. I knew the baby was likely well enough developed to survive, but he deserved as much time to grow as possible to prevent complications.
“Why not? You never hated my touch before,” he responded, reaching out before I could stop him. His hand gripped my arm, and pain shot through my shoulder as he yanked me closer. “Perhaps you just need a reminder of what it’s like to be with a real man, not some stiff, rich gentleman. A man willing to fight for what he wants instead of sending fancy lawyers to do the work.”
His lips descended toward mine, and I turned away just in time. “I can make you do this, Monica. I know you want it. You’ve always been a little slut, and look where it got you.” He looked at my belly and scowled. “That should be my baby!” Steve was spiraling, and my fight or flight instincts took hold of me, knowing I had to do whatever I needed to get away from him.
Jerking out of his grasp, I winced when his grip tightened in response. There was no sense talking logic to him or reminding him that he cheated on me. He left me. He was the one who had the sex addiction. I had to protect myself, but there was nothing near me I could grab or use as a weapon, and Steve was trained in self-defense and restraint. I knew if I didn’t do something, he wouldn’t stop until he proved that he was the stronger, superior sex and that I should cower in his presence. That would never happen.
I wasn’t completely helpless. Years of dating a cop proved beneficial, as he had taught me some self-defense moves. Likely, he believed I was too vapid to remember, but now was the time to prove that I did.
Lifting my leg, I stomped as hard as I could onto his sneakered foot, making him release his grip just as I brought my knee up to his crotch with all my might. Steve howled and hobbled backward, but just as I attempted to move around him toward the door, his arm shot out and grabbed my ankle. I crashed onto the carpeted floor with a gasp as the air left my lungs, landing on my stomach. I cried out in both pain and terror, gripping my stomach and rolling onto my back.
Getting onto his knees, Steve looked like a demon as his face reddened with rage, and he crawled toward me like a predator on the prowl, a wolf stalking a wounded animal. “You paid attention,” he said through gritted teeth. “But you lack the strength to disable me...”
Pain shot through my belly, and I cried out, my heart sinking. “Steve... please... my baby,” I cried, gripping my cramping abdomen.
“What a shame it would be if you lost his baby.”
The threat in his voice made my eyes grow wide and ice flooded my veins. He was not just insane—he was evil. He would wish death on an innocent life if it meant getting his way.
His weight bore down on me as waves of pain shot through my body. A squeezing, cramping feeling tore through me, and I cried out, seeing Steve hovering over me, restraining my arms.
Looking to my left, then my right, I saw nothing but a blurry view of my condo, nothing to use in defense, no way to escape him... except for desperation.
With a deafening roar that stung my throat and rattled my head, I channeled all my strength and kicked out, feeling another sting of pain as my shin collided with his.
Steve shouted and loosened his grip for a fraction of a second, and it was all I needed. I suddenly understood what the instinct to survive felt like, how superhuman power can flood your veins when your child was in danger. Jerking my wrist out of his grasp, I clenched my fist and swung with all my might, hearing a crunch when I connected with his nose. An inhuman wail filled the room as he fell back onto the floor, holding his nose. Blood gushed from between his fingers, and I scrambled to my feet, feeling something dripping down my leg, but with my yoga pants on, I wasn’t sure if it was my waters or blood. Another pain gripped me, and my stomach tightened, making me gasp with both pain and terror.
“You bitch!” he roared, staggering to his feet and moving his hand. Blood ran down his face, over his clothing, and onto the beige carpet at his feet.
I fought for air, reminding myself to breathe and think clearly. Though my heart pounded and my chest rose and fell faster than ever in my life, I looked around the house. Nothing. I had nothing to use. Running toward the door, my only option for escape, I yelped when I felt his slick, blood-covered hand grip my arm and pull me back.
Losing my balance, I crashed onto my knees in the tiled entryway, but my adrenaline pumped too hard to feel the pain. My open purse rested by my left knee and, without thinking, I grabbed it and reached inside, feeling around for anything that may serve as a weapon. Feeling something pointy, I suddenly remembered playing with Grace the night before. She must have put the unicorn in my purse to take a nap and left it there. Thank you, Grace! A glittery, pink unicorn was my only chance to escape a trained fighter, an irony I would have to process another time.
Gripping the toy firmly in my fist, I yanked it out of the purse and wheeled around, just as Steve knocked me onto my back again. A glimmer of amusement flashed in his eyes when he saw the unicorn in my hand. Pain seared my abdomen, and fear churned in my gut. Swinging the unicorn toward Steve’s face, I watched in slow motion as its horn connected with his left eye, shock replacing amusement just before he screamed and stumbled back once more.
