My brain is screaming. This is the same guy who threw me on the ground. I have to protect my baby from this guy.
“Then answer me, bitch,” he hisses in my face. “Is this the prince’s baby?”
Oh, god, I mentally pray before nodding slowly. His grip tightens and the scariest, most evil smile spreads across his face. Tears spring to my eyes, I’m so afraid. He returns to speaking on the phone, but his terrifying eyes are still on me.
Disconnecting, he takes my arm again and drags me to the side of our cinderblock house. It’s the white wall with nothing on it. Reaching in his back pocket he pulls out a newspaper.
“Hold this up,” he orders.
I look at the cover. The date is July 5, and for a moment I think of home, America, grilling and fireworks on the fourth of July. I didn’t even know what day it was. A large hand reaches to the nape of my neck and jerks my hair.
“I said hold it up!” Blix is glaring at me, and I turn the USA Today around and hold it just under my chin.
His phone clicks several times and then he snatches it back. I don’t even get to look at the headlines. My mind is thinking one word: Cal. I need to see him. I want to tell him about the baby. I don’t want him to find out this way.
Blix goes to his truck and digs around in the cab before returning with a small Coke bottle. “Pee in this,” he says, shoving it at me.
I hold the dirty bottle out and look at it. “Should I wash it first?”
“No,” he says. “Piss in that bottle so I can get the hell out of here.”
Despair fills my chest. As much as I hate Blix, his awful presence is at least evidence the outside world still exists. People are out there asking about me. Cal is still searching for me. The thought floods tears in my eyes. If only there were some way to send him a message. I miss him so much. Every night I dream about his arms, and every day I long for his touch. When I’m feeling very low, I fear I’ll never see him again.
Taking the dirty bottle, I go around the corner and pull up the cloth dress. It’s difficult but I manage to get an inch of urine in that small bottle. When I give it to Blix, he uses a napkin to hold it as if it’s covered in germs.
Without a word, he goes to his truck and leaves. I’m standing in the courtyard watching him go with only Ximena by my side holding my hand.
20
A Message
Cal
The G650 is waiting when I arrive at the airport. Logan has texted he’s onboard and in the cockpit chatting with our pilot. Hajib lets me out at the tarmac, and just before I go, he touches my shoulder.
“Good luck
, sir.”
I cover his thick hand with mine and give it a firm squeeze. “Thanks, Hajib.”
“No Odd Job?” he says with a smile.
“Reggie suggested we might be offending you with our old nickname.” I say, feeling the need to send good Karma ahead of me.
“It always made me laugh, sir. No offense taken.”
Pressing my lips into a smile, I nod. “I’m glad to hear it. We never meant any harm.”
“I’ll be glad to see Miss Wilder again.”
My stomach tightens. Anxiety has become my constant companion. “Me, too.”
With a fortifying breath, I jog across the space separating the town car from the gleaming silver private jet and up the short flight of stairs. Our flight attendant is waiting when I arrive.
“We’re all onboard, your majesty,” she says. “As soon as you choose a seat we’ll prepare to leave.”
“Thanks,” I say, ducking inside the aircraft and planning to sit in the first open spot.