Chapter Fifty
Megan
“No, no, no, no!”
I pound my fists on the television screen. I was just watching my regular entertainment program, waiting for pictures of my love to be shown, when it switched to a live press conference being held in Los Angeles. My heart leaped when the lead singer of my love’s band stepped up to a wooden podium at the front of the press conference. When he announced their band was doing a six-week tour along the East Coast, I rushed to grab my phone and credit card, eager to buy tickets to every show. I was beaming with excitement as I dialed the number displayed on the screen.
That excitement vanished when Noah shared news that their lead guitarist Nick and his fiancée Jenni had given birth to a baby boy, Jasper Nicholas Holt, Saturday morning. I rushed toward the screen to seek any untruth in Noah’s dark eyes. He stared straight down the camera, gleaming with happiness.
When a picture of Nick and his whore flashes up on the screen, I grip the TV and yank it hard. After several harsh pulls, I yank it off the wall mount and send it hurtling across the room. While throwing anything I can find, I scream and yell obscenities. I’m equally angry and confused. I took care of her and her bastard child. She should be dead! They’re both supposed to be dead!
It nearly killed me sitting across from her at the coffee dates we had the past two weeks. I had to pretend to be friends with the whore solely responsible for Nick and me being apart. I was so confident once she was out of the picture, Nick would rush back into my arms, I took drastic action to make sure that occurred.
I initially considered keeping her baby since it was half of Nick, but I could never get his whore alone to put my plans into action. She was cautious any time I tried to schedule a coffee date at her house, and the times I attempted to follow her, she always lost me in traffic.
That’s when I devised another tactic. I traveled to New York to purchase a drug I had researched on the internet. Several minority groups in the city use it for illegal abortions since they can’t afford the ludicrous hospital bills. My plan was perfect. When Nick’s whore consumed the Misoprostol I purchased for her, she’d hemorrhage so bad, both she and her baby would be taken care of, leaving Nick free to be with me.
She was apprehensive when I handed her the water jug full of the raspberry leaf tea I had laced with the drug. I explained that the tea would help her body prepare for the birth. When she remained cautious, I showed her several articles on my phone to back up my claims.
I had to be extra careful to ensure she didn’t see the pictures I had of Nick stored as my screensaver. He was sleeping peacefully when I snapped them. I really miss watching him sleep. It’s been months since I’ve snuck into his bedroom.
I tried to follow him to his new house when I saw him loading moving boxes into his truck, but he spotted me, and boy was he angry. He yelled and cursed more than my daddy used to when my mother put glass shards in his soup.
Since I no longer know where Nick lives, I waited for him every day at the Dungeon, but he never showed up. When I looked up his information in the directory, it said there was no one by that name in the area. I didn’t give up, though. I searched and searched and searched for him for weeks. Not once did he turn up. I was beginning to worry I’d never find him again.
Now I have nothing to fear. I know where he is. He’s at the hospital. I’m so excited about seeing him again, I want to go to him right now, but I can’t. I need to gather supplies first.
I search for my purse and keys under the overturned mattress, in the toppled bedside tables, and next to the broken painting before I locate them under a broken picture frame. With an extra spring in my step, I head to my car in the parking lot of my motel. I’m just about to turn on the ignition when someone grabs me roughly from behind.
It feels like an elephant sits on my chest when an extremely large arm pins me to my seat. I try to scream, to announce that I’m being attacked, but the white cloth covering my mouth muffles my screams for help.
Within seconds, I feel woozy, and my vision blurs. As my eyes burn with tears and my throat dries, my blinking lengthens.
Then all I see is blackness.
Epilogue
Jenni
Two years later…
“I’m buying a gun.” I giggle at the horrified expression crossing Nick’s face. Earlier this morning, I gave birth to a baby girl—a girl Dr. Morgan assured us was a boy.
“It must have been the umbilical cord this time around,” I jest, looking down at our blonde-haired beauty cradled in my arms.
Harper Jade Holt came screaming into the world three weeks early. She surprised us all when I went into labor just as Rise Up was due to go on stage to perform. Nick was panicked out of his mind, but I assured him he had plenty of time to wrap up his performance before we had to go to the hospital.
My labor was much different this time around since I hadn’t unknowingly digested an illegal drug. The day before I was due to be discharged from the hospital after having Jasper, Ryan, a detective from Ravenshoe PD, informed me that my tea was indeed spiked with a significant amount of misoprostol. Nick was unable to maintain Ryan’s eye contact when he informed us a warrant had been issued for Megan, and the instant she was located, she would be arrested.
He must have had an inkling that day wasn’t going to occur any time soon. It’s been a little over two years since I was drugged, but the person responsible for mine and Jasper’s near deaths has not yet been brought to justice. No one has seen or heard from Megan since the day I gave birth to Jasper.
I hate that she’s still out there, free to hurt another unsuspecting victim, but I’m confident justice will eventually prevail. If the authorities don’t get her, I’m certain karma will. You can’t exhibit her level of craziness and not expect it to catch up to you. Megan will face the consequences of her actions one day, but until then, I’ll continue assuring Nick he isn’t to blame for the craziness she brought into our lives.
He feels so incredibly guilty that his “player lifestyle” nearly cost him everything that he’s worked relentlessly the past two years striving to fix his errors. Although I hate that he feels remorse—he didn’t even sleep with Megan, so how is he to blame for her drama?—his endeavors to make things right haven’t just made him a better husband and father; they’ve also made him a better friend.
For a man who was last to arrive and first to leave at every function the band held in the years leading to us getting together, he’s grown incredibly close with his bandmates the past two years. Things are still rocky between Slater and him, but compared to four years ago, there has been a remarkable improvement.
I’m drawn from my thoughts when Noah ribs Nick from across the room. “At least you didn’t faint this time around.”
