I’m still shivering hours after Santiago left. I feel so cold. Did he only marry me to gain physical custody of me? To have me within his home, within his power to do with me as he pleased?
Why am I asking the question? I know the answer.
“Your body will be a healthy host for my child.”
My mind is still reeling. I’m pregnant with his baby.
His.
I didn’t miss the fact that not once did he say it was our baby. I am a host. A body. A thing to breed.
The nurse pokes her head inside and warily searches the room. She smiles and pushes the door all the way open when she sees I’m alone.
“How are you feeling, love? I’m glad to see you ate all your breakfast.”
“Am I really pregnant?” I ask her.
She smiles warmly. “Yes, just a few weeks, but you have a strong baby in there.” Her expression changes, pity creeping into it. “You know we have psychologists on staff. They’re approved by The Society so your husband can rest assured—”
“I’m in a Society hospital?”
She looks confused.
I shake my head. “Never mind.” Of course, I am. I am where Santiago can and will control everything. “Can we take this off?” I gesture to the IV.
“That’s why I’m here. Now that you’re up and feeling better, you’ll be sure to eat and drink to feed that little baby of yours.”
I nod, and she gets to work.
“The doctor will release you as soon as he’s here in a few hours. Mr. De La Rosa is anxious to have you home.” She glances at me momentarily when she says that part and finishes taking the needle out of my arm.
I look around the room. “Can I call my sister?” I ask her. “I don’t have my cell phone…” I trail off, and it’s not really a lie. I don’t have my cell phone. Or any cell phone.
“Oh.” She looks around too. “They must have taken the phone out when cleaning. I’ll tell you what,” she says, reaching into her pocket. “Use mine. It’ll be easier than tracking down the one that belongs in here. It’s not one of the fancy ones, but it works just fine.” She hands it to me and cleans up the last of the bandages. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Let me get these things sorted and pick up your lunch.”
“Thank you,” I say, trying not to sound too anxious as I flip her phone open. It’s one of the ones my dad used to have when I was little.
As soon as she’s gone, I dial Abel’s cell phone, hoping he’ll pick up even though he won’t recognize the number. When I hear the click as he does, I breathe a sigh of relief.
“Yes?” he answers short and sharp.
“Abel. It’s me. Ivy.”
“Ivy? What number is this?”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s not mine. I…I’m in the hospital.”
“What?” There’s an urgency in his tone I don’t expect. “What did he do to you?”
I don’t want to tell him about the aspirin. I feel too ashamed. And I can’t stand the thought that he’ll call me weak. I am. I know it already.
“Ivy?”
“I’m pregnant, Abel.” I hold back a sob when the words spill out, my throat tight. Pregnant. I know if I go back to that house, I will be Santiago’s prisoner forever. And my forever may not be that long. Is that the silver lining?
I hear something crash on Abel’s end of the phone.
“Abel? Can you hear me?”
“Yes.”
“I really need your help now. Okay?” I can’t help the tears that flow, and I know he hears them, but I go on before he can say anything. “I can’t go back there. I’m a prisoner. I’ll die. I know I will.”
“I’m assuming you’re at The Society hospital?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know your room number?”
I shake my head. “No. Let me go see.” I push the blanket aside and swing my legs off the bed. I move slowly, not trusting my limbs, feeling so weak. My legs are bare beneath the gown, and the floor is cold under my feet. I pad across the room to open the door, and the first thing I see is a man leaning against the opposite wall talking to a nurse. The moment he sees me, he straightens, his expression changing, darkening.
Santiago has a guard watching me.
I slip back inside and lean my forehead against the door
“Ivy? What the fuck is going on?”
I force myself to breathe. Try to calm my heart rate. “I’m on the fifth floor,” I say, having seen the number of the room across from mine. “I don’t know the number, but it’s across from 566. Abel, there’s a guard outside.”
“Okay. I need to think.”
I walk back toward the bed and sit down, my toes barely grazing the floor. I feel like a child. Like a scared little girl and I think about how Hazel left. How she managed to stay gone.
