Authors: Emily Goodwin
“Isn’t that boring?” Lily asked.
“Kinda. I just like the pictures.”
“Gross,” she said with a smile.
I shrugged and looked at a page full of colorful pictures of body slices. I flipped back to the beginning and started reading. When I was in school, I hated reading textbooks. I rarely did, actually. Lynn and I discovered that we didn’t have to actually read the whole thing, just skim through it and pay attention to anything in bold.
Now I had nothing else to do other than obsessively worry and stress. I was pretty sure it had given me an ulcer, which was why I didn’t feel well.
“How does it look?” Lily asked when she was finished curling her hair.
I looked up from a chapter on cell growth. “It’s pretty.”
“Do I look eighteen?”
I internally cringed at the hidden implications of her question. “Seventeen and a half,” I answered. Lily made a face but smiled. She moved to the wall of clothes and put on a skintight hot pink dress and a silver jacket over top. She grabbed a pair of silver shoes and sat on her cot, waiting. All Zane had to do was open the basement door and she would get up and rush up the stairs. It reminded me of my dogs. The pantry door squeaked when it was opened. Knowing that their treats were stashed inside, both dogs would come running and sit patiently next to the pantry and wait for someone to give them a treat. And someone
always
gave them treats.
My head hurt again. It had been hurting off and on for the last few days. I went to the bathroom and then lay down on my cot, pulling the blue blanket over my legs. The eight rows of little scratches in the dry wall flashed before my eyes when I closed them. The tally marks were haunting, reminding me of how little time I had left. It was the longest I had gone without working, though, which was disturbing in its own way.
I rolled over and tried to fall asleep. The sun had only just set, but I was tired already. It wasn’t like I had a well-defined sleeping schedule anymore. I pictured the dining room again. This time it was Thanksgiving. My grandparents, Aunt Gina, Uncle Henry, and their two kids crowded in with us. Jackson took his spot next to me. Arianna was still on her phone. The turkey was over done, and the mashed potatoes were lumpy. It was perfect.
My eyes opened and I sharply inhaled as a thought occurred to me. This was the longest I had gone without working … and it was the longest I had gone without something else. Sweat immediately broke out on my forehead. I was wrong, I had to be. I sat up, thinking back. Time had become ambiguous, and I wasn’t sure just how long it had really been since I had it last, which meant it had probably been longer than I thought. I flew out of bed and darted to the vanity. I bent down, shuffling through a white plastic box that housed tampons.
“I know you’re in here,” I muttered. I had seen it before. It had to be in there, just buried at the bottom. “Yes,” I said and grabbed it, ripping open the box. I sat on the toilet and unfolded the little instruction paper that came with the pregnancy test. I positioned the stick between my legs, making sure the end got saturated with enough urine.
My legs were shaking when I stuck the clear plastic cap over the pee-soaked end. The paper said to wait three minutes. I closed my eyes and started counting. I made it twelve seconds. The blue control line popped up right away. I brought the test close to my face and squinted, examining the spot where the second line would appear.
It was too dim on the toilet. Not looking away from the test, I wiped, flushed, and moved to the vanity. I flicked on the bright lights and set the test down. I took a step back, telling myself that I would wait the full three minutes and then look.
That didn’t work either. I put my hands on the counter and leaned down, glaring at the test. I still didn’t see a second line. I blinked. Or did I? “No,” I said to myself and looked at my reflection. “You’re imagining it.” I squeezed my eyes shut and took a breath. Then I looked at the test again.
The basement door opened and shut. The locks slid into place and Jackson clomped down the stairs. “My back fucking hurts,” he complained. “Addie?” he said when I didn’t move. “You okay?”
I turned around with tears in my eyes. My heart was pounding and I felt like I was going to pass out. I shook my head. “I’m pregnant.”
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
JACKSON’S FACE TURNED white. “What?”
I held up the pregnancy test. I felt like I was going to throw up again, though this time I thought it was from nerves. “I’m pregnant,” I repeated. A mangled laugh erupted from deep inside of me, twisting into a sob. My knees felt weak, and I was dizzy. Jackson ran over and put his arm around me.
“It’ll be okay,” he said automatically.
