“Sorry to do this, but something just came up and I’m leaving my office in twenty minutes. If you can come now, I will put through the transfer. If not, we’re going to have to reschedule for tomorrow.”
“I’m sorry, but I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I say, confused.
“Like I explained to your mother this morning, I know that your signature is on the transfer papers but either I or a notary public has to witness you signing the documents.”
“What?” I whisper.
“They have your signature, but from your tone, I take it that you didn’t know.”
“No,” I whisper again, moving down the hall so I can talk without my mother hearing. “You said they have my signature?” I ask, making sure I understand him correctly.
“Yes.” He pauses and I can hear papers shuffling in the background. “I double checked when I got them.”
“Oh my God,” I mumble into the phone, realizing why my mother is really here. “She’s here right now,” I say quietly, more to myself than to Mr. Stevenson.
“She’s at your house?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
“I’m calling James. Keep her there,” he says, hanging up.
“Okay,” I say to dead air on the phone. I look down the hall, trying to come up with a plan to keep my mom here until Asher’s dad arrives. I consider going outside and slashing her tires, but figure that might be a little extreme. Then, I thought about sicking Beast on her, but if she hurt my dog, I would be really upset. So, after a few more non options pass through my head, I decide to just invite her in and ask her if she would like something to drink. I leave the hallway.
When I reach the kitchen, I can see over the island that Asher is sitting on the couch with his hands resting on top of his head. My mom is sitting on the coffee table in front of him. “I guess we weren’t on the same wave length after all,” I mumble to myself. Asher’s eyes come to me as soon as my feet hit the tile floor in the kitchen. He shakes his head. I narrow my eyes. My mom looks at me, smiles, and I see she has a gun in her hand pointed at Asher.
“What are you doing?” I scream as I start running into the living room.
“Don’t come any closer or I’ll shoot him,” she says and I stop at the edge of the living room. My heart is pounding as if it’s going to jump out of my chest. I look at Asher. His eyes are on me and he looks worried. His eyes drop to my stomach and they close, but not before I see pain flash across them.
“As I was telling your boyfriend here—”
“Fiancé.” Asher growls, glaring at my mom. I almost laugh. Only he would stop a crazy person with a gun to clarify our relationship status.
“As I was telling your fiancé,” my mom says, glaring back at Asher. Then she looks to where I’m standing. “You need to come with me.”
“Where?” I ask even though I know where she wants us to go. I just need to stall for time.
“You’ll see,” she says, standing. “Before we go though, you need to tie him up. I don’t need him coming after us.” She pulls some rope out of her bag. “This was for you, but it looks like we’re going to use it on him instead,” she says, throwing the rope at me. I catch it midair and look at Asher, trying to find a way to get out of this. “Come on, come on. We don’t have all day.” She motions to him with her gun. I walk slowly towards Asher. I don’t want to do this. Tears start to fill my eyes. I can’t tie him up.
I shake my head. “I can’t.” I sob, stopping a few feet from where he’s sitting.
“Either you tie him up or I’ll shoot him.”
I start sobbing harder and my breath hitches. “Baby,” Asher whispers, his hands coming toward me.
The gun goes off. “Keep your hands where I can see them,” my mom yells as I scream. Asher places his hands back on his head with a look of pure rage on his face.
“Tie his hands behind his back and to his ankles. Do it now or I’ll shoot him.”
“I’m so sorry.” I cry as Asher places his hands behind his back.
“Be strong, baby, for both of us,” he whispers, and I know he’s talking about our daughter.
“I will. I promise,” I whisper. I don’t want her to know that I’m pregnant. The day I started wearing the maternity pants I bought from Target, my baby bump showed up. Normally, I would wear something more form fitting to show it off. Thankfully, today I have on an oversized tee and leggings because we were lounging around the house. I worked on tying his arms behind his back then he lay with his chest to the couch and I tied his hands to his ankles. I am glad that he has on sweats and a long sleeve shirt so the rope doesn’t rub his skin. When I finish, my mom walks over to the couch and tests the knot I tied.