His Amazing Baby_A Miracle Baby Romance

by B. B. Hamel

  It has to be her. My heart starts freaking out, beating so fast, and I have to turn away and calm myself. I’m so nervous it almost hurts. My palms are sweating and my knees feel shaky. I take deep, deep breaths and think about everything I talked about with Noah. I wonder if he can see me right now, but it doesn’t matter. I know what I have to do.

  I stay up against the statue I’m standing next to. I’m hidden in the shadows and I know she can’t see me. Noah scouted this spot out and placed me here on purpose. I can see her, but she won’t be able to spot me, not yet at least. I adjust myself, cleaning up my appearance a little bit as she walks over the bridge. I wait until she’s about two thirds of the way across and then I begin to walk.

  This is the hardest part. I have to time it right. As I step out onto the sidewalk and start moving toward her, I adjust my face, trying to look casual.

  I glance up and take a quick look at her. She’s around my height, probably in her fifties, with dyed jet black hair and thick makeup. She’s pretty, or at least she once was when she was younger. She looks tired and stressed, and her eyes are down on the ground.

  I look away and hurry. I’m moving too slow, and for a second I think I’m not going to make it.

  But I do. We meet just as she gets to the end of the bridge. This is the spot, and I step toward her to make my move.

  She steps back, looking surprised. She reaches toward her purse for something and I smile at her.

  “Excuse me,” I say. “I’m so sorry. Am I going west right now? Or south? I’m like, I don’t know, a little drunk? And new in town. So I’m a little lost.”

  She looks at me for a second then relaxes. I’m wearing a Northface jacket, a pair of black tights, and Ugg boots. I look like a typical college girl, and I’m even pretending to be a little drunk.

  “You’re going west,” she confirms. “Where are you headed, sweetie?”

  I can feel my excitement rising. If this is the right person, and it has to be, it’ll happen any second now.

  “Like, my friend is out, I don’t know, like, out there somewhere?” I point west, in the direction she just came. “I forget what street. I know it’s in here somewhere,” I say, looking into my purse, pretending to be looking for my phone.

  That’s the sign. It’s the sign. He should make his move.

  Nothing happens.

  I dig a second longer, trying to delay. “Shoot,” I say. “I can’t find it.”

  “I can help, just let me know where you need to be. Or I can call a cab for you.”

  She’s being surprisingly nice. I have to remind myself that she’s the Madame at a whorehouse which carries young girls.

  “Cab? I don’t know, do I have money?” I keep talking, just to keep her distracted. “I think Joey said, like, I could walk home? I left that bar back there, you know that loud one, and Joey was all like, you’re so drunk. And I was like, I’m fine, you know? I’m fine. I’m a grown woman. I can do what I want.”

  I can tell that the more I speak, the less interested this woman is. She’s inching away now, already trying to disengage herself from this conversation. I can’t let her get away, though. Noah should be here by now, should have made his move, but it’s quiet and I’m panicking.

  I can feel it. I’m panicking. Deep inside my core I’m panicking, I’m terrified, this is almost my worst nightmare. Noah should have come out already, made his move, did his thing. But he’s not here and I’m alone with this horrible, terrifying woman, and I’m babbling like an idiot.

  I can just walk away. I can just walk. If I do, I can get the nearest cab and be back at Noah’s place in an hour. It’ll cost me all the money I have on me, but what’s it matter? I can just walk away.

  The panic steals my mind away from me. Fear does that. It’s the mind killer. I read that phrase is a book somewhere. Fear is the mind killer. Noah gave me a book with that phrase in it.

  I take a step away from the Madame. She’s watching me, head cocked. She said something, but I missed it. I realize that I’ve been babbling about this fake party the whole time.

  She’s suspicious. I can see it.

  Then there’s a dark blur to my left. It’s fast and it’s terrifying as it flows up the bridge wall and descends onto the Madame.

  She doesn’t have time to scream. Noah is on top of her, a syringe shoved into her neck, faster than I can even blink. I’m shocked as he looks up at me, the Madame collapsing into his arms.

  “Get her feet,” he says.

  My senses come back to me in a flood. I leap forward and grab her feet, just like we practiced. We carry her over to the edge of the bridge and, instead of water, there’s a ledge down below. Noah goes first, leaving the Madame dangling in my grip. Once he’s down, I release her. She drops onto him, knocking them to the ground, but we planned for that. I climb down after him once he’s up and seems okay.

  It took maybe ten seconds at most. Once the Madame was out, we moved as fast as we could, and probably did that little maneuver faster than we ever did in practice. Noah rigged this complicated little training system in his house complete with a crazy-heavy practice dummy which we used to go over that little trick maybe a hundred times.

  I help Noah carry the woman along the ledge and under the bridge. We disappear into the dark and then I throw myself at him.

  His arms wrap me in a hug. “It’s okay,” he says softly. “It’s okay.”

  “You didn’t come,” I say, nearly crying.

  “I’m sorry. There was a homeless man looking through a trashcan. I had to wait for him to move on.”

  I nod, getting myself together. He told me that was a possibility. If someone was around to witness that, he wouldn’t come out. He said I had to be prepared to stall.

