Deadly Expectations: The Chronicles of Anna, #1

DEADLY EXPECTATIONS

By Elizabeth Munro

The Chronicles of Anna

Book 1

Copyright © 2011 by Elizabeth Munro

Edited by M. Edward Munro

All Rights Reserved

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, distributed, or stored in any form without the author’s written permission.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, incidents and dialogue are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons living or deceased is entirely coincidental.

Blue Swell Books

Nanaimo, B.C.

Canada

First eBook Edition: November 2011

ISBN: 978-0-9878335-0-1

Visit www.deadlyexpectations.com

Anna - Chapter 1

Anna? Where the hell are you?

Alina. Her recorded voice said I was in trouble.

Only a month had passed since Paul’s last message. Who knew how many times we shot the same motorcycle rallies without crossing paths. He photographed two page spreads of models on custom cruisers and I captured lifestyle pieces about lawyers on two wheels. Once we found each other it only took a few nights to scare him off.

Paul left something behind one of those nights. Which night didn’t matter. Certainty waited in a little box.

You know what day it is, her tone didn’t lose any firmness as it came from the little speaker. Call Dad. I did. Don’t screw it up again. I don’t care how late—

Stop.

Easy for her to call him up from half way across the country to say she loved him and missed mother, too. It was three hours later in Toronto than on Vancouver Island so he wouldn’t keep her on the phone. I had no excuse for avoiding him. Dad lived three blocks away.

I dialled. It was only nine and he’d still be up.

John Creed.

Dad? It’s Anna.

Hey, what’s up, kid? He did a poor job of making it sound like a phone call from me wasn’t a big deal.

I...

Take your time, Sweetie.

I want wontons, Dad. They’d been Mom’s favourite.

That place up the road still in business?

Yeah, I answered. I was a regular there. He hadn’t set foot in the door without her.

Pick you up in ten?

’kay.

I pulled a knit hat over my long blonde hair to keep the heat in. At least it wasn’t raining. It had been ten years earlier when Dad took his inconsolable daughters to the lone car at the far end of the hospital parking lot. In spite of cold drops washing tears from my face I remembered the taste of salt.

The street light at the end of my empty driveway lit the air I exhaled. It wasn’t cold for the first week of October but it was humid. The figure of my father on foot approached from the south. I went to meet him.

Is something wrong with your truck? I asked as he gave me an awkward hug.

Mm mm. I only use it for work now.

We walked past my house then a block over before crossing the road to the Chinese food place.

It hasn’t changed a bit, he commented as we took our seats. Like dinner in a jewel box Mom used to say. Gold and red lanterns hung everywhere, some waving their tassels as they caught the breeze from the ceiling fan. Dark carved wood and bold wallpaper decorated every surface. A candle in a plastic mesh covered red glass holder flickered in the middle of our table.

Neither have you, I replied. You look good.

That got a smile. He was still trim in spite of having an appetite like mine.

You want a beer or something?

I thought briefly about Paul and the lifestyle change I had coming. I don’t drink much these days.

You’re a good kid, Anna.

So are you, Dad.

He and Mom were eighteen when Alina came along. Me less than a year later. She ran a daycare to make ends meet while he got his electrician’s ticket. He was a smart hard working man and within a few years had a crew of a dozen and Mom stopped replacing kids as they left. He was forty-four now; a year closer to Paul in age than me.

I thought this would be harder, you know, he said as he pushed his flat bottomed spoon around the fat wontons and singled out a piece of pork. We spent as much here as the whole rest of the food bill. I’m glad you and Alina got her good looks. My Allison was such a pretty little thing. You were already taller than her when she passed. Never expected you two to shoot up like weeds.

I nodded and wiped my cheek.

Nearly caught up to you, I laughed. He was six foot one.

In town long this time?

Mm mm, I shook my head. My mouth held a whole wonton. Ride out tomorrow. A month, maybe six weeks. Got a couple of big magazine shoots booked in California. Then I’m going east through to Florida for another job.

Still single?