Struggling onto my feet, I grabbed my purse and opened my front door, closing it and running down the steps as fast as I could, feeling more fluid running down my leg. Touching it, I sighed when a clear liquid coated my fingers. It wasn’t blood, thank goodness. Hands shaking, I pulled my phone out and dialed 911, staring at my front door in case he tried to get away. With a busted nose and injured eye, I wasn’t sure if he would be able to drive away, but he would run.
The dispatcher answered, and I rambled off everything at once even though I gasped for breath. Giving them my address and requesting police and an ambulance, I collapsed in the parking lot as another pain—a contraction I was sure—tore through me.
“Are you all right
?” My downstairs neighbor ran toward me, and I shook my head. “I heard screams... I called the police already,” she said.
“Thank... you. My attacker is still... in there,” I said through gritted teeth, gesturing to the door. “Ambulance on the way.” I gripped my stomach, and the older lady scooped her blonde hair aside and kneeled beside me.
“I’m a nurse. I won’t leave your side. Do you want a ride to the hospital?”
Shaking my head, I gripped my phone. “I need to make sure Steve doesn’t leave. Get someone to watch the door. I need to call my... boyfriend,” I gasped as another contraction hit me.
“I will be right back. I will get Arnold.” I nodded, agreeing with her plan. Everyone knew Arnold as the complex’s go-to man. He was built like a brick wall but had the heart of a teddy bear. Need a ladder? Arnold lent one. Need a leaky faucet fixed? Arnold fixed it. Need your ex-boyfriend restrained until the police arrived? Arnold stood guard. The neighbor ran toward Arnold’s house, and I knew he was home because his beat-up work truck was parked in his assigned spot.
Dialing Chris, I quietly promised to make Arnold and this nurse cookies the next time I stopped by. “Chris!... I’m in labor! Come now!”
“Shit!” I heard him shout along with rustling sounds in the background. “I’m on my way. Are you okay?”
“I... I don’t know! Steve! He showed up... knocked me down...” I cried out as pain lashed at me, my stomach hardening like a rock. “Ambulance on its way!” I shouted. “Please get here before they do!”
“I’m out the door, baby. Stay with me. Are you safe?”
“I’m in the parking lot...” Looking up, I saw Arnold step out of his condo and storm up the stairs to mine, wasting no time as he barged inside. I knew then that Steve had no chance of escaping unless he jumped out of a window... and he was too big of a wimp to risk harming himself. Likely, he would wait around, hoping that one of his friends at the station let him go. “Neighbors are helping. I don’t think Steve can leave my place. Baby... I’m scared. Our son...”
“Our son will be fine,” Chris insisted. “I need you to get yourself onto the sidewalk, Mon. Can you do that?”
I nodded, knowing he couldn’t see me. Getting to my feet, I hobbled to the curb and plopped down with a grunt. “I’m on the sidewalk now. I just needed to get away...”
“I will be there in five minutes, Monica. Just keep breathing. I love you... I love you so much.”
I knew he had to be driving at least 90 miles per hour if he arrived that fast. I also knew he would kill Steve if he got near him. Luckily, his concern for me would keep him occupied.
“I love you, too. Please just drive safely. You’re no good to us dead.”
“I’m no good to you if I’m not by your side in the next four minutes. Is Steve taken care of?”
“Police are on the way. Arnold is guarding him for now.”
“Arnold?”
“Very large neighbor,” I whispered.
“I will destroy him.”
“I already did,” I said with a smile, despite my pain.
“I’m around the corner.”
Just then, the sirens of a police car caught my attention, and I held my breath, praying it wasn’t Steve’s best friend who responded to the call. Thankfully, when the car pulled up, the same female officer that responded last time stepped out and looked at me with a frown.
“Steve again?”
I nodded, gripping my belly as the contractions came faster, leaving me in a ball of pain on the sidewalk as neighbors poured out of their homes to witness the chaos.
More sirens sounded as the ambulance pulled in with Chris right behind them.
“Thank God,” I whispered before looking at the officer. “Steve is still inside the house. One of my neighbors is guarding the door. He has a broken nose and a potential eye injury.”
“Is the ambulance for you... or him?” the officer chuckled while she took my report.
“My boyfriend just pulled up. He can take me to the hospital if Steve needs the ambulance.”
“You’re nicer than you should be. Do you think you will make it to the hospital?”
Pulling up beside me like a bat out of hell, Chris threw the car in park and was by my side in a second.
“With him behind the wheel, I will get there faster than the ambulance,” I said, breathing through the pain as Chris gently helped me to my feet.
Raising her brow, the officer eyed us. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that. Get to the hospital, and we will take care of Steve. Here’s my card. If you think of any other details, give me a call. Are you pressing charges this time?”
“Yes,” Chris growled. “He’s lucky I don’t kill him right now.”