  I wasn’t prepared, not at all. I panicked. I almost ruined it.

  “She saw through me,” I say. “I felt it.”

  “She didn’t see anything,” he says. “It doesn’t matter. We have her.”

  We part and then look down at the woman.

  “Is that her?” I whisper.

  “It’s her,” he confirms.

  “She’s older than I would have thought.”

  “Help me tie her up.”

  Noah produces a rope and together we tie her hands and her feet. We make sure that they’re tight and then we bind her to a support for the bridge using the last of the rope.

  The ledge isn’t wide, but it’s enough for the three of us. Noah looks at me and smiles, and I get a good look at him for the first time.

  He’s dressed all in black, just like the night at my father’s and the night we took Sheer. He has a large backpack on his back filled with the most important parts of this whole thing. He drops it down to his side and pulls out a large knife, the same knife that I used to kill Mark.

  “Ready?” he asks.

  “I’m ready.”

  “Just let me do the talking.” He takes another syringe from his bag and shoves this one in her neck.

  It wakes her up with a start, just like Sheer woke up. She tries to thrash and she looks around wildly, but the ropes are tight and firm.

  “Where--?”

  “Don’t speak.” Noah gets right in her face. “If you scream or call out, you will die. Do you understand?”

  I watch as she slowly comes under control of herself. It’s amazing. She goes from terrified and confused to totally in control in less than a few seconds. It’s totally unnerving, actually.

  “What do you want?” she asks quietly.

  “The place you work.”

  She watches Noah for a second. She glances at me and then back to him. “You’re the one that’s been watching us.”

  He looks surprised, but he quickly controls himself. “So you noticed me.”

  “We notice everything,” she says.

  “Then I guess we don’t have much time.”

  “No. Probably not.”

  “Who do you work for?”

  She smiles. “Do you really wan
t to know?”

  “Speak.” Noah’s face is hard and controlled. I’m trying to stay as calm as him, but I doubt I’m doing a good job.

  “There are people in this world, powerful people with lots of money. They can keep a place like mine in business for a very long time. Even with the sort of services we provide.”

  “What kind of services?” I blurt out.

  She looks at me and smiles. “Anything you can imagine, we cater to.”

  “Who are they?” Noah asks, drawing her gaze back to him.

  “Governors. Mayors. Senators. Bankers. Business men. Lawyers. People with means and some without.”

  Noah’s expression grows darker. “I want names.”

  “No,” she says. “I’ll die before I give you names.”

  “Okay then.” He turns to me. “Amelia?”

  “No,” I say softly. “It’s your turn.”

  He smiles. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  Truth is, I want to watch. I know I’ll kill again one day, but not tonight. He put so much work into this moment, and he deserves it more than anything. I can’t imagine taking the pleasure of the kill away from him.

  He takes the knife and holds it against her chest.

  “One less scumbag on the earth,” he whispers to her. “Good luck.”

  “Wait—“ Her eyes go wide.

  He plunges the knife into her chest.

  I watch Noah’s face. It’s pure ecstasy, pure pleasure. He watches her face as it drains of life, the blood pooling all around her.

  He exhales and slowly pulls the knife from her chest.

  We sit there in silence together, looking at her body. She looks smaller in death, less menacing. Her eyes are open but Noah doesn’t close them.

  “Okay,” he says. “One last thing.”

  He reaches into his bag and pulls out a tooth. He puts it into the Madame’s pocket. He pulls out a shoelace and he wraps it around her wrist. Once he’s done, he stands.

  “Let’s go.”

  I stand up and stare at her body. Sheer’s tooth and his shoelaces were Noah’s whole plan. He believes that even if it seems totally improbable and unlikely, they’ll think that the Madame was Sheer’s killer all along, thereby clearing me. Or at least they won’t be looking for me so hard.

  “Noah,” I say.

  He pauses and looks at me. For a second, I can’t help but imagine what my life would have been like without him. I can see myself, poor and alone, struggling to get by. I can see myself with the darkness locked inside of me with no way out. I can see myself drinking more and more, doing drugs, doing anything to find some ounce of relief, but I never do. I can see myself dying young, pathetic, alone, afraid, in a gutter, with nothing.

  But I don’t need to see any of that. I don’t need to see it, not anymore, not with Noah in my life. He’s here and I’m here and we’re doing this together. We’re leaving town, running away, starting over, making a new life together. We’re beating the system and leaving one last Fuck You for the bad people of this city.

  I don’t know what it’ll be like somewhere else. All I know is that I want to find out. I want to be there with him, wherever it is. He can bring me to that next place, make it better, make it great.

  I smile at him and nod my head once. “Okay. Let’s go.”

  He takes my hand and we leave the Madame’s dead body behind us. We don’t look back.

  28

  Noah

  Two Years Later

  My workshop is nearly full as I lug another box through the front door. I drop it off into a corner and head back out into the sunshine and the warm afternoon.

  Nobody is around, though they wouldn’t be right now anyway. The locals all take a nice long break in the afternoon, their little siesta hour, and I like to use that time to get some extra work done. They all think I’m weird for wanting to stay busy all day, but that never bothered me. Then again, I wouldn’t see anyone around here anyway, since we’re so damn secluded.