Yeah, Dad, I dropped my eyes as I felt my cheeks warm. Boys can’t catch me when all they see is my tailpipe disappearing into the sunset.

Suppose not. Sorry to pry.

You’re not, I sighed. Some days I really need her. If I ever have kids I want to be just like her.

I think we both know exactly how much that would please her, Sweetie.

Dad refolded his paper napkin and wiped his eyes.

I held his elbow all the way to my house. He didn’t seem to mind and hugged me a little less awkwardly at my door. I locked up then watched the headlines run past until exhaustion took hold.

Sleep found me with my legs shoved under the laundry pile with which I shared my bed.

*****

I expected to have my eyes closed until well past noon. Instead I found myself looking at the dark ceiling just as tired as when I turned in. There was nothing but the steady sound of my breathing for a minute as I drifted off.

A loud thump drove out any sleepiness I had left.

Damn it. Bitch!

The rattle of my uncooperative door knob accentuated his swearing.

I grabbed for a blanket then went for my dresser since the blanket would only wrap around my legs and trip me. Top drawer. Gun. Bottom drawer. Rounds.

The crash of dishes on the floor accompanied the heavy thud of my table going over. Fighting the urge to bolt to the bathroom and do something about the looseness in my stomach, I neared the kitchen to see the open window. My toppled table pinned a chair to the wall.

What the hell? the angry voice said.

Another step and I could see a man struggling with the door. He stood half a foot taller, dirty blonde hair down to his shoulders. The dent in his forehead matched the edge of the counter and blood ran freely from the wound to my floor.

The gun went up; elbows locked. My instructor’s words echoed in my ears as his phantom hand rested on my hip. "I’m not letting you leave until you hit something."

The intruder froze as he took in the gun then with a low growl, he charged. I fumbled, unable to find the trigger as he grabbed my wrists in one hand and pushed me into the hall. He was rough and I was too off balance to fight. Crushing my wrist, he got me against the arm of the couch and it only took a second to force the gun from my hand.

Then face down on the sofa with nothing but my panties between me and his zipper. With the cushions muffling my cries, I felt him grab for his belt.

Why you do that? he seethed. My empty gun hand twisted up between my shoulders. The other lay trapped under my stomach. Then his knees came up, sinking into the couch and knocking mine apart. Why, bitch? Why you pull a gun on me?

East coast? Not Canada east coast either. His breath stunk of booze and stale tobacco and I watched a lazy drop of his blood hit the back of my sofa. With his full weight on my shoulders, I heard his buckle open.

Hey!

Thank God, help.

What the fuck are you doing?

Get out of there, man, another voice insisted. We got what we need.

From the kitchen window they had a good view of at least half of what was happening on my sofa.

And his damn buddies were better than no help at all.

Take it easy, the would-be rapist muttered as his weight came off.

The ceiling spun past as I landed on the floor and crawled into the end table just in time to see him get to my door. In a short second he had it open and was gone.

I pulled in a few weak breaths as I picked up the phone and pushed in Paul’s number. Just past the area code I broke down. My gun sat beside me; the trigger guard still in place.

Paul wouldn’t come. Maybe a couple of months ago he’d be my first call but not tonight. A few one night stands didn’t make him responsible for running to my rescue. Not even maybe getting me pregnant. Until I was sure about that I wouldn’t call him from three states and a whole other country away.

I pressed my palms together to make them stop shaking and decided there was nobody I trusted to look after Anna Creed but Anna Creed.

Just like old times, I whispered as I called nine-one-one.

*****

Sun exposed the burglar’s blood on my kitchen floor. My upstairs tenant, Mrs. Desmond, had been moving around for over an hour. As the coffee machine grumbled and spat, I took the little box from the drugstore to the bathroom.

I had the rest of the night to think about exactly how late I was and figured I was the last time I saw Paul. Just like me to lose track of time. I picked up the test stick and looked at the two blue lines.

Then I double checked the instructions.

They said think about finding Paul because he never did anything to hurt you. Then figure out how you’re going to pack a baby on a motorcycle as you float around until you have nowhere to go and have to come home. Think about getting a car and a real job and doing it alone because you won’t let anyone close enough to help. Think about it, Anna.

