Don't Blink

by L. G. Davis

  I will do things differently this time around. Instead of looking for a teaching job, I’ll start my own business tutoring students online. Until then, I have some money saved up and a little left over from the money Ryan had left behind. It’ll keep me afloat for a while.

  The doorbell rings again, the sound bouncing off the walls. I continue to ignore it. My phone beeps next. Thinking it could be Jared, I grab it. It’s Dr. Collins’ office number. I don’t pick up until the caller gives up and leaves a message.

  “Mrs. Lester, this is Danielle from Dr. Collins’ office. You were scheduled to have an appointment with us yesterday, but you didn’t show up. Please, give me a call if you want to reschedule.”

  I drop the phone and continue to pack. Was that why Dr. Fern looked so disgusted with me earlier, because I missed an appointment? Am I the first person to do that? I’m not going back there. I’ll find a doctor who treats me with respect.

  I zip the bag shut and pick it up from the bed. I’ve packed several smaller bags instead of a big one to make it easier for me to handle the weight.

  After waiting a while to make sure the person who rang the bell is gone, I take one bag to the car and return for the next. As soon as I get back upstairs, I hear a movement downstairs. Someone is inside my house.

  Oh, no. I forgot to lock the door. How could I have been so stupid?

  I lock the bedroom door and grab a baseball bat, another weapon I keep in my room. I position myself next to the door and raise the bat as the sounds get louder.

  “Caitlin, it’s me,” Ruth calls from downstairs. “Can I come up?”

  Air whooshes out of my lungs. I lower the bat. First, I feel relief, but it’s soon followed by anger.

  What is she doing here? We haven’t spoken in days. She’d made it clear she wanted nothing to do with me.

  I storm out of the room, ready to give her a piece of my mind. I get to the top of the stairs and look down at her.

  “The door was open, so I let myself in.” She starts to climb the stairs, groaning with each step until she reaches me.

  “What are you doing here, Ruth? I thought you don’t want to be friends anymore.” I walk back into my bedroom and close the diaper bag.

  “I came to apologize. I shouldn’t have treated you so callously.” She clears her throat. “My late husband cheated on me ... several times up until his death. I guess it’s a sore point.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” I pause. “But you believed I cheated on my husband without proof of any kind.”

  “That was wrong of me to do. I’m sorry, Caitlin.” A frown touches her brow. “You’re packing. Are you going somewhere?”

  “Why not?” I scoff. “Why shouldn’t I leave? I’m not wanted in this town.”

  “But where will you go? Your baby will come any day. It’s not safe for you to—”

  “It’s not safe for me to stay here. I can’t stand the rumors anymore. Don’t pretend you’re not happy to see me go. You’re just like everyone else in this town. You chose to judge before you knew the whole truth.”

  Ruth peels her gaze from mine. “I saw the results.”

  “The results of what?” I perch on the edge of the bed, my knees too weak to hold me up. The baby rolls inside me.

  “The paternity results.” She raises her head again. “Someone must’ve got hold of them and distributed them around town.”

  “That has to be a joke!” I grit my teeth, the color draining from my face. “Who would do such a thing? What’s wrong with you people?” I get to my feet, but a wave of dizziness makes me sit again. I stood up too fast. “I guess I’m making the right decision getting out of here.” Before I can go on, a stab of pain hits my belly so hard I grip the sheets. “No,” I croak.

  “You need to calm down, sweetheart, for the baby.” Ruth comes to place a hand on my shoulder, but I shrug her off. “Stay here. I’ll get you some tea. Keep breathing.”

  When she returns with a cup of mint tea, the pain has subsided, but I’m too much in shock to move. I haven’t had that kind of pain before. I’m afraid that one wrong move will bring on labor. I’ll wait to feel completely better before leaving.

  “Do you feel all right?” Ruth sits down next to me. This time when she rubs my back, I don’t pull away.

  I take a sip of the tea. “Why are people so cruel?”

  Ruth doesn’t answer. I don’t ask any more questions as we sit side by side. Even after I finish the tea, we don’t speak for a long time.

