Page 17

SIXTEEN

DIA

"In the wilderness of life, let your bear spirit guide you." — Unknown

The room is dim, the air stale.

The mattress beneath me is stiff and smells like dust and bleach.

There’s no window.

Just a vent in the ceiling that hums like a fly stuck behind glass.

My limbs are heavy, my head cloudy.

Everything feels slow, like I’m moving through syrup.

The injection.

They stuck me with something.

Not enough to knock me out for long, but enough to steal time.

Hours maybe.

Maybe more.

My first thought is the baby.

My hands fly to my stomach—still round, still solid, still there.

The kick is weak but real, thumping against my palm like a whispered, “I’m here, Mama.”

Relief floods me so fast I almost vomit.

Then the fear creeps in again.

Where am I?

I sit up, slowly, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed.

My ankles throb.

My lower back screams.

But I move.

That’s what matters.

The door is solid steel.

No handle on my side.

A camera in the upper corner blinks red.

They’re watching.

I pace.

I breathe.

I count.

One, two, three.

One, two, three.

If I let myself panic, I’ll drown in it.

I’m still trying to force my thoughts into something useful when voices echo outside the door.

Two men.

One older, one younger.

Their accents are thick—Southern, sharp-edged.

“She still out?” the younger one asks.

“No. She’s up. Pacing like a damn hamster.”

A low chuckle.

“You think the lady is gonna come check on her?”

“Eventually. Probably wants to wait until she’s calm. No sense stressing the cargo.”

The word cargo turns my stomach.

“You sure this is what she paid for?” the younger one asks.

“This whole containment thing on a pregnant lady?”

“She gave us fifty grand and one hell of a reason. Her son’s woman? Pregnant? With a Hellion's baby? She wants that kid.”

“What’s she gonna do with her after it’s born?”

My mind races. Benji’s mom. Why does she want me? What do they mean she wants ‘that kid’? This baby is her grandchild. Would she hurt him?

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to.” One of them mutters and I can’t help but agree even though I really wish I had all the answers right now.

I stumble backward, breath catching in my throat.

She wants the baby.

They’re going to keep me here until I give birth—and then take it from me.

I press my hand to my mouth, swallowing down bile.

They called her “the lady.” Maybe it isn’t his mom. But they said her son’s woman. Justin’s mom died when he was twelve.

No.

No, it couldn’t be. My mind goes back. Benji was supposed to be the safest person for me to ever be with. This doesn’t feel right.

I’m sitting cross-legged on Benji’s couch holding a video game controller.

“Okay,” he says, gently turning the controller right-side up for me, “this is the jump button. This one does fireballs, but don’t waste them.”

He’s trying to teach me this game with racing karts. I’m terrible. BW wasn’t into video games so I don’t have experience doing this. Still, though, Benji sits in front of me smiling like he is solving world hunger.

“I don’t think I’m cut out for this,” I admit as I watch my character go right off the cliff for the fifteenth time.

“Sure you are. You just haven’t found your groove yet.”

He’s so patient it almost gets on my nerves. There is no edge to him. No storm brews behind his eyes. I’m used to being around men who burn too hot. Their touch stings and they vanish. Benji is a slow burn. Steady. Warm.

“You’re weird if you think there is a groove to this and I’m magically gonna get it.”

He laughs, “you’re welcome, Princess. I’m here for your entertainment.”

I can’t help but smile. He’s so goofy it makes me happy and calm.

We play for another hour and I lose ridiculously never finding my groove. I fall asleep on his chest. We’ve been dating a few months. He goes slow and I appreciate that there is no pressure to have sex or be more than we are in this moment. He runs his fingers through my hair while I lay on him listening to the hum of the television.

“Can I ask you something, Dia?” He murmurs.

“Sure thing.”

“Why me?” his voice is cautious.

I lift up to look at him, “what?”

“I mean, we live two different lives. Why me? You could be with someone exciting. Someone dangerous. Instead, you’re here with me and I’m boring, baby.”

My heart skips a beat. I’ve had a taste of dangerous. He doesn’t say Justin’s name, but it hangs between us. He knows about him because I told him from the beginning I was in love with a man I can’t have. Maybe I shouldn’t have shared that. I didn’t want to give him the wrong idea though.

“You’re not boring,” I reassure him. “You’re consistent.”

“And that is good?”

“It’s crucial to me and my heart.”

He presses my head back onto his chest kissing the top of it, “I want to be a safe place for you, Dia.” His whispered words stay with me.

Benji was safe. Justin keeps me safe. Even now, I know without a doubt, he will come for me. He’s trying to get to me and he will. I just hope he gets here before it’s too late for me, for my son.

My fingers drift to the small silver chain around my neck. No, I don’t have a ring. There were no vows. Just this necklace with a single charm of the infinity symbol with Benji’s initials and mine engraved on the back. The necklace Justin had custom made for me as a way to remember Benji’s love is always with me, with our child. He embraces what I had with Benji. And right now I wear this necklace, this symbol of love from both men who I cherish is my only strength.