The instructions were right.

Mrs. Desmond let herself in as I returned to the kitchen. She was armed with a plate of cookies and the Nanaimo newspaper as she stepped over the blood spots on my floor.

Good morning, Mrs. Desmond. I kissed her cheek. I’m so sorry you were disturbed last night.

If he’d gotten into my house he’d have been just as sorry, she shook her head as she looked at the blood.

Yes. I remembered her choice of words with the policeman who insisted on checking her.

I put the kettle on for her tea as I started on a cookie and she scrubbed up the mess at my front door. Something was missing from the sill; a small picture of my sister Alina and me in a little frog shaped frame, our heads centred in his spotted back. I couldn’t imagine the bastard taking it but there it was.

Gone.

We chatted as I ate and she read the paper then I made a few phone calls to cancel the work I had booked. Every time I went in the bathroom the test was there on the counter reminding me I wasn’t alone any more.

As night grew close, the urge to run from my intruder and the stick on the counter became too much so I packed for a couple of days and hit the road.

Chapter 2

There’s nothing like a full tank of gas and nowhere to go.

When I wandered beyond Vancouver Island, my route took me through the submerged Discovery Tunnel and its thirty-six kilometre long plunge through the cold waters of the Strait of Georgia. Its completion two years ago simplified my ability to get around. Rather than use my secret travel to jump to somewhere near Vancouver and a ferry ride home the completed roadway let me jump all the way there.

My disoriented arrival would occur precisely when I left so I used to think it was teleportation. As I became bolder with jumping and the distances grew it became clear a lot more was going on. My motorcycle showed every kilometre and my back and wrists complained about riding the whole distance. I figured it wasn’t teleportation after all. I rode, arrived and travelled back in time with a blackout thrown in for good measure since I didn’t remember a damn thing.

And then an unavoidable eighteen hour coma.

‘Jumping’ was my secret. I never told a soul, even my sister. Alina never believed in any of the usual childhood things I loved: Santa, the Easter Bunny and Ichabod Crane. For me there were real monsters under the bed, recurring dreams of my neighbourhood in flames and dialogue with my bossy reflection in the mirror. Alina had Nova, Untold Stories of the E.R. and a shelf full of second hand textbooks she bought at the Salvation Army.

Our mother’s death left me with burning dreams and my bitter reflection and Alina lost herself in the physical stability of the real world.

The woman in the mirror showed up irregularly to give me some distasteful way of avoiding a future fuckup. And now my last secret, one I couldn’t avoid or keep quiet, occupied my thoughts.

I was pregnant by a man I barely knew and was less certain how to find.

Paul only said he lived in Northern California. I mustered the nerve to call him once after he broke it off and a pleasant American voice told me his number was out of service.

But tonight’s trip wasn’t about wandering. No matter how hard I tried to soak in denial my life had direction and my first stop had to be Paul. He’d moved on, his message said, but from me and not from his child.

I knew Paul didn’t want me. My middle of the night ‘episode’ our last night wrapped things up better than anything I could have done on purpose. I needed to tell him about the baby. I didn’t expect to set up house with him. I’d tell him that. I also didn’t want him to hold back with his kid because another man was hanging around. I’d tell him that, too. Not that there’d ever been anyone but Paul Richards.

As I paid the toll, three other motorcycles pulled in behind, their headlights filling my mirrors. The steep twenty-eight dollar cost didn’t stop riders from either the Island or the Lower Mainland from making the crossing to see some new stretches of highway.

Four toll lanes merged into two before sinking left into the artificially lit cavern. I pulled out as I nudged up my visor. In the tight confines of the tunnel a spill could put me into the cement walls if I got caught between two cars and had no place to go.

As I sped up, the flash of yellow lighting intensified the roll of my tires on the road. Every reflective surface shone against the regularly spaced lights strobing with a tangible pressure as I changed lanes around a dusty reefer truck. The riders who followed me through the toll booths changed as well, taking station in my wake like we rode together. I didn’t like the idea of being obligated into small talk or politely putting up with their pickup lines at the next traffic stop but I liked the idea of weaving between the crowded lanes to get ahead of them even less.