  “Do you still want to leave town? Can I talk you out of it?”

  She’s the most confusing person I’ve ever met. First, she didn’t like me, then she liked me a lot, then she hated me, only to change her mind about me again.

  I place the empty cup on the nightstand and rise. The pain stays away. “There’s nothing here for me.”

  Ruth gets to her feet and stands in front of me. “You should stay. It’s not safe out there for a pregnant woman about to give birth.”

  I give her a weak smile. “I can’t stay here. It’s not safe for my baby or me.”

  “Where will you go?”

  “Somewhere safer than this place.”

  “What if your husband comes back?”

  “I’ll let him know where I am once I know where that is.”

  I bend a little to pick up the diaper bag from the bed. As soon as my hands connect with the handle, a sharp pain drives through my stomach again. It feels like the worst kind of menstrual cramps multiplied by a thousand or even a million. “Ouch,” I cry out. Another bolt of lightning strikes again. This time it knocks me over. I fall onto the bed, on my side, my arms around my stomach. Black dots appear before my eyes.

  Ruth lays a hand on my sweaty, glowing forehead.

  “The baby is coming.” I breathe in and out through my mouth. “Call an ambulance ... please.”

  “Don’t worry, sweetheart. Dr. Fern will be here any minute.” Ruth straightens up.

  “How ...?” My words are killed by another round of labor pains.

  I don’t know how long I’m lying on my bed, writhing in agony, but suddenly, through the rush in my ears, I hear a door slam and the sound of footfalls. Then two people are talking. Their voices sound as though they’re coming from far away.

  Someone with a red scarf hovers over me, but the face is blurred.

  Before I can make her out, another labor pain sweeps through me, and my world goes black.

  CHAPTER 43

  I wake up to find myself surrounded by darkness. My foggy mind is aware something is wrong, but not exactly what.

  I try to pull myself to a sitting position, but my body screams. My lower body feels as though it’s filled with glowing coals of fire determined to burn through my raw flesh. But at the same time, there’s also a weird numbness accompanying the pain.

  What happened? It’s hard to think clearly when images are mixed up inside my head. Failing to keep my breathing steady, I force myself to find just one thing—an image perhaps—that would help me remember. An image of Ruth’s face pops into my mind instantly. The missing pieces fall into place. I remember our conversation. I remember the labor pains.

  Alarm bells go off in my ears, the sound so loud it makes my head ache.

  On instinct, my hands move to my belly. My breath catches in my throat.

  My naked belly feels like a deflated balloon. Something that feels like a huge Band-Aid is stretched out across my lower stomach.

  “My baby,” I whisper, my hands continue to search the curve of my tender stomach, searching for signs that my child is still inside my womb, safe and sound. I need to keep her safe from the world.

  Ignoring the pain pulsing through my body with each desperate movement, with every breath, I search around me on the bed but only feel the crisp, cool sheets.

  Instead of my whole body, I turn my head to the side, sure I’m in the hospital, and my little baby is fast asleep in a bassinet close by. I stretch out my arm, feeling the empty air around m
e. I don’t find what I’m looking for.

  I didn’t lose her. I didn’t lose my baby. I let out a tortured groan that scrapes through my tight throat. “Please, God,” I choke. “No.”

  “Hush ...” someone says in the darkness. Ruth? “The baby is perfectly fine.”

  My sobs die inside my throat. I hold my breath to listen. Have I imagined the sound?

  The nightlight is suddenly flicked on. In the soft light, I can see her face. She’s sitting in the armchair not too far from the bed.

  The smile on her lips doesn’t reach her eyes. She was the woman with the red scarf, the woman who had been towering over me before I passed out.

  “Dr. Fern ... what?” My gaze flicks across the room. “My baby.” It’s hard to speak with such a dry mouth.

  “She’s a gorgeous, healthy baby.” Dr. Fern shifts the armchair closer and reaches out to sweep my damp hair from my forehead. “I’m glad I made it here in time.”

