Fighting Wrath

by Jennifer Miller

  Shaking my head trying to push the thought away, I admit to myself that somewhere along the way, things changed with Jason and I hope like hell this baby brings us back together in every way.

  Finally, Jason emerges dressed and begins putting his shoes on. He looks at me, raising a brow, “You ready?”

  “Are you kidding?” He just sighs and I roll my eyes and nod my head, then follow him out of his apartment into his car.

  I’m glad I stayed the night at his place. I haven’t been doing that much lately. Stupidly, I thought he would ask me to move in before the baby comes, or at least give me a key or something, but he never asked and I never suggested it. Part of me didn’t want to let go of my place anyway – maybe it has something to do with trying to hang on to the little bit of independence I still have before my life completely changes. Maybe it’s because I’m not ready to move out from the place I share with Tyson, even though he’s not there. I’m not really sure. I just know I’ve never pushed it, but now on the way to the hospital to have this baby, I can’t help but be nervous about what will happen when I walk out of the hospital. Will I go to Jason’s place or mine? Will he stay with me? We haven’t really talked about that. Will I really know how to take care of this baby? Will I be a good mother? Will Jason and I become the parents and family to this child that I never had?

  How does a woman that’s never truly had a mother or family of her own be that for someone else? I’m scared - so scared. I don’t want to fail at this. It’s too important to me. There have been times during my pregnancy that I actually wished for my mother. I almost laugh out loud at the thought. Maybe a child never truly stops wanting and needing her mother, I don’t know. Tyson and I left her five years ago, and never looked back. She’s rarely been a thought in my mind since - until I became pregnant. Then, thoughts of her – and her words - would come at the most random moments.

  When we pull into the hospital, Jason pulls right up to the curb down the sidewalk from the emergency room and sits there not looking at me. Looking at him in confusion I point to the road turning right just ahead, “The maternity center is on the other side, down that way.”

  He clears his throat, “I know, but the parking garage is here,” he points to the covered parking tower ahead. “Just go on inside. I’ll go park the car.”

  Sighing, I murmur, “Okay.” Arguing isn’t going to make a lick of difference.

  Unbuckling my seatbelt I glance at him and momentarily think about leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. When I see his clenched jaw, the impatience as he white knuckles the steering wheel, I change my mind. To aid my decision, my stomach tightens with a contraction. As soon as I stand up I feel a sizable trickle slide down my leg and grimace. I look over my shoulder at Jason, “See you in there.” He still doesn’t look at me – he just nods and drives away as soon as I shut the door.

  Shuffling my way to the entrance, I can tell I’m full on waddling. The water that continues to fall between my legs does not make this comfortable. I’m glad I had the foresight to put on dark sweats. Hopefully I won’t have to wait long to get into a hospital room.

  Stepping through the doors, I realize it’s busy. Several people are occupying the seats available in the waiting area and there are more than a few nurses behind the registration desk. Low murmurs and a buzz of activity fill the space. Deciding to take a seat while I wait for Jason, I try to make myself comfortable and relaxed on the stiff chair. You would think that they would make these seats more comfortable considering people who wait here are generally hurt or sick. I close my eyes, think of my happy place, and take breaths like I practiced in class.

  Calmer, opening my eyes and looking around the room, I take in everyone sitting around me. No visible blood or bones to be seen, thank goodness. While I’m trying to be patient, I feel my stomach tighten into a hard ball as a contraction begins. It’s short and doesn’t last very long, but they are definitely coming a little faster. It’s okay, I tell myself. Jason will be here any second and we can go to the maternity ward.

  “Tommy! I told you to keep the cloth on your cut. Now you’re getting blood all over yourself and the chair. Can’t you listen?”

  Swallowing thickly at the mother’s words, I wonder how I’d deal with something like that when it comes to my own child. Would I speak like that? I’ve never been one to handle blood well, not even my own. One time when I fell down and busted my knee open, I couldn’t even look at it without feeling bile rise up in my throat. Tyson took me home and cleaned it up and bandaged it for me. A small smile curves my lips at the thought. Tyson was always taking care of me. He is someone who will make a great daddy someday. I know he’ll be the best uncle. Me, on the other hand? I wonder if God is upstairs laughing over this one. Maybe he needs some entertainment or something. Perhaps the angels are getting boring, all that singing and playing of the harps becoming repetitious.