“I will pretend I didn’t hear that either,” she grunted before signaling us to leave.
Opening the car door, Chris helped me climb in before coming around, starting the engine, and peeling out of the parking lot.
Chapter Nineteen
Chris
“BREATHE, BABY, BREATHE,” I whispered, wiping the sweaty tendrils of hair away from Monica’s face. She clenched her teeth and bore down, squeezing my hand like a vise.
“You got his, Mon!” Crystal said from the other side of the bed. According to the doctor, Monica was too far along in labor to receive an epidural. Helplessness flooded me as I wished I could take her pain away, and fear gripped me as I prayed it wasn’t too soon for our son to come into this world.
Only an hour had passed since we arrived at the hospital, and already she was fully dilated and pushing with every contraction.
Monica screamed and gripped my hand as both sweat and tears ran down her face. “This... suuuuuucks!” she cried.
“You’re almost there...” the midwife said as she stood between Monica’s legs. “You’re crowning. One more strong push on the next contraction should do it!”
I looked at Monica just as her eyes locked on me, pleading for reassurance. “You can do this, baby,” I mouthed. “I love you.”
Nodding, she screamed and bore down, roaring as she pushed until her body quivered. Her sweat-slicked hand gripped mine, and I felt my bones threaten to crack. I allowed her to keep using my strength—it was the least I could do for this beautiful, strong woman giving me a son. Watching this woman birth my child was a humbling experience, one that made me know, without doubt, that I will never be the stronger of the two of us. I was in awe of her.
“Come on, Mon,” Crystal urged.
“He’s coming!” the midwife exclaimed.
Shifting, I watched as my son came into this world, a full head of dark hair and quaking, wrinkled limbs flailing as he screamed his disapproval. Monica cried out and went limp, exhaustion lacing every inch of her flushed face.
Our son. He was small... almost too small, but his roar was mighty and somehow reassuring that he would be all right.
“It’s a boy!” the midwife said. “Call the doctor in,” she signaled to a nurse by the door.
“Is everything all right?” Monica huffed, putting her arms out for our son.
“He seems perfectly well,” the midwife assured. “It’s just protocol to have a doctor come in to check you and the baby. Daddy, would you like to cut the cord?”
Nodding, I took the scissors from her and hesitantly cut the cord that had fed our son for eight months, a surreal feeling washing over me as I watched Monica hold our baby against her bosom. Swallowing my emotions, I felt a tear run down my cheek. Nothing in my life had ever felt so momentous. We were parents.
A tall, balding man with a huge smile walked into the room wearing blue scrubs and a white lab coat. “Congratulations! I heard your son screaming down the hall. That’s a great sign,” he chuckled. “I’m Doctor Johansen, and I apologize I wasn’t here to introduce myself before. You came in ready to go, and I was with another patient. I knew you were in good hands with Lauren here,” he signaled to the midwife. “Doctor Herrera won’t be in until later, but I am certain she wi
ll be pleased. How are you feeling, Mom?” He walked over to Monica and smiled.
“I just want to make sure my son is all right. He is four weeks early.”
“I saw in your chart that you had a high-risk pregnancy. Let’s take a look at him.”
Monica handed the baby to the doctor, who carried him over to the other side of the room where he could lay him down and check him over. “Does he have a name yet?”
Looking at Monica, I shrugged, knowing we never really discussed it. Perhaps we both thought it was a bad omen to name the baby before he was here, but now I was at a loss. “What do you think?”
Monica crinkled her brow and thought a moment. “How about Thomas? It’s Brent’s middle name and my dad’s name.”
Nodding, I smiled. “I love it. We aren’t naming him Christopher Edward Wilson Farrington V, that’s for sure.”
She laughed and smiled. “We can if you want to keep that tradition.”
“I don’t. Time to break the pattern.” My words meant so much more than they said, but Monica’s smile told me she understood.
“How about Thomas Edward Farrington?”
“Oh, I love that!” Crystal said from beside Monica, and I nodded in agreement.
“That’s perfect... and so are you.” Leaning in, I kissed her gently and felt my heart explode with love for this woman and the family we created. Thomas Edward Farrington. I had a son.
“Well, Thomas here is just fine. More than fine. Perfect Apgar score of ten and weighing in at six pounds exactly and nineteen and a half inches. He’s a tiny guy but healthy. Let’s see how he nurses.”
Bringing Thomas over, Doctor Johansen handed Monica the baby and instructed her to put him at the breast. Immediately, he latched on, and Monica’s eyes lit up from within as she looked up at me with a huge grin.
“And Mom is doing great,” Samantha added when she finished checking on Monica. “She will heal nicely. That’s the beauty of small babies—no tearing.” She winked and walked over to the trash bin to dispose of her gloves before washing her hands.