  My face breaks into a smile. “A baby girl.” Tears block my throat. “Thank God. Thank God she’s all right.” I attempt to sit up again, but Dr. Fern places a hand on my shoulder to press me back into the pillows. She didn’t need to. The pain is enough to keep me from moving. It’s just that I want to see my baby so badly. She must be in her nursery.

  “You should take it easy. You need to heal after the emergency Cesarean section.”

  “A C-section?” Why am I in the house after a C-section? Shouldn’t I be recovering in the hospital?

  “The baby almost died. I had to act fast. There wasn’t enough time to get you to the hospital.” She pauses. “It’s a good thing I’m skilled at using a scalpel.”

  “Thank you so much. Thank you for saving our lives.” My smile returns. “Can I see her ... my baby?”

  “I’m afraid that’s not possible.” Dr. Fern rises. The red scarf slides from around her neck to the floor. She doesn’t pick it up.

  “Is she okay?” Panic riots through me. Just because my baby is alive doesn’t mean there are no complications. “Did you take her to the hospital?”

  “She’s safe and well cared for. That’s all you need to know for now.” She picks up a white bottle of pills from the nightstand and removes two. “Ruth told me you planned to leave town.” She doesn’t look at me until she has closed the bottle. “That wasn’t smart at all.”

  A chill hangs over her last two words. “I needed to get away due to personal reasons.”

  “You could have given birth to my baby in some crappy motel, in the middle of nowhere.”

  “What?” I blink away the confusion. “I don’t—”

  “Stop talking and take these.” She lifts my hand from the bedsheet and drops the two pills into the palm of my hand. “They will take the edge off the pain.”

  “No.” I drop the pills onto the nightstand. “I don’t need painkillers. I’m fine.” My mind tells me that something weird is going on here, and I need to find out what it is.

  “Suit yourself.” Dr. Fern bends to lift her scarf off the floor.

  The moment I see it again, something inside me shifts. I don’t understand the feeling it stirs up, but it’s right there, attached to an explanation that’s out of my reach.

  “Where is my baby, Doctor? I want to see her.” I pull the covers up to my neck, and shiver as if a chill has settled into the room.

  Dr. Fern lowers herself onto the edge of the bed and looks down at me with a cold smile. “Sweetheart, she’s not yours. You were just the surrogate. Pearl is mine.”

  “Pearl?” I whisper.

  “Yes.” She gazes into the distance with a quiet smile. “My mother’s name.”

  “Excuse me?” I give her a blank look. “What the hell is going on here?”

  “Oh, yes. I like the sound of hell. How does it feel to be in hell?”

  I don’t answer as my mind tries to understand this situation. The woman who delivered my baby is transforming into a stranger with each word.

  “Who are you?” The words roll off my tongue before I can register them inside my mind.

  “Thought you’d never ask.” She gets to her feet and drapes her scarf over her shoulders.

  A sudden memory flashes across my mind. I’ve seen that scarf before, in another life. But where?

  “Oh, well, I guess the truth is long overdue.” She dips her head to the side, her hair spilling over her shoulders. “My name is not Loraine Fern as everyone believes. Before I came to Faypine, I used to be called by another name ... Tracey Pikes. Dr. Tracey Pikes, actually.”

  I tighten my grip on the sheets. “Should I know that name?”

  “You should. I’m sure Dylan mentioned me.”

  “Dylan?” Panic crawls up my spine.

  “Yes, darling, the man you killed in cold blood. He was my fiancé.” She waits to allow her words to sink in.

  I can feel the blood draining from my face. “You?”

  “I was the love of his life, the only love of his life.” She drops back into the armchair and crosses her legs. Her eyes don’t leave mine. “We had our ups and downs, but we always found our way back to each other. Until you butted into our lives.”

  “Oh my God ... I—”

  “You stole him away from me. You killed my baby.”

  I’m too shocked to do anything but listen to this revelation.

  “I talked to him the night of your wedding.”