  “Mr. Hansen?” a nurse calls looking around the room for the owner of the surname. A gentleman that looks to be in his mid thirties walk towards the nurse. He’s holding his arm close to his body and winces in pain as he walks.

  Another contraction comes and this time it takes my breath away just a little. When it’s over I feel angry at myself for not looking at the clock when it began. I’m supposed to be timing how frequently they come and how long they last. People continue to get called back one by one. Meaningless conversations continue all around me and I start to worry about Jason. Where is he? What’s taking so long?

  Taking my phone out of my purse, I check to see if he texted or called to say something happened, but the screen is blank. Calling him, the phone rings over and over. When the voicemail picks up I leave a message, “Jason, where are you? My contractions are picking up. Please hurry.”

  Hanging up, I feel another contraction and this time, I glance at the clock, checking the time it began. Trying to think about things that bring me peace, I think about the songs the birds sing outside my bedroom window in the morning. How sunshine feels on my face and how I love the smell of rain. I think about how in a matter of hours this child will finally be in my arms. Looking at the clock when it’s over, I see that it lasted almost a minute.

  Picking up my phone I try again to call Jason. And again. And again. Each call goes straight to voicemail. Getting up I shuffle out of the hospital doors and look towards the covered parking garage. Nope. It’s still standing. No accident. Nothing appears to be a problem.

  The man I saw with a hurt arm a while ago, now leaves the ER with his arm in a sling. He nods at me as he passes and I make my way back inside, once again sitting in the chair. My contractions continue to come five minutes apart. Distracting myself by looking around the room, I realize that everyone is different. No one from when I arrived is still here.

  The big hand on the clock keeps moving and I’m still sitting here… alone. I try his phone, again. “Hi, this is Jason. You know what to do.” Lowering my arm slowly, I place my phone back in my bag.

  It doesn’t take this long to park the car.

  He’s not coming back.

  No man will ever stay.

  He doesn’t want me, or this baby.

  No one will ever love you.

  He left both of us.

  You’re not worthy.

  My mom’s words haunt me once again.

  COMING FALL 2015 FROM GYPSY RAE CHOSZER, AUTHOR OF RAIN CHECK

  Everyone’s story has a dark place. A place that claims some small part of who we are. For Emma Richardson that moment came when she was eighteen-- when the rushing water claimed the love of her life. Though Michael was gone, Emma carried a piece of him within her, a piece that would help chase away the darkness for the next five years.

  Jason Meyer had never seen eye to eye with Emma. He’d been Michael’s best friend and only saw her as a threat to their fun. But Jason was different now. Worn down by the heavy weight of grief and guilt, Jason craves Emma’s light.

  Can Emma and Jason make peace with their past
and let the stars change their future? The difference between falling and flying is where you choose to let your heart live. Where you choose to take a chance.

  www.gypsyrae.com

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  Goodreads – http://bit.ly/1itzUD3

  Twitter - @iamgypsyrae

  COMING SOON FROM MAYRA STATHAM

  AnneCarter

  As a little girl I dreamt of Prince Charming, I found out there was no such thing. On a rainy night, my nightmare of a Prince found me, but not my secret and I was able to run.

  But what I ran into that night might be worse.

  He’s far from being a fairy tale prince. Older, grouchy and sullen.

  One look in his eyes and I know he wants us as far from him as possible. Yet he keeps us safe, giving us more than harbor, he gives us hope.

  He might not be a Prince but he’s definitely the beastly King of his domain.

  John Davenport

  I’m a man who has avoided emotional entanglements longer than I care to remember. I should send them packing, but I can’t.

  I’m not a good man. I’m ruthless. Uncaring. Calculating.

  I’m a man with mile long list of faults and redemption is not within my reach, not in this lifetime. No where close to the man that deserves the beauty that they can bring into a man’s life.

  I just can’t seem to let them go.

