His Amazing Baby_A Miracle Baby Romance

by B. B. Hamel

  And when he does, he’ll lead us right to the bastards.

  Sheer walks fast and keeps looking around wildly. He’s so obvious, but most normal people wouldn’t even notice him. He clearly is checking for tails, trying to spot someone following him, but he won’t spot me tonight. I’m not making any mistakes. This is way too important.

  I reach into my pocket and clutch the syringe. Amelia knows the plan, and it’s a simple one. When Sheer goes into the brothel, I’ll leave and get the van while Amelia sticks around and watches the entrance. After Sheer leaves the brothel, I sneak up on him, stick him in the neck with the syringe, and then together we hustle his body into the van.

  The rain is steady and soon Sheer is forced to put up an umbrella. That actually makes it easier to follow him because his umbrella is a light blue color, very distinct. I pull my head up tighter and keep my distance, watching as the umbrella bobs and weaves through traffic.

  We follow him like that for blocks. I’m surprised that he doesn’t take a bus or a cab, but he probably has his reasons. Maybe doesn’t want to risk getting recognized by a driver or something like that. Either way, he slowly makes his way out west, and the city begins to change.

  We started in a residential area, but by the time we’ve been walking for a half hour, the population is much less dense. Houses are spread out and there are more industrial buildings all around us. I’m forced to stay as far back as possible because I can’t just blend in with the crowd out here.

  Soon, he turns down an alleyway and closes his umbrella. I catch Amelia’s eye and nod at her. I creep forward and watch as Sheer disappears into a building.

  It’s an old office building with a “For Rent” sign in the front window. I’m guessing it’s not actually available, since the inside is being used for an illegal sex slave brothel. I make a note of the address then double back to meet with Amelia.

  She’s leaning against a stoop, watching me. “Well?” she asks.

  “He’s inside.” I point at the building. “In there. The entrance is in an alleyway down the side.”

  “Okay.” She looks resolved and absolutely beautiful.

  I step forward and gently take her chin, forcing her to look at me. “Are you good?”

  “I’m good.” She nods and stares back at me fiercely.

  “Okay. I’m getting the van. Stay out of sight.”

  I give her one last look before doubling back and walking quickly. The van is parked about eight blocks away, which is lucky. I guessed and parked right in the middle of the western part of the city, hoping that it would be close enough when the time came. As I finally make it to the van and climb inside, that gamble was clearly paying off.

  I pull out and drive the eight blocks back to Amelia. As I pull up and slow down, though, she’s nowhere to be seen.

  I drive twice around the block, but there’s nothing. Panic threatens to descend, but I keep it at bay. I’ve trained for this, for an impossible event. I have to keep my wits or else risk fucking everything up.

  I don’t know where she is. She could have gotten up and ran off, or something could have forced her to move. Of the two, I have to assume that the latter is more likely. I park the van at the corner in a loading zone and put the hazard lights on before heading out on foot.

  My heart is pounding as I stand in the middle of the street and look around. Nobody is out and the building that Sheer went into looks totally quiet. Someone could be watching me from a window and I’d never know, but I have to take this risk. I need to find Amelia and figure out what happened.

  Fear replaces my panic. What if she did something stupid and got caught? She could be in there, right now, being beaten and hurt. But no, no, that can’t happen, I won’t let that happen. I take a few steps toward the building and have to stop myself.

  I don’t know what’s in there. I can’t just go running off. I don’t even have a gun with me tonight. Fuck, I should have brought a gun.

  Suddenly, a motion catches my eye. It’s a light blue umbrella opening and closing. I walk fast toward it, and the person holding it disappears into a side alley. I turn left and head down the block then follow the umbrella.

  Standing at the end of the alley is Amelia. I nearly pass out from relief as I walk up to her and wrap my arms around her. “You scared the fuck out of me,” I say.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispers. “He left. Almost as soon as you walked away.”

  I cock my head at her. “What are you doing with his umbrella?”