  “My God.” I force the words from my mouth. She was the one on the phone with Dylan on our wedding night. She’s my stalker? “It was you? I thought—”

  “Yes, it’s me, your worst nightmare. You thought it was your brother, Ryan, didn’t you? You thought he’s still alive? That’s good. I wanted you to think he was.” A peal of laughter breaks through her lips. “No, darling. Your brother was too much of a coward to be able to do something like this. See, back then, I wanted you dead, and we agreed that he would carry out my plan. I paid him well to do the job, but he chickened out.” She shrugs. “I had no choice but to get him out of the way.”

  “You killed my brother?” My hands tremble to my throat. I’m finding it hard to breathe. The money I found in Ryan’s room, the money that helped me escape, must have been the payment she’s talking about.

  “Well, not with my own hands. His life was so messed up that it wasn’t hard for me to convince him to commit suicide.”

  CHAPTER 44

  She stands and leans down to whisper in my ear. “We had a plan, Ryan and I. We bonded over our hate for you. He wanted to punish you for what you did to him, and I wanted to do the same. And then he betrayed me. No one betrays me.”

  Her red scarf gathers onto my chest like a pool of blood, heavy with memories from the past. It finally hits me where I had seen it. It was the same red, Pashmina scarf I’d seen on Ryan’s bed. She is the woman I thought he was seeing.

  “I want my baby.”

  “Silly me.” She smacks her forehead. “I should have explained myself better.” She returns to her seat. “After you stole my man, I discovered I was pregnant. When I told Dylan about our baby, he told me it was too late. Apparently, he loved you.” She drags the palm of her hand down one cheek, leaving behind a smear of mascara. She’s crying. “He was lying to himself as much as he was lying to me. He only wanted to marry you in order to inherit his father’s money.”

  My throat closes up. Her words are like bricks, hitting me hard, shattering my heart into smaller pieces. “You are—”

  “Let me finish. I tried to stop him from marrying you.” She grabs her scarf and starts to twist it around her hand. “He gave me this scarf. It was his grandmother’s.” A quiet smile plays on her lips while the scarf tightens on her hand like a rope dipped in blood. “I was his true love.”

  “I want my baby.” The words push through my gritted teeth. I want to hear everything she has to say. I want her to fill in the pieces of the puzzle that have been missing from my memory. But she’s dangerous, and she has my child. I need to know where my baby is.

/>   “Shut up.” She shoots me a fiery gaze. “Shut up and let me finish.”

  “No, you shut up.” My rage gives me the strength to fight back. “If Dylan loved you, he would have married you. He left you.”

  “That’s what he told you?” She scoffs. “Well, honey, he lied.” She clears her throat. “Dylan proposed to me the week his father died. He wanted to get married immediately, but I wasn’t ready. I wanted to focus on my career. I was a top surgeon in New York. But he was impatient to get the money. So, he found the next available woman.” She pauses to place a hand on her flat stomach. The scarf she had wrapped around her hand had left an ugly mark. “My plans changed when I found out about our baby. My career took the back seat. I wanted him back. He turned his back on us.” Glistening tears slide down her cheeks. “My baby couldn’t handle my pain.”

  “You lost your baby?” I wince as cramps twist my stomach. It’s not only my body that’s hurting now. Everything hurts, including my heart. I have no idea where the pain starts and where it ends. The last thing I want is to hold a conversation with her, but her tears have weakened her for a moment. Maybe if I sympathize with her, she’ll spare my baby and me.

  “I was at the hotel that night.” She ignores my remark. “I was ready to give him one last chance, to forgive him for hurting me. But he was too stupid to see his chance. So, he had to pay. Both of you had to.” The tears have dried from her voice, which has now hardened.

  “You murdered Dylan. You said I did it.”

  “You might as well have. Yes, it’s true, I killed him, but it was your fault he died. I wanted to kill you, as well, like I’d planned, but I thought it would hurt you more if I took away what you stole from me. I wanted to see your pain.” Her voice turns low and dangerous. “I didn’t think it would be so easy. That night, I sent someone to bring up the champagne—”

  “It was spiked.” My throat closes up.

  “You’re smarter than I thought you are. I wanted to put you both to sleep before I came up to the suite to end it all. I wanted to do the main job myself.”