  I carry the last box into my workshop and grab a knife. I cut it open slowly down the taped seam then pull it open. Inside are sheets of plastic, that thick, beautiful kind that I love.

  “I’ve never met someone that looks so lovingly at plastic.”

  I look up and smile. Amelia stands in the doorway, looking gorgeous, her belly swollen with pregnancy.

  “I don’t love the plastic, it’s what the plastic represents.” I walk over to her and kiss her lightly on the lips.

  “I miss it too, you know,” she says softly.

  “I know you do. We’ll be ready to go again soon.” I put my hand on her bump and smile. “You’re almost ready to burst.”

  She sighs. “The sooner the better.”

  “Then, once you do, we can get back to work.”

  “Looks like you have a lot of work planned the way you’re stockpiling that plastic.”

  “You should see the underground part.” I grin at her, referring to the several basements under my workshop.

  “Come on,” she says, shaking her head and smiling. “Come have some lunch.”

  “Just let me get this stuff downstairs. I’ll be in soon.”

  She waves and heads back toward the main house as I hit the false screwdriver hanging on the wall that activates the basement door.

  It slides open, pushing a fake hay bale aside. I grab a box and head down the stairs. The lights come on automatically as I step down onto the concrete floor.

  I smile to myself. It’s been a couple months since I’ve had a reason to come down here. I put the box in a corner before walking into the center of the room which has a drain in the floor and a stainless steel surgical table overtop it.

  This is my second home, my sanctuary, my church. It’s where I worship at the altar of death. Ever since Amelia got pregnant, we’ve had to slow down our killing considerably, but I can’t wait until we can start again.

  She’s remarkable, Amelia. She learned so much faster than I thought she would. Once we left the city two years ago, we moved across the country, not staying anywhere too long before finally crossing into Mexico. From there, we got a flight to Spain where we’ve been living ever since.

  Spain is a beautiful country. We didn’t think we’d stay, but we love the people, the wine, the food, everything. A year ago, I bought some land outside of a large city and began to build my property again. It was completed six months ago, which means it only got some two months of solid use before Amelia was just too pregnant to continue.

  I didn’t think it was fair to keep killing without her, and so I’ve abstained as well. I know that as soon as our child is born, everything will change, and I’m not sure that I mind it so much. We’ll be able to continue our work, keep hunting down horrible people and ending them, but we’ll be slowed down.

  It’ll be worth it. All of this is worth it.

  Because I’m with Amelia.

  Ever since we left the city, my screaming need has been more of a whisper. I’m not as deeply addicted to the death as I once was, which both terrifies me and excites me. I can feel it slowly ebbing away, getting softer, quieter. Amelia takes that edge away.

  I want a family. I want a life. I know that one day, we’ll have to stop killing completely. I still have plenty of money, but who knows how long it’ll last. Spain is a strange place and we’re still getting used to it.

  I finish bringing down the boxes. Once they’re all stacked in a corner, I take one last look at the beautiful knives all hanging in their places before heading back upstairs. I shut the trap door then walk back into the main house.

  Amelia is in the kitchen, making lunch. It’s a tapas-style lunch, all different small meal platters, cheeses, a little wine, and some other gorgeous dishes. Ever since we moved to Spain, she’s really flourished, learning the language even faster than I did and taking up local cooking.

  I come up behind her and kiss her neck. She smiles and tilts her head back, kissing my lips.

&nbs
p; “Hungry?” she asks.

  “Of course. Smells amazing.”

  “Go ahead and take what you want.”

  I slap her ass and she giggles before walking over and grabbing a plate. I take a few things and eat as I sit at the island, watching her.

  Nothing could have prepared me for what was going to happen with her. At first, I thought it was just pure lust between us. I thought I just wanted to break her, make her into my sex slave, something dark and dirty. But instead, she showed me something else, a light I never knew about. She showed me that this was possible.

  She showed me that another level to life was possible.

  After a few minutes, she joins me at the table. She’s nine months pregnant and she’s due practically any minute.

  But there’s one more thing. One last thing we need to do.

  I want a family. I want a life with her. I want it all and need it all more than I could have imagined. We still fuck like the first day we met, and that spark never, ever went away. I know it’ll never fade so long as we keeping feeding it.

  And we will. But there’s one more thing.

  “Amelia,” I say. She looks up at me, smiling. “I spoke with Senor Hernandez.”

  She cocks her head. “The priest?”

  I nod and reach into my pocket. I pull out a small box and place it on the table in front of her. She looks at it quizzically.

  “He said he’s willing to marry us.”

  It takes her a second to understand, but when she does, her eyes go wide. “Are you serious?”

  “Very serious.” I nudge the box toward her. “Open it.”

  She reaches forward and takes it. Inside is a diamond ring that I had custom made in town for her. She stares at it for a second and then looks at me, tears in her eyes.

  “Noah,” she says.

  “What do you think?”

  “Of course. Yes, I’ll marry you.” She laughs. “After this baby is out, though.”

  “Good.” I pull her toward me and kiss her. “We’ll have the baby and then we’ll be married.”

  “I love you so much, Noah.”