“How?” I asked and turned into him. I wrapped my arms around his neck, still holding onto the pregnancy test. Everything felt surreal.
This isn’t happening.
“They’ll kill you,” I rushed out. My entire body trembled. “They really will. Oh God,” I sucked in air and exhaled quickly. “Jackson. They’ll kill you and make me watch. And then, and then …” I couldn’t finish talking.
“Addie calm down,” Jackson said, but his voice broke. He pulled me close. I could feel his arms shaking.
A million thoughts raced through my head. There was no way out. “They will kill you,” I stammered. “And then take it away from me.” My hand flew to my abdomen, and I suddenly felt very protective of the little life that was growing inside of me. I broke down in sobs.
Jackson scooped me up and carried me to the cot. He sat, keeping me in his lap. “No they won’t,” he told me, sounding like he actually believed it. “No one will find out.”
“Even if they don’t.” Tears quickly soaked the front of Jackson’s shirt. “Then what? I’ll be shipped off to Europe. I can’t hide being pregnant for long. And what will happen to the …” I couldn’t bring myself to say the word.
“Nothing will happen.” He put his hand over mine. “We’re getting out of here.”
“We’ve been saying that for the last two months,” I hoarsely reminded him. “And we’re still here.”
Jackson’s heart raced, his pulse thumping so hard I could feel it in his arms that held me together. He was trying hard to remain calm for my sake, and that made me feel even more emotional.
“I’ll think of something,” he promised. “I have to.
We
have to. You are right, Addie. They
will
kill me, and I don’t know what will happen to you.” He let out a shaky breath and squeezed me against him. “You can’t really be passed off as a born-again virgin anymore.”
“They’ll kill us both.”
Jackson bent his head down so that his cheek rested on mine. “I won’t let that happen.”
I nodded. I wanted to believe him so much it hurt. “What if someone notices before we leave?”
“They won’t. You don’t look pregnant.”
I gasped and pushed away from Jackson. “Yes, I do!” I put my hands on my cheeks. “My skin!”
“What?”
“Lily said my skin looked nice.” I was on the verge of panicking again.
Jackson raised an eyebrow. “That means you look pregnant?”
“The pregnancy glow!” I told him.
Jackson closed his eyes for a few seconds, steadying his nerves. “I honestly don’t think anyone will come to that conclusion.”
“How can you be sure?”
“I’m not,” he said nervously. “It’s what I want, though.”
“Me too.”
Jackson took the test out of my hand and inspected it. “Yeah … there is no mistaking that.”
“I know.”
He rested his head against mine, holding me tight. Neither of us spoke. I thought back, wondering how far along I could possibly be. I knew for certain that I wasn’t pregnant the time of the doctor visit.
“I’m so stupid.” I whispered. “I stopped taking birth control pills. I … I just didn’t think about it. And we only did it once since then. I didn’t think,” I stammered.
“You’re not stupid, not at all. Neither of us thought about it,” Jackson soothed. “We’re going to get through this. Alive. Both of us.” He smoothed my hair. “All three of us,” he added softly.
“I love you,” I whispered between sobs.
Jackson pressed a kiss on my forehead. “I love you too.”
The distant groan of the garage door opening hummed throughout the house. I sat up, moving off of Jackson. His arms lingered around my waist, not wanting to let me go. I wasn’t sure if I could function without him. I needed him to hold me, to tell me he loved me, and that we would be okay.
He stood, looked at the stairs, then down at the pregnancy test. He snapped it in half and quickly walked to the toilet. He broke into small pieces and dropped it in, flushing them away. I stuck my feet under the blanket and pulled it up over my head. Jackson picked up a book and sat at the card table, pretending to read.
It was horrible, lying in bed, acting like I was asleep. Lily and Rochelle moved about the basement, making small talk with each other while they freshened up for their next job. It would only be a matter of minutes before Zane came down to get them.
I had both hands over my stomach.
I’m so sorry
, I silently spoke to our unborn child.
I don’t want you to be born into this
. Tears streamed down my face, soaking my pillow. I bit my quivering lip.
If there is a way out of this, we will find it. I want you to have a good life.
I turned my face in, struggling not to cry.