  She gives me a guilty look then points at the ground. There, crumpled in a heap, is Mark Sheer.

  “Shit,” I say then crouch down beside him. He’s alive, though he’s bleeding from a blow to the head. “What happened?”

  “I followed him, but he must have seen me, because he ran down into this alley. I don’t think he realized that it was a dead end, but I followed him anyway. When he backed toward the wall, he started yelling at me, cursing.” She frowns and points at a brick lying a few feet away. “I had to hit him.”

  “You knocked him out,” I say softly.

  “I didn’t want to. But I had to. He was yelling.”

  My blood runs cold. I’m suddenly very aware of our situation.

  “Get the van,” I say.

  “What?”

  “Go. Now.” I shove the keys into her hand. “Get it, pull it up as close as you can. Go.”

  She nods and quickly leaves. I stand and scout out the area, looking for any witnesses. As far as I can tell, we’re very much alone, which is fortunate. The alley is small and thin with dumpsters in either side. Whatever happened was probably blocked from the street’s view, and it’s likely that nobody heard him yelling.

  But they might have. And they could have left already or called the cops.

  We have to take him. I can’t just kill him right here in case someone is watching. I pull my hood forward and bend down, pulling Sheer into a sitting position, my arms hooked under his armpits.

  As soon as I hear the van pull up, I drag him as fast as I can. My heart is hammering the whole time as we go down the alley. Amelia backs the van slightly into the space, and so all I need to do is throw open the back doors and shove Sheer into the back. Once he’s in, I stop and turn back into the alley. I run over to where the brick Amelia used is and grab it, tossing it into the van as well.

  “Drive,” I say to her.

  We pull out immediately.

  That was fucked. There were too many fucking things that could have gone wrong right there. Someone could have seen Amelia, or me, or both of us. Someone could have gotten all of that on video. Our faces are likely covered by the hoods but still, this is bad, very bad.

  We drive in silence for a while. Amelia heads south, heading out of the city. We’ll have to switch soon, since she doesn’t know the way to my property, but it’s more important that we get out of the city first.

  “I’m sorry,” she says finally.

  “It’s okay,” I say, sighing. “It’s not your fault. You weren’t ready.”

  “I thought I was. I just didn’t want to lose him.”

  “I should have sent you for the van. I should have taken more time to get you prepared. Hell, I should have done this alone.”

  She frowns and stares at the road. “I’m sorry.”

  “Stop. It’s my fault.” I climb up into the passenger seat. Sheer lists to the side then falls with a thump to the floor of the van as we hit a pothole.

  I reach out and take her hand. She doesn’t look at me, but she squeezes my fingers.

  That went about as fucked up and wrong as it possibly could have. But we have him. The pedophile fuck is going to die now, no matter what, and we know the location of the warehouse. I can’t be sure why he left so quickly, but I’m almost certain that’s the place. Fortunately, once we get back to my property, Mark and I can have a little chat.

  And I’m sure he’ll tell me everything I want to know.

  18

  Amelia


  I’m so angry with myself when we finally make it back to Noah’s place. He tries his best to downplay what happened but I can tell I really screwed up.

  I wasn’t thinking. I saw Sheer leave the warehouse and start walking down the street, and I panicked. I thought maybe I should just walk away and we could go after him another time, but then my feet were moving and I was following him. I couldn’t turn away even when I wanted to.

  And then he turned to look over his shoulder. He looked right at me and I swear our eyes met for half a second. That was when he took off, running down the alley.

  I ran after him. It was stupid and I should have just let him go, but I ran after him. I found him backed against the wall, terror clear on his face.

  “What do you want from me?” he screamed. “Why are you following me? Help! Help me!” He wouldn’t stop yelling, screaming, shouting.

  There was a brick on the ground. I didn’t think about that, either. I just picked it up and slammed it down against his head.

  It was easier than I thought it would be. I stood there with the brick in my hand for a minute, staring at Sheer’s unmoving body on the ground, blood on the brick and on his scalp. I dropped it onto the ground, grabbed his umbrella, and started to walk away.

