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Chapter Forty
Josephine
Wearily, my eyes watch the monitor while Doctor Gomez conducts an ultrasound. I can’t believe how much they’ve grown. How can something so small be so big at the same time?
A tear sneaks out from the corner of my eye as I watch my twins indulge in thumb sucking. At thirty-four weeks, they’re bigger than most twins and that is concerning.
Doctor Gomez warned Esteban that if the babies kept growing like this, I may need to be flown out of the countryside to a hospital for a Cesarean section. Though my hips and pelvis can accommodate a live birth fine enough, I could bleed out from internal tearing if the twins are too large.
I half expected Esteban to say, ‘Too bad, so sad.’ That was not the case. Esteban took the news seriously, setting up a cutting-edge operating room in the villa—a fucking operating room with blood on-site in case of an emergency. His concern makes me uneasy.
With how fast Esteban goes from hot to cold, I’m starting to suspect he has intermittent explosive disorder—like a Jekyll and Hyde type of mentality. Since the last time he assaulted me, I’ve not been on the receiving end of it.
However, others on the property have not been so lucky. Staff, soldiers, farmhands who have done something to offend Esteban, will be there one day and gone the next. It’s not hard putting two and two together. He’s disposing of them some way. I just don’t see it. I overheard one maid say to another in Spanish, “He kills people as often as he changes his underwear and possibly more than that.”
During one of my check-ups with Doctor Gomez, I asked if what the maid had gossiped was true.
“There is a reason I am here, Jo. If you refuse him, he will hurt you. If you deny him again, he will come after you and those you love. I learned after the first warning. When someone tells you he’s a monster, believe it. I’ve seen him do horrendous things many times, and I will see it many more times before he allows me to leave this place.”
A shiver ripped through me when he said that.
Some people crave ice cream. Well, Esteban has a thirst for killing.
“The twins are quite active today,” Doctor Gomez muses aloud, pulling me out of my morbid thoughts.
As if the boys know they’re being watched, one of the babies starts kicking out his leg, activating his twin to do the same. They like mimicking each other.
Yes, they are active, but I keep my words to myself. Since Esteban struck out at me, I barely talk. I’ll answer direct questions, but keep them short. The less I say, the better. My thoughts are best kept locked up in my head then to come out of my mouth. Lord only knows what Esteban would do if I spoke my mind. I’m not one to bite my tongue, but for the sake of my baby boys, I’ll become mute.
A heavy sigh leaves my lungs. At most, I have six weeks where my babies will be safe inside of me, but I doubt Doctor Gomez will allow me to go to term with their abnormally large size. It makes me nervous to think what Esteban will do after the twins are born.
Will he try to separate us? Or use them against me as a way to control me? What fresh hell awaits my children and me?
“I don’t know what his plans are,” Doctor Gomez says.
“Hmm?”
“You were thinking out loud. It’s best not to get lost in your head. You need to be alert around Señor Moreno,” he advises in a whisper.
Great.Not even my thoughts are safe. Stupid baby brain is making it hard to focus some days.
Doctor Gomez finishes the ultrasound and helps me sit up. He looks at me with worry lines etched deep into his forehead. “How are you doing? Stupid question, I know. But I’m concerned with your level of melancholy and anxiety.”
What can I say to the guy? There’s nothing that will make my emotional behavior better in my current predicament.
I want my husband. I want to be in his arms where he’d let nothing happen to me or our children. Another treacherous tear sneaks down my cheek, and I brush it away hastily.
The good doctor lays a supportive hand over mine. I appreciate his concern for my wellbeing, but the way I see it, he’s in as much danger as me—he needs to focus on himself.
A loud crash has both of us jumping. Angry shouts can be heard coming from outside the exam room.
“Quick, Jo,” Doctor Gomez says, helping me off the examination table. Hurriedly, he ushers me behind a medical cabinet. “Get down. We don’t know what the fighting is about.”
If Esteban is involved, then it’s nothing good.
Seconds later, the door is thrown open, crashing against the wall from the force. Esteban strides inside. His hair is disheveled and his nostrils flare with hostility. His eyes swing around the room ‘till they land on me, huddled on the floor behind the medical cabinet.
Doctor Gomez stands in front of me, the only barrier between me and the psychopath.