Half way through the tunnel I took advantage of a small break in traffic to get over into the slow lane. I dropped a gear, let the transmission slow me below the speed limit and watched the three headlights in my mirrors. Rather than pass, they fit in behind and squeezed in too close considering the gap was only safe for one. Another check of my mirror showed the cars in the fast lane weren’t going to let me in for a while but all I needed was a small break to get my privacy back.

I felt the pressure of engines on either side and instinctively moved to the very centre of the lane. Two of the riders squeezed past with just inches of air between my bike and theirs.

Assinine.

If they said anything at the next light one of them would get the mini tire iron in my tank bag right in the headlight; maybe even in the helmet depending how much time I had to cool off. The third remained behind as his friends paired up in front which seemed a lot safer than three abreast though just as dangerous.

As if they knew I planned escape, the one ahead to my left dropped back so I couldn’t change lanes without hitting his rear tire. So much unwelcome male sped up my heart and I felt pinched like the night before between the burglar and my sofa. In response, I moved closer to the shoulder and the guy up front backed off.

These three guys had no reason to herd a lone woman rider. Normal men wouldn’t do that. If I stopped overreacting I’d figure it out. I’d be through the tunnel and riding the highways of Washington State in a couple of hours.

Paul, Paul, Paul pressed into my skin with the throb of the passing lights and the pounding of my heart, each beat closer to the exit and the freeway.

The lighting changed from yellow to more widely spaced white indicating we were a kilometre from the exit then with a subtle pop there was black sky above and regular street lights.

Once the highway widened to three lanes, the other riders took advantage of the space and took off a couple of hundred yards ahead though they kept to my lane. Fine with me. I moved over two lanes to the left to pass but they swerved through traffic to stay in front.

I thought with some space between us I’d feel safe and alone but I didn’t. Not like the night before when the break-in was over and big girl Anna could pretend she ran the burglar off herself; more like the night I met Paul when he casually walked me past the door to my room and hid me around the corner. He noticed a man in the parking lot. With his frozen attention on us in a wash of moving motorcycles and leather clad bikers the threat in his stare couldn’t have stood out more if he waved a gun.

Paul knew the guy and said he was trouble. I worked under an assumed name and Paul worried about the damage to us both if word got out that he and his competition were cozy in her hotel room. Now with three men stalking me I wanted Paul, his body tight over mine against the wall of my noisy Rivertown motel.

I knew him now, too. The man in my house had been the same one in the parking lot. Longer hair and blood covering his face no longer disguised him. So far away in distance and time it took a repeat of the feelings to make the connection. Paul and I hadn’t been as discrete as we thought. Nearly forgetting about the three in front, I tried to calm down as fear from the night before ebbed and my arms grew heavy with fading adrenaline.

As I got my bearings the three dropped back, one rider rolled off the throttle to swing into my path. I did the same, moving to the centre line to avoid rear ending him. My horn whined a warning and he got back in position. Granted a small break in the heavy truck traffic to my right, I made a dangerous double lane switch between two big rigs and into the very right hand lane.

I glanced at the glowing green Peace Arch exit sign and fixated enough looking for the exit lane to open up I nearly rode into the rear ends of my three pursuers. They’d passed the trucks ahead and dropped back.

In unison we exited though they kept me pinned to the shoulder and once clear of the interchange the only light around us came from our rides.

Next the rider two ahead, the other one on my side of the lane, dropped back sliding past the one who tried to hit me the first time. I swerved out of his way. He matched my speed and pushed in dangerously close.

Fuck this, I thought. I knew the roads and even in the dark I’d lose them. Taking a chance they left me enough room to get out I snapped my wrist down and pulled into the other lane as they did the same, the lead rider swung out blocking my way. Then the other two pulled next to him so I couldn’t get around. I slowed right down and dropped behind as they got in position out front.

