When I wake I have a slight headache. I don't recognize the ceiling and it is then I realize I am in a strange room and bed. I try to sit up.

What the fuck? And where am I?

Then the previous day comes back to me.

School.

Ultrasound.

Restaurant.

The fight.

Cab.

The hotel.

Darrell.

Last night. The memory comes back to me.

I pace up and down in the hotel, my anxiety and regret not giving me peace. I used a fake name and I just hope they stay away. I couldn't just say yes, and we sail into the sunset. But now its dawning to me how immature walking away was and how mean and uncalled for I was to them.

Though I am still a bit wounded, but I see now what made me jumpier and feel claustrophobic was the fact that I could see myself forgiving them, hearing them and I thought that wasn't fair to me.

What about my pain? What about my determination to make them have a taste of their own medicine? They hadn't even begun suffering. It had only been a week and they were not as punished as I would have liked. They liked following me around and they liked doing things for me.

But I was starting to believe everything they were saying. I knew they loved me, and our son and they would do anything for us, but it felt like I was not honoring myself. I want to forgive them, but I also feel like I have to stay mad at them.

My anger needs to be felt. My emotions need to have space to move like they want to. I couldn't just say yes, and we sail away into the sunset. But now I feel like shit. I shouldn't have done that. I could have asked for room to breathe without hitting them where I know they will hurt most. I know my words hurt and I feel like shit. I know we need to have a talk at least.

When I see the clock at 9pm, I know I have to return. I need to face them and we need to talk and place everything on the table at least and I need to apologize. I groan when I remember Simba doesn't have a car, and I don't want to call any of them either. I had blocked their numbers and it feels like I'm a crazy person with the blocking and unblocking.

And I am not ready for the hour-long ride back to Charlotte with their angry and probably devastated faces. They may also need some time away from me and that hurts a little.

I turn on my phone and I dial the next best option. I will apologize in the morning, that's if I don't find them standing at my door like sheep.

"Willow." He answers like he was already in bed

"Yeah, sorry for waking you. But I was wondering if you would please come get me." I am hoping I sound cute enough to drive an hour for in the middle of the night.

"Where are you?" I hear him moving

"Um, in Eden. I...uh, I have to go back to school. I...uh...I made a rash call. And it's too late to get a rental."

"Okay, I'll be there in an hour, okay? Stay put."

"Thank you so much, Darrell."

An hour later he picks me up. We pass the gas station where he gets me snacks and water and we talk a little before I am very sleepy.

My heart hammers hard in my chest.

Darrell. Is this his place? Why am I here and not in school? The last thing I remember is the gas station, then he...the water. I slept. I touch my belly, my breath coming out in pants.

My baby.

I realized the possibility that maybe I was drugged because there's no way I would have slept on my own and I would have felt him carrying me. I'm not that heavy a sleeper and I was too emotional, too anxious to just sleep through everything.

I was in high alert expecting them to show up and generally feeling shitty. I knew things would go left if they found me with Darrell. A dumb decision in hindsight. Especially now that I am waking up in foreign surroundings.

But why would he drug me? And my child, are they okay? What if he gave me something that will harm him?

I will fucking kill him. I move and the headache feels like my head will separate from my neck. I hold it and I try to move slower. I groan as I think of calling for him. This is all so weird. I take a few calming breaths before I attempt moving again.

I get off the bed and I find fluffy shoes on the carpet, and I get on them and I head to the bathroom. I find pain meds then I proceed to do the morning business and then I wash my face and brush my teeth with one of the sealed toothbrushes I found. I hope none of these things are laced with drugs. A feeling of dread is at the back of my mind, but I push it away.

I am safe.

Darrell is a nice guy.

The water is just a misunderstanding. Maybe he saw how anxious I looked, and he was trying to help me.

I am more affirmed when I don't find the door locked. I venture out and I notice it's a big house. I head downstairs where I hear the tv playing. I smell coffee and I want to leap as my stomach growls. I am famished.

I find a topless Darrell in the dining table with a tablet in his hands. No one is watching the tv. I give an appreciative eyebrow quip. He has a good-looking body, but I also notice a lot of faded scars. That makes my brows furrow involuntarily.

But I school myself quickly. It is rude to judge him. I don't know his story. But I realize then, I don't know anything about the guy other than his name. Darrell Smith. Smith. A common, boring name. Almost too boring.

His eyes lift to me, and he smiles a small smile, but it doesn't reach his eyes. I force one back. I need to get out of here and soon and I will need to block his number when I get back to school. Something about him isn't adding up or settling me.

He gets off the chair and he picks up the shirt in one of the chairs and puts it over his head.

"You are finally awake." He strides to me in confident steps, too confident. It's like he knows something I don't. It leaves a bad feeling in my belly, but I stuff it down. I have to be calm. Ask him to take me back to school and then block him.

I want to roll my eyes thinking the boys will be very pleased with the knowledge that I don't want to see him ever again. But after last night I know I overreacted and maybe they were right: I need to let them try a little.

Darrell stands right in front of me and his tall form looms over me like a dark presence. The smile in his face does nothing to quail the feeling of something sinister I feel under his surface. Something I've never felt before.

"How did you sleep?" he lifts his hands, and he brushes my cheek. I close my eyes, trying to force myself not to flinch. I want to cry.

"You were knocked out last night." I open my eyes. So, he didn't drug me? "I just brought you here instead, I hope you don't mind. My family has a place halfway between Charlotte and Eden and you looked like you needed better rest." He says.

I lick my lips as I try to sit on my panic. I nod softly. "So, uh, it's a school day, we need to go."