“Please, I can’t go back. I would rather die.” I wipe the back of my hand across my eyes.
“Just give me a little time. Can I call you back at this number?”
“I don’t think so. The nurse—”
“It’s fine. I’ll figure something out.”
“How?”
He snorts. “Your husband isn’t the only one with connections. Sit tight, little sister.” With that, he disconnects, and I’m left holding the phone, wondering about the last part. Little sister. It sounded almost affectionate, and I have to remind myself that this is Abel. He hates me.
But he hates Santiago more.
I’ve almost given up on Abel when, two hours later, there’s a knock on my door, and I sit up to see Evangeline’s face peer inside.
“Eva!”
“Knock, knock,” she says, slipping in and coming to me. I hug her so tight I don’t ever want to let her go. It’s been so long. Months.
“Eva, where’s Abel?” I ask when she pulls the chair Santiago had sat in up to the bed and glances to the door.
“He sent me. He thought they wouldn’t let him in to see you, but I’m just a kid.” She shrugs her shoulder with a wide grin. She reaches into her small backpack, pulls out a couple of Snickers bars, and sets them on the nightstand. “Hospital food sucks, right? And you got skinny.”
Her expression falters. I see worry. And I find I can’t speak without crying.
She glances back at the door. “The guard is at the door, but he’s flirting with some of the nurses. Your car’s outside,” she whispers. “At the back of the lot.”
“My car?”
She nods, slips her hand in her pocket, and pulls out a familiar keychain.
I smile.
She puts it back in the pocket. “Can I use the bathroom real quick?”
I nod. “Over there.”
"BRB,” she says almost cheerily. She goes into the bathroom. I wonder what’s going on when a few minutes later, she returns and when she does, I notice instead of the bulky sweater and jeans she had on when she walked in here, she’s wearing a pair of black leggings and a Henley.
“I didn’t figure you’d want to leave in a hospital gown,” she says.
“You thought of everything.”
“It was Abel mostly. Shocking.”
“Is he outside?”
She shakes her head. “He dropped me off down the street just in case. You probably want to get going. Abel left an address to a safe house in the glove compartment. And there’s a cell phone in the car. Maybe you can call me when you get out of here?”
“A safe house?”
She nods. “I don’t know what’s going on, but you don’t look good, Ivy.”
“I’ll be okay,” I tell her. “The guard?”
“Go get changed. When you’re ready, I’ll cause some commotion. Pull a fire alarm maybe. I’ve always wanted to do that. When you get out, make a left out of the room. The stairs at the end of the hall are unlocked.” She studies me. “Do you think you can get there on your own?”
“I don’t look that bad, do I?”
“No, of course not,” she says, her voice a little too high. It’s a lie. I must look like hell. “But we should hurry probably.”
I get up, and while my sister stands guard, I enter the bathroom and change into the clothes she brought, thinking there’s no way this will work. And even if it does, Santiago will find me. Even if I get out of the hospital or manage to get to the safe house, he won’t just let me walk away. Especially not now. But maybe I have to trust my brother. Maybe he’ll come through, and finally, do the right thing for us. His family.
I think about Dad. Wonder where he is. How he is.
“Ivy?” My sister knocks.
“I’m ready,” I say, slipping my feet into the ballet slippers she brought.
“You look better already,” she says and hurries to the nightstand. “Don’t forget the Snickers.” I have to laugh when she shoves them into my pockets, then pulls me in for a hug. “Please call me as soon as you’re at the safe house, okay? Please don’t forget.”
“I won’t. I promise.”
“Give me a two-minute head start.”
“Okay.”
With that, she hurries out of my room and, on cue, not two minutes later, the fire alarm rings, and I hear the confusion in the hallway. I give it another minute before opening the door, and when I see the guard who was standing outside earlier with his back turned, I step out of my room. It takes all I have to walk, not run toward the exit sign marking the stairwell, and slip through the door and out of sight.