One of the men dropped back quicker than I could slow down and get some distance.

Take it easy, he yelled. His voice chilled me. Too scared to brake and turn around or do any more than hold the throttle still, I kept rolling as the burglar pulled ahead.

Paul was right; the man was trouble the night we met, in my house and now on the highway.

I made up my mind to make it to Paul as the lead bike went down. We were maybe doing sixty kilometres an hour and the feel of gravel under my tires told me why he’d lost control. The other two bikes’ tail lights brightened and I feathered my brakes to stop as hard as I could without skidding.

The rider up front slid under his bike as the other two went down on top of him. I still had enough control to get over by a wooden building. I heard a shout, then another as I stopped and crouched behind by bike. My helmet came off as did my pack so I could run when I decided which way to go.

I couldn’t remember which dirt road we’d turned on but there should be nothing: no dirt, no unlit exits, just cement barriers all the way to the U.S. border.

Bodies brawled; more men than the three riders in the lights pointing every which way. Then a gunshot so I ran about thirty feet and found an alley.

There. Down that way, a man yelled as I bolted into the blackness, someone close behind. He didn’t slow as he hit and the ground flew up to meet me. His full weight came down, forcing the air from my lungs as my shoulder slid out of place and my chest flexed. My scream added to the shouts.

A knife flashed in the moonlight above then his crushing weight was gone. The sun leaned toward the horizon illuminating icy silence. I lay alone on the cold ground between two wooden buildings. Daylight. The sun replaced the moon and I wasn’t sure if I’d been there all night or if I had yet to even leave home. How far back in time could I have gone? My right eye swelled and as I looked up at the walls and sky above me I realized somewhere after the terrifying ride and attack in the alley I jumped. Slipped away in time to escape the falling blade.

Paul - Chapter 3

Pain woke me. Smooth sheets pressed against my skin as I stretched my bare legs. Hunger and building irritability indicated I’d slept off the jump to avoid the knife. I heard voices far away and assumed with great relief I was safe in the hospital.

Until someone else’s weight shifted on the bed. I held my breath as I woke completely; eyes alert beneath my closed lids.

The movement stopped and gentle fingers touched my cheek. Rough, hard working skin brushed mine with the lightness of a child’s. Breathing; close. I tensed and opened my eyes.

Jesus Christ, I gasped.

Familiar deep green eyes, dark hair which would go curly if he let it grow. His nose had taken a couple of rights. We were only ever the same height in bed otherwise he stood five inches taller. I remembered the taste of his lips the first time he slept with a woman when it was her first time just a couple of months before...

No, he smiled. It’s Paul.

Why am I in the hospital? I asked. My voice rose since I wasn’t entirely sure where I was. I caught a glimpse of the tip of his tongue before he moved closer to peer into my eyes.

You’re in my room, he said, his levity gone.

You’re in the hospital? I noticed the I.V. in my hand but the dark panelling, heavy curtains and mismatched bedding screamed man room.

You’re in my house, in my room, in my bed.

I, I blinked. Where?

My house, he repeated.

California? The bed smelled of him, so close like he’d never left me. This place was his.

About an hour out of Redding, he confirmed. Ray?

She’s gonna kill me, I said. Paul’s new woman would have my head when she found me in his bed. I’d do the same in her place. And how in hell did I get to California? The only explanation was I’d done it myself. Desperate for Paul, I brought myself here when I needed him; a twelve-hundred kilometre jump without even trying.

And I caused him trouble. I felt as helpless as when I was pinned to my sofa or trapped on the highway with three strangers. Damn it. I’m so sorry.

Paul? I turned as much as my sore ribs would let me. The man had short hair like Paul’s, a little longer on top. Warm face. Hey, Kiddo. Good to see you awake. How are you feeling?

He sounded nice but I turned to Paul as I slipped a hand over my mouth to hide my panic. Paul studied me for a second; my eyes, my hand. Sugar, what do you remember?

Dear God, I fell for him if I’d ever stopped. In spite of the awkward situation coming with his new girlfriend I calmed, trusting the safety I felt near him. It didn’t mean I would breathe a word about how I found him.