  It terrified me how easy it was to hit him. It took almost no effort and he barely defended himself. It was just so easy to slam it down onto his skull.

  Hell, it felt good to smash him. That asshole. That pedophile bastard.

  But I screwed up. I should have waited for Noah to come back. I just lost myself in the moment and wasn’t thinking clearly.

  We park the van outside of the barn. He throws open the side door and grabs Sheer, dragging him out of the back. “Go open the trap door,” he says to me.

  I walk ahead and stomp on the floorboard he showed me a day ago. The door opens and Noah drags Sheer from the van, into the barn, and down the steps.

  I follow him down. Noah manages to get Sheer into the center of the room and together we hoist him up onto the metal surgical gurney.

  “Shut the door,” he says. I hurry up the steps and pull the door shut. When I come back, Noah is checking the wound on Mark’s head.

  “Not too bad,” he says. “He’ll live.”

  “We don’t want him to live,” I say.

  “We don’t,” he agrees. “But we want to talk to him first.” Noah presses a bandage against the wound then gets a needle and thread.

  For the next ten minutes, Noah tends to Sheer’s wound. He cleans it then sews it shut with a needle and thread. It looks like he’s done it before, but I don’t want to ask him about it. I stay seated in the corner, watching his movements, all precise and perfect. He takes some straps and secures them around Sheer’s legs, chest, and arms. Finally, he secures Sheer’s head with one last strap.

  When he’s finished, he gets a syringe from a drawer and presses it into Sheer’s neck. When he finishes plunging it down, Sheer suddenly takes a gasping breath and opens his eyes.

  “Mr. Sheer,” Noah says calmly. “Welcome.”

  Sheer tries to move, but the straps are tied tightly. His struggles only make the table rattle slightly.

  “Where am I?” he asks. “What are you doing?” His eyes roll around in his head as he takes in the room.

  “You’re nowhere,” Noah says calmly.

  “You. You’re the one that followed me.” His eyes go wide. “You took me. You hit me.”

  Noah smiles. “She hit you. But close enough.”

  Sheer’s eyes find me and I stare at him, excitement pulsing through me. This man is a monster, one of the worst humans in the world. He hurts children, innocent children, for his own sexual pleasure. He’s a disgusting beast.

  “What do you want from me?” Sheer asks Noah.

  “Information.”

  “What? I’ll tell you anything.”

  “That place. The warehouse. What was it?”

  Sheer opens his mouth then shuts it. I can tell he’s conflicted.

  “Don’t make this hard on yourself, Mr. Sheer,” Noah says. “I can find all of this out on my own. It will just make me more . . . sympathetic toward you.”

  Sheer groans. “I can’t. They’ll . . . they’ll kill me.”

  Noah smiles and leans forward. “So will I. Now speak.”

  Sheer groans again. “They bring them over from, I don’t know, Russia, I guess. I don’t ask questions.”

  “Who are they?”

  “It’s a woman. That’s the only person I ever see.”

  “What’s her name?” I ask.

  “Madame Green. Please, that’s all I know.”

  “This place. They have girls?”

  “Yes,” Sheer is sweating, fear clear on his face.

  “Boys?”

  “Yes,” he whispers.

  “Which do you prefer?” Noah asks, his lips close to Sheer’s ear.

  “Please,” he says softly. “Please don’t.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Girls.” Sheer closes his eyes.

  “How old?”

  “Under ten.”

  Noah straightens up and steps away from Sheer. He looks over at me and I can barely think as I stare at Sheer. “Amelia,” he says.

  I look up at Noah. “Yes?”

  “Come here.”

  I stand up and walk to him, almost as if in a dream. Sheer is crying, sobbing, his eyes shut. Noah smiles at me and wraps his arms around me, pulling me against him.

  “You heard that, right?” he asks softly.

  “Yes. He’s a monster.”