I wear it like armor. Even if it doesn’t protect me from the ache in missing both of them and the fear of what may come.

Could this be about my baby?

The door clicks.

I spin around as it opens.

And my entire body locks.

“Ms. Henderson?” I whisper.

She steps inside, slow. Calm. Patricia Henderson—Clutch’s mother. Long graying hair pulled into a tight bun. Pale blue sweater. No panic. No fear. Just poised. Like always, put together.

“Dia,” she says, as if we’re meeting for coffee.

My knees buckle.

“You, You’re here? They took you too?” I know the question is ridiculous. But I have to hope I misheard those men. I had to hold onto the goodness this woman once had for me, for her son. She won’t hurt me, I can’t allow myself to think like that.

She raises a hand, silencing me with just a look.

“I wasn’t taken.”

The world tilts.

“What?”

She sighs, stepping further into the room, folding her hands in front of her. “I reached out to them. After court.”

I blink. “You, what do you mean?”

Ms. Henderson exhales. “I didn’t know, before. I didn’t know Benji’s death was part of a targeted hit. I thought it was random. A tragedy. But when I learned what really happened? That someone planned it? That it was about that club, this gang he was in” she spits the word like poison, “I realized something.”

I stare, frozen.

She keeps going, voice low, measured. “You’re carrying the last piece of him. And I’m not going to let that club take it. I’m not going to let you have the last part of my son.”

“That club embraced Benji.”

“They got him killed .”

Her voice rises.

“They let him run with criminals. They dragged him into that ride. And now they’ve got you wrapped up in their filth too. With a new man. Another patched member. Am I right? I have pictures of you with that tattooed man. Cartoons inked all over his body like he’s a walking comic strip. How cute. You aim real high. Trash like your mother and her mother. Consider this my way to break the generational curse in your family.”

I don’t answer.

Tears blur my vision, but I hold them back. She won’t see me break. She doesn’t get to have power over me.

She takes a step forward. “You moved on so fast, Dia. My son was barely cold and in the ground.”

I choke. “You think this is about moving on?”

She ignores me. “I took what was left of Benji’s life insurance. I paid those men to bring you here. You’ll stay until the baby is born. Then I’ll take him—or her—and leave. Somewhere far from this town. From the Hellions. From all of it.”

My head shakes violently. “No. No, you won’t. You won’t get my son.”

“I will.” She laughs manically.

“You’ll have to kill me first.”

She blinks, like that possibility doesn’t disturb her at all. “I don’t want to hurt you, Dia. I just want to save the last part of my son. But if you make me get violent, I can’t be held responsible for what I do.”

Desperate, I let the words tumble out. “This child might not even be his.”

Ms. Henderson’s lips tremble, but she nods. “I know. But I pray that it is. And even if it isn’t... it’s what’s left of you. And you were his, once. That’s enough. You don’t get to have it all. My son’s love, his last days, and his baby. Not when I’m left empty.”

I back away, heart slamming against my ribs. She wants my son. She wants my baby. I feel my world spinning as my anxiety climbs. I have to think. I have to be smart. I have to buy time until Toon comes. The Hellions will come for me. And she will learn why he has his road-name. Everyone thinks it’s all cartoons and fun around Justin until he flips. And then the joke’s on whoever set him off because he has a mean streak as big as the Nile my brother says. Don’t ever mistake his easy going personality as weakness and don’t ever think he’s a fool or a toon, he’s anything but.

“I will scream until they break down this door.”

“No one will come. They’ve been paid to follow orders. You’ll have food. You’ll have rest. And when the time comes,”

“Don’t,” I snap. “Don’t you finish that sentence.”

She stares at me, emotionless. Then she turns. “Sleep, Dia. Rest. You’ll need your strength.”

The door closes behind her. And I collapse onto the bed, shaking so hard I can barely breathe. I think about Justin. The way the ink covering his body is full of color, full of life. That is what he gives me that no one else can, he colors my world, making our love so vivid and vibrant. I’m not giving up on him, on this baby, and on the future I am going to have with Justin.

Hours Pass

I don’t know what day it is. I don’t know where I am.

But I know one thing.

They’re going to take my baby.

Unless I stop them.

I run scenarios in my head. Over and over.

There’s a vent—too small to climb through, but maybe I can talk through it. Or send something. What though?

The food tray arrives through a slot in the door. Plastic. But maybe there’s a way to wedge it in the vent.

The camera watches everything.

But maybe they’re not always watching.

I have to find a way out.

I have to believe Justin and the Hellions are looking.

I close my eyes and picture him.

His rough hands. His warm eyes. The way he talks to the baby at night, his voice a gravel lullaby. He’ll come for us. Justin will be here.

Later, when I hear one of the men say, “It’s almost time. She’s too far along. Can’t risk transporting after she has the kid.”

At their words, I know my time is running out.

I sit on the edge of the bed, hands curled over my stomach.

I speak to my baby.

“We’re going to get out of here,” I whisper. “Mama’s not giving up.”

Not on you.

Not on us .