He frowns. "I already called telling them you weren't feeling well. They gave you the day. I'll drive you later." He says completely flat. "Now come, eat. You are eating for 2."

My eyes sharpen on him. He knows I'm pregnant. Now panic really settles on me.

"Darrell, what did you do to me last night?"

"Yoh, calm down, princess. I was tucking you in and I had to take your jacket off. You are showing. It wasn't anything weird and I didn't touch you." His face houses his annoyance. Nothing like I've ever seen on his face. I remember what my father used to say. Never let your attacker see or feel your fear. I let the saliva in my mouth just hang there. I don't want him to see me swallow.

"So, breakfast." I divert his attention and when he turns, I swallow.

Fuck, I need them. I need the guys.

My bag, my phone. I need to find my phone. I remember how I switched it off after I called Darrell and it's probably still off wherever it is.

Fuck. Why am I so stupid? Why didn't I just call them? I'd be safe in my dorm and exchanging glares with Mason at the safety of their presence where no one can touch me. They must be worried sick. I know we are at odds, but I do know they love me, and our son and they are agonizing over not knowing where we are. I just hope they tracked me somehow.

"Um, I need my bag, Darrell."

"I made coffee, but I guess tea is better for you." He starts moving to the kitchen and my eyes rake the place when he completely ignores what I just said. I am looking for exits, potential weapons, phones, anything.

I may not know much but I know none of this is good and I need to get the fuck away from this psycho as soon as possible.

He rounds the island. "I am not the best cook, but I can make toast and egg and bacon. Will that be fine for you two?"

My insides twist at the mention of my child. I don't want him to refer to my child, especially after he drugged me last night. I can't even force a smile.

"Right. Um, does anyone know you are pregnant?" he enquires, and it doesn't ease my nerves.

I shake my head. He just nods and he goes and gets busy pulling the bacon out of the fridge like he's doing something normal. He takes the bread out the bin. I watch him preparing the stove and the ingredients.

"What are you doing, Darrell?" I spit the question that dominates my mind. He drugged me, brought me here, called me in sick at school and now he is making me breakfast.

"Isn't it clear, Willow? I am taking care of you." He doesn't even look my way or have any emotion in that statement, and I just feel colder.

"Darrell." I want him to look at me and he doesn't. "Take me back." I demand.

"Willow, don't upset yourself over nothing. Sit and eat and we can talk." He says as he butters the toast.

"Darrell, what's going on?"

"Willow, sit." He orders and he pins me with his sharp gaze. I feel tears burning the back of my eyes and I blink. He just goes back to making breakfast. I take for the door, and I run.

"Willow." I hear his hard voice coming from the direction I'm fast running away from. I open the door and I halt my steps. Tears blur my vision at what's in front of me.

A hand on my shoulder makes me shrink inside.

What have I gotten myself into?

"Come back, you need to eat." His voice comes out even, like he doesn't see anything wrong. He pulls my rigid body and closes the door.

"Darrell..." I don't care that my voice comes out small and pathetic.

"Yes."

All words blur in my mind, and I don't remember how to speak. He sits me down and I look at his back as he goes back to the kitchen. My lips tremble as more tears flow but I wipe them.

Zahara, you can't scare in front of monsters. Calm down. They will find you.

I wipe my face. I have to calm down. I have to be strong. And I can't afford a high heart rate. My son doesn't need to worry.

I watch in silence as Darrell prepares the food. He brings the plate, and he places it in front of me. I don't want to eat it. What if he drugs it again? I don't eat.

"Eat." He orders

"You drugged me last time I ate something from your hand." I am glad my voice comes out strong this time.

He smirks. "Well, it is up to you. But if I wanted to drug you again, I can just do it, I don't need to be sneaky. As I'm sure you recognize that now." I see the sinister bubbling under and it's like I'm looking at him and seeing him for the first time. I am in way over my head. I didn't even know who he is.

"Who are you?"

He chuckles softly. But its unlike anything I've seen from him. This is darker, sinister and harbors cruel intentions and a deviousness I never have seen outside them.

"That, my dear Zara, isn't important right now." He pauses and runs his hands over his chin. "But what is, is what me and you will do together."

"I don't know if I lead you on, but there is no you and me Darrell."

He chuckles a little higher this time. "I like your fire. I see what they see in you."

"Darrell, I don't want to play this game with you. Tell me who you are and why I'm here." I hiss.

He shakes his head in insincere amusement. "I'd be nicer if I were you. You clearly have no idea the type of shit you've stepped on. But I'd be more careful if I were you. I am not a lovesick puppy like those idiots."

Every word hits me like a strong wind, and I would scream if I knew it would help. That means I will have to play this game smart. Maybe if I can delay long enough, they will find me.

My mind lands on my father. He will be so disappointed. If any of this comes out. I can hear the disapproval. But its more than that, this time I am wrong. He will have every right. I just hope my selfish mistakes don't reach him. I am not looking forward to those conversations.

"You should go shower. There's the tv. Make yourself comfortable." He gets up. I get up too. "I have business, but I will be back later." He looks at me with a dark look. "Don't try anything. My men won't hesitate to bruise your delicate skin. And they won't care about that bastard you are carrying. Those idiots will still deliver even if it's just you." He leers at my body and a terrified shiver takes over my body.

I hold my stomach. My son.

"What do you want with me?"

"That's not important to you right now, but you will find out soon enough."

He gets up and I stand too.

"If you want money just say so, they will give you anything."

He turns to give me a wide grin. "Oh, I know."

He walks out and I rub my belly, standing in the middle of the room.

What have I done, peanut? Mommy is so sorry. I hope your fathers come for us soon.

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