“What is this, a prison?” I laugh nervously.
The starushka narrows her eyes on me. She has been the closest thing to a mother my entire life. Which is saying very little. Every woman at the mansion does as they are told; there is very little gossip or chatter.
Tonight, I hope to find sympathy with this woman who has watched my belly grow so large over the last eight months.
“Not a prison, child. You want a prison, you can have one.”
“I don’t want a prison, Latvia. I want to....”
“Leave?” she supplies the word I couldn’t find.
I nod, the kitchen is dark, but my heart spreads with warmth. I should have confided in Latvia months ago about my plans to leave.
“I have to go, Latvia, for the babies.”
She nods, tears in her eyes. “Go, child. Go, and never look back.”
“I’m going back to the Idaho forest, to find the babies father. Maybe he can help –”
“Shhh,” Latvia says harshly. “Don’t tell me a thing, Rosalind. I don’t want to know.”
I must look hurt because she adds. “Don’t you see? Information can be used against me. If I know nothing, it is better for you. For the babies.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, kissing her cheek. “Thank you, Latvia.”
I steal away in the night, the moon swollen in the sky, its light guiding me.
The light, the only thing I can cling to as I cross a highway, disappear. I leave without looking back.
The third trucker who picks me up looks me up and down, searching for a story that I refuse to give. Latvia was right, avoid telling my story, because if I spill anything – the underground crime ring, the women for sale, the babies on the black market, it will only put a target on my back.
“Just trying to get home,” I tell him.
When the morning sun breaks through, I run my fingers over my eyes, determined to be positive.
Buck will remember me. He will be happy to see me. He will keep me safe.
Maybe – it’s a lot to ask.
If I don’t ask him, I’m alone.
For all these months I’ve been dreaming of this day.
The day when I get to walk up his road, taking a left off the highway at Eagle Canyon, and a mile up is a marker for his place. A massive, carved bald eagle is perched out on the gravel road.
I memorized the directions he gave me to his cabin the day we met and have been reciting them ever since.
“Just pull up here,” I tell the driver when we reach Eagle Canyon. “I really appreciate it.”
“Sure thing, honey. Now you gonna be safe walking through the woods at dawn?”
I nod. “As safe as I’ll ever be.”
I carefully get out of the big rig, taking a deep breath.
This is it. Now or never.
I blink back tears, needing this to work.
The truth is, I have nowhere else to go.
11
I wake up with a hard-on. Once again I spent the night dreaming of a woman that at this point I think I made up in my head. It’s been eight months since I saw her heart-shaped face, since we laughed over pancakes, and I spread her pussy apart with my cock.
It’s been another night of stroking myself, remembering her tight pussy, the way her tits bounced as she rode me. I can still taste her creamy release as I licked her cunt nice and thoroughly.
Dammit, it’s been eight months. It’s time I moved on.
But hell, forgetting Rosie is the last thing I want.
What I really want is her, here with me.
Her, riding me.
I wrap my hands around my hard cock, pumping hard, coming quickly.
My thoughts filled with her. Only her.
As I come, there’s a knock at my door.
What the fuck? I look at my phone, not even seven in the goddamned morning.
I get out of bed and tug on a pair of jeans. I live in a one-story cabin, but it’s pretty roomy. It’s got three bedrooms, two baths, a hot tub out back and a kitchen that, to be perfectly honest, doesn’t get much use. Walking to the front door, I eye the fireplace, thinking I should start a fire and warm up this place, always preferring the heat from burning wood to the stale air of the radiator.
I pull open the door and fucking forget to breathe.
Rosie is here.
Her face written with exhaustion, her eyes searching mine, and her belly round.
Very round.
Like, I’m going to have a baby now, round.
Round like Harper was with those triplets.
“Rosie?” I pull open door, wanting to pull her into my arms, which I know I shouldn’t want – not after she left the way she did.
But she came back.
She is here.
Seemingly frozen in place.
A single tear running down her cheek.
“Are you okay?” I ask, knowing she’s not. She’s bundled up, but still, it’s November, not the time for her to be traipsing around in the cold. Looking behind her, I search my driveway for a car. But there’s nothing. “Are you alone?”