I got chased down an alley, I said. He took me down. I passed out.

Something flashed on his face as he glanced at Ray so I tried to explain.

"Three men stalked me on the highway. Then we hit a dirt road and they went down. I ran. There was fighting. I got chased.

On the seventh of October. I had dinner with my Dad the night before, I closed my eyes as I pictured my father with me in the Chinese food place up the street. It was ten years since my mother passed and we had wontons.

That was two days ago. Paul moved closer. Do you remember we found you here in the compound? Ray relocated your shoulder.

I shook my head.

That’s okay, Ray said. You got a bump on the head. It seems to be a bad concussion. No sign of anything more serious.

Who is that Paul? You hear him too right? I asked.

Yes, he answered.

I’m Doctor Jackson. Paul’s been a pain in my side for years. Call me Ray.

Hi, Ray. I rolled closer to Paul. I only made it part way, groaning with pain as my mouth watered with nausea. It’s Anna.

Are you finished refusing pain meds? Ray asked.

I didn’t know what was safe for the baby so I shook my head and pressed my lips shut. Paul sighed. He didn’t seem very happy about it.

I need to get to the bathroom, I said. Pain wasn’t the only discomfort I had. They got me to the door at the other end of the big room. I grabbed the I.V. bag from Ray and shut the door behind me. It took a minute to catch my breath but there was no way I wanted help even from a doctor and someone familiar with the lay of the land.

I wore nothing more than panties and a blue and white plaid pyjama shirt which may have been Paul’s. One eye stood out, swollen and bruised, but none of my teeth felt loose. My toiletry bag perched by the sink so I freshened up as best I could.

By the time I lay down I felt clammy if not visibly shaking. I shook hard on the inside.

Are you sure nothing for pain? Paul asked. He pushed my hair back and unstuck some from my forehead.

I nodded. It’s not that bad.

I’ll be downstairs, Paul, Ray said. It appears I’m not needed.

He actually sounded hurt.

I know where to find you, Paul replied. He put his hand on Ray’s shoulder and closed the door behind him. Then he lifted the blanket and eased me to my side before curling up behind, pushing my protesting elbow aside. His fingers went to my hip, tips reaching under the elastic of my panties as he slid his hand around to my stomach.

Do you know you’re pregnant?

I nodded as I started to cry. He shouldn’t be the one telling me. Paul’s nose went to my neck. It’s mine, he breathed.

Yes, I whispered, quickly giving in despite how much it hurt. I relaxed my shoulder as he pulled the oversized shirt aside so he could nibble at my skin.

Stop. I shook my head clear. My hand had slipped between us and I pulled it away.

Why? Paul paused.

You broke it off for someone else, I said. Now we’re in your bed. She’s gonna kill me. You were so distracted that last morning then you dumped me with a message you were moving on. I don’t know the name for what we were but it’s important enough I’m having a hard time getting past it. I just needed to tell you about the baby. You don’t have to want me. There’s room for you with your child. As much as you want.

Oh, Sugar, he whispered as he covered my shoulder up. We need to talk. There isn’t anyone else. There never was so relax. I’m sorry I left you with that.

I nodded, though I had more questions than answers. He’d left the cold, blunt words ‘Sorry. Anna. I’m moving on’ on my machine.

Ray has pain meds that are safe for you and the baby and I’m going to be sick if I have to watch you hurt any more. Trust me?

Yes, I answered and grimaced as I tried to take a deep breath. I trusted him as much as my sister and my father. Even more since I told Paul about my family but I never told them about him.

Not really allergic to anything? he asked, for some reason emphasizing the word ’really.’

I’ve never taken anything stronger than what you can buy at the grocery store.

Okay, sit tight.

By the time he brought Ray I recovered from the stabbing pain I felt rolling over. Ray pulled the cap off a needle and shot something in the line.

Just a taste. As long as you have no trouble breathing I can give you more.

Okay,

I’d like to check you out, if that’s alright, Ray said. Paul nodded.