  Noah nods and kisses my lips softly. “Here,” he says. He takes me over to the workbench, picks up a large, sharp knife, and hands it to me.

  “What?” I stare at the knife.

  “I want you to do it, Amelia.”

  Sheer’s sobs get louder, and he starts to plead for his life, but I can’t hear him. I stare at the knife and then back to Noah as the implications sink in.

  “I . . . I can’t,” I say slowly.

  “You can. And you will. This man hurts people, fucking children, Amelia. Children.”

  I stare at the knife again, my head cocked to one side. Noah is right. Sheer doesn’t deserve to survive a single second longer. He’s a monster, a disgusting pig, but I’ve never killed before. I’ve never done it. I don’t know if I can.

  “It’s easy,” Noah whispers in my ear. “It’s the easiest thing you’ll ever do.”

  In a daze, I walk over to Sheer, guided by Noah. The pedophile struggles on the table, but he can’t move an inch. I’m deaf to his cries and his struggles, and the only thing I’m aware of is Noah and the knife, heavy in my hands.

  “Like this,” Noah whispers. He helps me grasp the knife, point-down, between my two hands. “Drive it into his heart.”

  Noah steps back. I glance at him then I look back at Sheer.

  My father stares back at me. My father, the bastard, the rapist, the pig, the animal, the monster. My father stares at me with a drunken grin, strapped down to the table, and I know what I have to do.

  My whole life has brought me to this moment. Everything I’ve done prepared me for this.

  I’m ready. I know I’m ready.

  I plunge the knife downward.

  It pierces my father’s heart, Sheer’s heart. It slides through his chest and tears his heart to pieces. He coughs and groans as blood wells up around the blade.

  I stare at Sheer’s face. His eyes are wet and wide as the life slowly drains from them. They lose their focus and then roll back into his skull.

  It feels good. So fucking good.

  I gasp and step back. Suddenly the realization of what I had just done rolls over me, and I’m dizzy, so dizzy. I stumble away and Noah’s arms wrap around me, pulling me against him.

  I killed a man. I plunged a knife into his heart and watched the life drain from his body. That man was a monster and deserved it, but I’ve never killed before. Strange sensations flow through me
, both good and bad.

  But most of all, I felt satisfied. Like I just ate for the first time in a very, very long time.

  “Good girl,” Noah whispers in my ear. “You did so good. So fucking good. I’m so proud of you.”

  I look up at him. His face is serious but there’s a smile on his lips. He kisses me softly, and suddenly my hunger wells up again, stronger than before.

  I press myself against him, needing it. I kiss him hard, running my hands through his hair before slowly moving them down to his belt. I unbuckle it in a frenzy and shove my hand down his briefs, finding his cock already hard.

  I begin to stroke him, mad with need and lust. He kisses my neck as I stroke his hard cock and I know I’m soaking wet, I can feel it practically running down my leg. He groans in my ear and bites my lower lip.

  “I knew this was what you needed,” he says. “You feel it, don’t you? You feel the satisfaction.”

  “I feel it,” I moan. He pushes me back and undresses me, practically tearing off my clothing. He undresses himself when he’s finished and then presses me up against the cool concrete wall, his hand between my legs.

  He’s like an animal as he slides his fingers inside of me. He pins me to the wall with his body and his free hand as he fucks my pussy, sliding it in and out. Barely ten feet away, the body of that pedophile fuck continues to bleed onto the ground, but all I can see is Noah.

  He grunts and takes my hips, turning me around. He can’t wait, just like I can’t wait. He presses his cock against me and pushes himself deep inside of my pussy.

  “Fuck,” I moan, dropping my head. He grabs my hair and fucks me deep and rough. “Come on,” I beg him. “Make it hurt.”

  “Dirty fucking girl,” he says, slapping my ass. He pulls my hair harder, sending a shock of pain through my system, and then fucks me deep and hard. His thick cock stretches my pussy walls to the limit as he slams himself deeper inside of me.