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“I can arrange to have you flown by helicopter to Cartagena where they have a plane that can take you to Chicago.”
“Please do,” I say as I go upstairs to pack.
* * *
Nicolette
I’ve only been in the air for an hour out of Cartagena when my phone rings. It’s Manuel. Relieved, I answer. “I’m sorry. I mean it. Please talk to me.”
“Go home, Nicolette. Don’t come to Chicago.” The words are hard.
“No. I told you. Home is where you are, and we have to discuss this.”
“Fine. I’ll order the pilot to turn around myself.”
I close my eyes. “If you do, I’ll find another way to leave. This isn’t good for the baby or me.” The words slip out without thought. Damn it. I didn’t want to tell him like this.
It’s quiet for so long I wonder if he’s hung up. “Manuel?”
“You have to terminate the pregnancy.” It’s a statement. Cold and implacable.
The words don’t make sense. Does the word actually come out of me? It feels like I can only move my lips, because there’s no air in my body. “Why?”
“I don’t want a child. I want you. After Blanca died, I found there are studies showing a father could be at fault for preeclampsia killing the mother.” I shake my head. He isn’t done. “There are multiple studies. Even if it weren’t a factor, I’m not taking a chance. The risk is too high. Since it’s early, the best method will be—”
“No.” I want to say more. To argue he’s wrong. I can’t. What if he’s right?
“Yes.” It’s brutal. “You will not continue this pregnancy.”
I blink and see red. I’m not sure where the instinct to protect my baby comes from—maybe it’s him calling it a pregnancy not a baby. There isn’t a doubt in my mind he means it and will do whatever it takes to get his way.
“Fuck you. I will not kill our child. I’m on my way to Chicago and we’ll talk then. If you tell the pilot to turn around, I will leave. But it won’t be to get to Chicago. Make me run from you to protect our child and I will. I know about the tracker, and I also know how to remove it,” I warn him. This time I’m the one who hangs up.
He’s wrong. I’ve never heard anything about a father being the cause of preeclampsia. Only to deflate as I admit I don’t know much about it just the nightmare fuel that it kills women and in the worst cases, also the baby. Hands shaking, I do a search on my phone.
The results are overwhelming, and terrifying. He’s not wrong. But almost immediately, I find there’s been a test recently approved to find out if it could happen. So, if the test says…
What if the test says he’s right? Closing my eyes, I lay my hand on my stomach. I don’t see a difference. I don’t even feel a difference. Except in my heart. Now that I know it’s there, it’s not anit. It’s a little girl with his eyes or a little boy with his nose. And I… how could I kill him or her?
Besides, I’m young and healthy. I could get through one pregnancy. Blanca did.
Except, if I don’t... A photograph of an Olympic medal winner who died recently taunts me. She was older than me, yes. But there’s no way in hell I’m healthier than she was when she died.
By the time I land in Chicago, I’m no closer to figuring out what I’m going to do.
It gets even worse when I land and Manuel doesn’t meet me at the small commuter airport outside of the city. I hoped since he hadn’t told the pilot to turn around it meant he… I don’t know what I hoped.
A driver is waiting with a door open. I get in with a sigh.
The drive into the city is done in silence. I’m pretending I don’t notice the way the driver keeps eyeing me in the rearview mirror. It’s a little annoying, but I don’t say anything.
I’m so lost in my thoughts, it takes a while to figure out we’re going farther out of the city, not into it. I stiffen. “Where are we going?”
“Home,” the driver says in an accent I’m pretty sure is… Blood drains from my face. I’ve heard that accent—not just the accent, the voice. I lift my eyes to the man. It’s him. One of those dirty, scary mother fuckers my father had come to the house to do something very bad.
I shake my head as I close my eyes. “He’s going to kill everyone you love and ever loved you.”
His laughter tells me this man is stupider than he looks. “This is a simple business transaction. You for your father. No, there is no service on your phone. Cell jammer has been on since you got in. His man due to meet you is dead, his cell sent a text he picked you up and is on his way. The only person who is going to end up dead is your father. It’s something we both want. But I need something from him first. If your husband gets a hold of him, he’ll kill him before I get what I need to know. We’re both happy in the end.”