Alright, Ray.

He started with a little flashlight in my eyes then his fingers reached for my bruised cheek and he paused. I like my fucking eyes where they are, if you don’t mind.

Oh, shit, I felt my cheeks colour. I didn’t.

You did, Ray said.

I’ll keep my hands to myself. I’m sorry.

Ray hesitated a little longer than necessary before he started pressing around the bruise then he moved on to my neck.

I’m sorry, I said again. This isn’t the first time I woke up with a headache and a black eye to hear I wasn’t nice.

Didn’t think so, Ray deadpanned. You did it like a pro. He looked at Paul who tried not to laugh. But I’ve been thanked by bigger boys than you. What happened last time?

He slid a hand under my back to feel around my shoulder. It felt a lot better than when I passed out in the alley.

I woke up with my father standing in my bedroom door with the home number for a policeman I had to call with an apology. I guess I felt the need to descriptively... ouch... question his parentage after he was kind enough to pull me out of a fight at a house party and drive me home. Ray had his hand on my ribs.

They didn’t toss you in the tank?

Not when you’re fifteen.

Ray shook his head as he put more medicine in the line. I think this will help with the headache. Alright, tummy.

I pulled the shirt up and he started under my ribs and worked his way down. Tender? No bleeding?

I shook my head for both.

No getting out of bed and no romance for at least a week please until we’re sure the baby is in the clear. Yell for me if you even think there’s a problem. Okay, Kiddo?

Whee, I said, not really sure I still had contact with the mattress.

Better, Paul? Ray asked. You passed out when I fixed your shoulder so I took blood because my uncooperative patient couldn’t tell me what’s the matter. Paul sent one of the guys to Redding to drop it off at Shasta for me. That’s how we learned about the pregnancy, got the blood work back a little while ago.

Uh huh. My head swam as the pain faded. Thanks for being sneaky.

You’re welcome. Paul, when you come down we need to talk about who’s paying my bill.

Paul lay down next to me after Ray left. I watched both of him circle for a moment until my eyes worked together.

You were pretty mad at me when we brought you in the other night, he said. Do you feel up to talking about it?

As long as I didn’t have to explain how I landed in Paul’s yard I’d talk about whatever he wanted. What did I say?

You made what you said to Ray sound impossibly polite.

I took a deep breath and thought about it.

Sorry, Paul. Whatever I said you didn’t deserve. You had your reasons. You weren’t trying to hurt me.

And?

You dumped me with a five word message. You changed your number. I’ve felt more for you every day since then, not less. You could have said ‘call me when you get in,’ you could have said the sex didn’t make up for when I hid under the desk. You were in it for the fun and you’re too busy for some psycho who’s turned into work and—

His mouth cut me off. He dug his elbow into the bed and pushed himself up, catching my lips and turning my building anger into desire. Desire as detached as the pain so there was no way I could use it even if Ray hadn’t told me to look after the baby first. He withdrew, taking my bottom lip with him and I followed until my ribs told me far enough.

How do you do that? I’m trying to be mad and you make the room spin, I muttered as I closed my eyes and waited for it to stop. Paul laughed and dropped his head to the other pillow. Then he returned, hovering just above. I didn’t even try to focus.

Sugar, he sighed and brushed my cheek with his. I got a call in the middle of the night from my C.O. I had fifteen minutes to shake four guys out of bed and into a truck. I was running down the road banging on cabin doors when I called to tell you I was shipping out. My phone’s been working for a week since I got back. C.O. shuts them down when we’re in the field.

You said ‘sorry Anna I’m moving on.’ That’s all you told me.

Shit, yeah. His nose found its way behind my ear, right where he knew I liked it. I could have been gone for months. I thought it was a kinder way to leave you than nobody here knowing to call you if there was bad news. I was going to call you in a few days. I needed some time to adjust to being back.

I nodded and brought a hand up to wipe my eyes.

I’m sorry, Anna. I left you hurting and alone. I promise it won’t happen again. If we decide we don’t want each other we’ll both know why. Okay?

Yeah, okay.

