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“It’s—shit, no, it’s a doctor appointment for Olivia. She’s supposed to find out if she’s pregnant.”
For the first time, Elliot is dead silent. It takes him a moment before he speaks. “Well, damn. That’s something. That also sounds like more reason for you to move her to a safehouse if the answer to that might be yes.”
“We can’t skip this appointment, man. This is… fuck, this is our future.”
“I’m not saying for you to skip the appointment. Maybe keep close to her and then, after the appointment, move things? Either way, I wouldn’t let this go on longer than it already has,” he warns. “We don’t have enough right now to move in on Holly, so if it is her, she’s got plenty of time to escalate.”
“You got me between a rock and a hard place here, El.”
“Yeah, I know. But we’ll figure it out.”
Says him. He’s not the one who has to find a way to float this idea by Olivia. How the hell am I gonna do that?
* * *
The answer is, I don’t. Not effectively, at least.
Olivia is tucked into bed, her hair still a little damp from her bath, but instead of the serene face of calm I left her with, she’s glaring at me, indignant as all hell. Yeah, I get it. The idea of getting sequestered away while some weirdo gets to roam free sucks, but I have to convince her this is the best idea.
“I don’t understand why I can’t stay here,” she repeats for the third time after I’ve explained Elliot’s suggestion—albeit with the glaring omission of Holly’s potential involvement. “Here is safe! You said that your cop friend was going to stay stationed outside the house.”
“Yeah, but I don’t want to cut any corners here, Olivia. We still gotta figure out who’s doing this. Why they’re doing it. Getting you somewhere they don’t even know about is better than being in the one place they do know where to find you, don’t you think?”
“But… what about…?” Her hands settle on her stomach. She doesn’t even have to finish the sentence.
“How about this?” I suggest. “Why don’t I pull a few more strings and see if I can get someone to make a home visit?”
She looks at me incredulously. “Doctors make home visits for ultrasounds?”
“They do when you pay them well enough.”
Olivia rolls her eyes and settles back against the pillows. “All of this is crazy.”
“Sure the fuck is. But you know what? We’re gonna make it. I will never let anything happen to you, to Violet…” I slip my hand over hers on her stomach. “And if there’s a little Dalton in there, I’m never letting anything happen to them, either. I swear on my life.”
Olivia bites her lip, looking me in the eyes. “I don’t want you to have to do that,” she says softly. “I just want whatever’s going on to go away, you know?”
I nod. “Then I’ll make it happen.”
28
OLIVIA
I’ve never liked being confined.
I like air flow and sunlight and big spaces. It was one of the things that made nannying fun. Children require play, adventures, and fun. Those things are rarely conducted behind closed doors inside four walls.
So staying home, not even able to go outside—not even daring to take Violet into the backyard—has my nerves on edge. But what’s the alternative? Go outside and risk being harassed or worse by the person behind the mysterious blocked number? It’s not just me that I have to think about; it’s Violet, too. It’s the inconclusive, might-be-a-baby inside me.
The only thing that makes it easier is Reese. He’s as headstrong as ever and even though it’s still frustrating as often as not, there are moments aplenty when I appreciate that I can always count on him.
Still…
I might go crazy.
I’ve been through the house three times. I’ve cleaned every surface, put away toys, found the smallest of things to do just to get my mind off the confinement.
And my impending appointment.