The girls wouldn’t think much of me crying. I had done a lot of it. I knew it would kill Jackson to hear me cry and not be able to comfort me. A twist of nausea gripped me. I flipped over and peered under the blanket at Jackson.
He sat at the table, holding the book close to his face. At a glance, he appeared calm and collected, but if any of the girls stopped to watch him, they would notice he was bouncing his leg and flipping through the pages of his book way faster than anyone could read.
I closed my eyes, and the stupid vision of the dining room flashed through my head. Though this time a highchair was added to the table.
Don’t cry
. My chest tightened.
Don’t cry.
I yelled it in my
head.
Don’t cry, don’t cry.
Fuck.
I pulled the pillow around my face trying to muffle the sobs. I curled my legs up to my chest and tried to take a deep breath.
“I miss her too,” Lily said.
I sniffled and nodded, knowing she couldn’t see me under the blanket. Thinking of Phoebe sent an instant stab of pain to my heart.
It also gave me the strength to find my composure. I sat up, wiped my eyes and nodded again so that Lily could see.
“I don’t believe in God,” she said and picked up the curling iron. “But I still think she’s in a better place.”
“Anywhere is better than here,” I mumbled, still struggling to keep my voice level.
Lily bit her lip and looked down, not wanting to agree with me when Rochelle was right next to her. She picked up a loose curl and wrapped it around the hot iron.
“Ah!” she said and jerked her hand away. She stuck her index finger in her mouth. “Son of a bitch, I burned myself.”
“How bad?” I asked.
Lily held out her finger. “Not too bad. Enough to hurt like hell though.”
“You’ll live,” Rochelle told her and leaned close to the mirror. She reached inside her bra and pulled her breasts up, making them look even larger. “Almost ready?”
“Yeah,” she answered. “How do the curls look in the back?”
Rochelle stepped behind her and took the curling iron. “You have it set too high. You’re gonna scorch your hair.” I watched her turn down the dial and fix a few more curls before misting Lily’s head with so much hair spray I could taste it from across the room. I felt even more nauseous.
The girls put their high heels back on and sat on their cots, waiting for Zane. My eyes flicked to the curling iron. Rochelle had left it plugged in. I opened my mouth to tell her she was going to get us killed when a plan came to me.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
IT TOOK ALL I had not to throw the covers back and race over to Jackson. I stopped by the vanity first, surreptitiously turning the dial on the curling iron up as far as it could go. I filled a cup with water from the shower and sat at the card table across from Jackson. I picked a book up from the stack in the center and flipped through it.
“I have a plan,” I murmured. Jackson flicked his eyes up for a millisecond. “Well, part of one.”
Jackson nodded and stood, leaning over the table as he sorted through the books. It appeared that he was looking for something new to read. I quickly whispered my plan.
“It’ll work.” He sat down, opening a book. He didn’t realize it was upside down. “And if Zane doesn’t come down today, he will eventually.” He absent-mindedly flipped the page. “You should get ready just in case.”
My hands began to tremble. I placed them on the table and pushed myself up. My heart thumped in my chest, and I took short, shallow breaths. I went to the vanity and ran a brush through my hair, watching the girls in the mirror.
Lily was picking at her nail polish. Rochelle sat perfectly still, perched on the edge of the cot, looking beautiful and bored.
I flipped my head upside down and raked it into a ponytail. Then I went to the dresser and pulled out a pair of black leggings, trading them for the baggy pajama pants I was wearing. I looked over the shoes next. There weren’t any in my size that didn’t have heels. Going with a pair of brown boots with a wide, two-inch heel, I snatched them and sat on the cot.
Rochelle was watching me. I could feel her eyes on me as I zipped up the boots, yanking it over the ankle bracelet. My hands started shaking uncontrollably, and the smell of melting plastic permeated the air. Sweat beaded at my forehead.
I forced myself to lie back against the pillow.
I heard the metal folding chair scrape against the basement floor when Jackson stood. He walked over to his cot and put his shoes on. My stomach churned, nerves increasing the nausea three fold. I started counting, imagining Jackson pulling a sweatshirt over his head. I could feel his body heat when he walked over, then I felt the cot sink down.