Paul rested his head on my shoulder and I got a hand up to his chin. He was too close to see clearly so I turned and kissed his forehead as I felt the stubbly line of his jaw.

I had a really bad night before I came here. I’ve never felt so alone.

What happened, Sugar?

I turned away, feeling weak for failing to look after myself.

I had a break-in. The kid from the parking lot where we met was in my house. He was one of the men chasing me on the highway.

Is that why you had a gun?

I didn’t. Wait. Must have been doing too many things at once and stuffed it in my bag. I don’t know why I bought it. I can’t hit a thing.

Paul laughed.

Can Ray call my sister? Dr. Alina Creed; she’s in my phone. Talk doctor to her and say I had an accident?

Yeah, sleep now. We’ll keep an eye on you. You’re safe here.

Chapter 4

Anna? Wake up, Kiddo.

Someone shook my arm and not lightly to see if I was already awake. He wanted me up. It was the third day I remembered at Paul’s house.

Ray? Morning.

Not yet. I need to take some blood for a couple of prenatal tests. I’ll drop it off in town. Did Paul tell you? Ray asked.

Guess he forgot. I realized I was alone in the bed. Is he going with you?

No. He’s gone for a run. Anyway, if you give me the name of your doctor I’ll make sure he gets a copy of the results.

Okay, go ahead but I don’t have a doctor.

No doctor?

Haven’t needed one since I was thirteen. I guess you’re my doctor now.

The I.V. hadn’t bothered me but the prospect of seeing my blood did.

Without seeing a doctor from time to time I had no idea I’m squeamish.

Ray took my arm. Why don’t you close your eyes and tell me about the last time you needed a doctor? I’ll make it quick. I promise.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. Kenny next door was teaching me to ride his big brother’s dirt bike in the empty lot by our houses. He was two years older and we’d taken it without asking. I had Kenny on the back. It was a huge two-stroke 650, the wrong bike to be learning on anyway. It worked pretty well for a while but then he put his hand up my shirt and helped himself to a squeeze.

Ray pressed a cotton ball into the crook of my arm so I opened my eyes.

I let go of the handle bars and swung my elbow around as hard as I could, got lucky and broke his collar bone. The bike went down and he broke his wrist. Other than some gravel in my skin I was okay but we did some damage to the dirt bike.

He opened a small band aid. You want a smiley face on it?

Sure, I smiled. He got out a pen.

Is Kenny still a friend? Ray asked.

No, I snapped as my mood soured.

Ray thought a moment. You didn’t dump his bike, too. Did you? Do you want to tell me about it?

Maybe another time. I’ve poked an old wound.

Ray felt like someone I could confide in so I decided to tell him.

"Sorry, Ray. It’s not your fault. Kenny was my best friend. When I was sixteen I went to his house for dinner. We’d trucked dirt bikes up Mount Benson and raced each other down the logging roads all afternoon. I was starving so I took him up on it.

"He thought of himself as my boyfriend and I guess I should have put a stop to it sooner but I didn’t. He kissed me then he said he wanted me to make him a man. It sounded so corny I said yes. I couldn’t believe guys actually said that shit. I don’t know what I was thinking. Maybe I was feeling grown up at sixteen; maybe I just didn’t care.

"Anyway, he finished before he got within a foot of me. He was so embarrassed. I mean, you expect a short fuse like that at sixteen, but at eighteen he should have some self control. He begged me not to tell anyone and for another chance. I said sure Kenny but his parents pulled in so I ran out the back.

"I didn’t tell but Kenny did. The next time we got together with his friends he told them all Anna wanted was more and if any of them wanted to help keep up with my needs he’d set it up. I’d been one of the guys until then. I thought they were my friends.

Mrs. Kenny gave him two kids before she took off with them to Nova Scotia and he put on forty pounds. I feel strangely good about that.

An attempt to get as far away from Kenny as possible triggered my first jump. I found myself staring into the sunset five hours away in Port Hardy. The last things I remembered were being so upset I was all over the road and wishing with all my heart to be as far away from him as possible. Without the