  A rain storm might have brought them to me but I’m like a vine around them, needing a little bit of their light to thrive.

  Can two frightened souls heal and find courage to love again and become a family? Or are the ghosts of the past stronger than they can manage?

  Will the growly king and beautiful damsel in distress get their own modern day happy ending?

  Little girl’s might dream of Prince Charming but a woman deserves a KING that stands behind his QUEEN.

  Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/mayra.reyes.7967?fref=ts

  Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25998756-davenport-harbor

  EXCERPT OF EXPOSED BY JENNIFER DOMENICO – COMING SOON

  Chapter - Her

  As I walk down the sidewalk to the shop, I stop in my tracks. Ahead of me are throngs of trucks, cars, people, and equipment. And so it begins. Geez, I thought I would have longer than a month to prepare for this barrage of activity. I hurry to the store and quickly let myself in. Melissa and Sam are already inside, peeking out the window.

  “Morning,” I greet.

  Melissa turns to me, grinning. “His trailer is right over there,” she says, pointing. I look outside to see the temporary building across the street near the park. His name is painted in huge silver letters on the side of it. “He isn’t actually in town yet,” Melissa adds. “They said he’ll be here around lunchtime.”

  “Oh, goodie.”

  “Be sarcastic if you want,” Sam says. “But I for one am super excited to see him in real life. I’ve seen all his movies and this one is supposed to be really good.”

  Melissa nudges Sam’s arm. “Just remember, he’s into girls.”

  “So you think,” he says and winks. “You never know with the pretty boys.”

  “Can we talk about something else, please?” I chime in. “We have a lot to do today to set up for Valentine’s day.” Ignoring the shared glances of my employees, I walk to the back and remove my coat. Sitting down at my desk, I sigh. I can’t shake the nerves that have set in as soon as I saw the movie set coming to life. It will only be worse when the star gets here. All I can do at this point is try to avoid it and focus on my work. That plan has worked for me so far.

  After lunch, I start setting up a display of romantic books. The town square out front is filled with just about every town resident. Everyone but me. Even the kids were let out of school to catch a glimpse of a celebrity. I shake my head. I’m not impressed. I know just how bad things can get.

  Ignoring the crowd noise out front, I focus on my task. Picking up the next book, I flip it over to read the back, when the door jingles. I look up, but see no one there.

  “Melissa? Sam?” I call out, not expecting them to answer. I let them go outside a while ago. Hearing nothing, I return to stacking books, but swear I saw something move out of the corner of my eye. I stand up and look around seeing nothing. When I turn back around, I scream.

  “I’m so sorry,” the man in front of me says from behind a stack of books.

  Clutching my chest, I breathe my questions. “How did you get in here? Who are you?” As my breathing calms, I realize who it is.

  “I didn’t mean to startle you. I just needed a minute before I faced the crowd and this was the first place I saw that I could duck into.”

  He extends his hand while I just stare at him. Tiny pictures on a cell phone do not do the man justice. He is spectacular. So tall and tan and fuck.

  “Miss, are you okay?”

  “Uh, yeah.” I shake my head. “I’m fine. I just didn’t see you come in.”

  His hand still hangs in the air waiting for mine. I take it and immediately feel like jelly inside. Fucking jelly. He’s dangerous. My thoughts of self protection are running out the door yelling back at me to do whatever I can to keep his hand in mine. I haven’t felt like this, well, ever. It scares the shit out of me.

  “Nice to meet you.” I can barely form words.

  “You don’t know who I am?”

  Fuck yeah, I do. “No.”

  He grins and my knees feel like they might collapse. “Antonio.” He slightly bows his head. “Russo. And you are?”

  “Huh?”

  “What is your name?”

  My name. What is my name? Shit. “Giovanna.” I swallow hard. “Di Palermo.”

  “Pleasure to meet you, Giovanna Di Palermo.” He releases my hand and looks around. “I love this store. It’s perfect.”

  “For what?”

  “The movie. Haven’t you heard the title?”

  “No.”

  “Love and Books. I play the lead character that falls in love with the shop’s clerk. This is where we’ll be filming most of the movie. Didn’t you know that?”

  Fuck.

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