Page 33 of Van

“Nic, please. Thank Van for me, okay?” I’m begging her with my eyes and my tone. I’m begging her to step away from us because I don’t know what Derrick will do, and I don’t want her to get hurt.

“What the fuck, Chy?” she asks, stepping closer to me. That’s when she sees it. He flashes her the gun as she slowly shakes her head. “Don’t do this, Derrick. Please, she’s pregnant.”

“You think I don’t know that? It’s my kid!” He snaps at her but keeps his tone low so he doesn’t grab anyone’s attention.

“Don’t do this, Derrick.”

“Walk away, Nicole. I’m warning you one time only.”

“Please, Derrick,” I beg him myself.

“You just walk. Shut up and walk.” I do as I’m told, my eyes finding Nicole’s as I go. She looks panicked and almost like she wants to scream. I don’t blame her. I feel the same, but I don’t want him doing anything stupid either. I keep my eyes ahead of me and go where he leads me.

We’re out of the store and heading toward his car, where he ushers me into the driver’s seat. He climbs in the back and keeps the gun trained on me as he orders me to drive.

I pull out of the parking lot and follow his directions. We aren’t going to the apartment we once shared because it’s not this way. So, where the hell is he taking me?

“I have appointments I can’t miss, Derrick.”

“You’ll be fine. Shut up and drive.” A chill runs down my spine as I keep driving in the direction that he told me. Finally, he had me pull over into a small, run-down neighborhood and into a driveway.

“Get out,” he orders. I turn the car off and climb out, praying to god he doesn’t keep me here. I don’t know what he wants. I don’t know what he’s doing this for. “Inside,” he says as he shoves the door open and ushers me inside. I step in, and I’m almost shocked at what I see. The place is set up nicely. Not as shitty as I thought it would be. He leads me through the living room and down the hall into a bedroom that is also set up nicely. There’s a bed, a crib, everything you would need for a baby and my stomach turns at seeing this.

“What’s all this?”

“You think I wouldn’t set up a room for my baby?” he asks, sounding shocked I’d even ask.

“You did all this?”

“I did. I knew the baby was going to need a place to sleep near us,” he says. He’s delusional. He has to be. I left him. I left him because he’s abusive, and now he’s done this? He has to be crazy. Just as I think it, he starts pacing the room. Is he on drugs? Is that what this is? His eyes are wild as he looks anywhere except me. He walks over near the bed and motions for me to follow. I walk over and sit on the edge as I feel something click around my ankle. Now I panic.

“What the hell is that?” I cry out as he stands and grins at me.

“I can’t have you running on me,” he says.

“You can’t do this, Derrick. I’m pregnant,” I remind him.

“I know. That’s why I need to keep you here,” he tells me. I don’t know what to do. What the hell do I do now?

“You can’t keep me chained to the bed,” I argue. “I have appointments,” I repeat.

“It’s taken care of. I have it all taken care of, Chyanne. You left me. You shouldn’t have left me,” he growls before he slaps me across the face. My head snaps to the side, pain shooting through my face. He can’t do this to me. He just can’t.

“What do you want from me?” I cry as pain shoots through my cheek.

“You don’t get it, do you? If I can’t have you, no one else can. This is the best I can come up with until the baby gets here,” he replies manically. He’s crazy. He has to be.

“You can’t do this, Derrick. Please don’t do this,” I beg him. It does no good. He ignores me as he goes back to pacing the room. I shove myself up off the bed and drag the chain along behind me.

“Derrick, please. Think about this,” I plead with him as I follow behind him through the room. He stops and turns to face me, gripping my face in his hands.

“I have thought about this. A lot, actually. You left me, Chyanne, and that isn’t acceptable. You’re carrying my baby, and you belong with me,” he roars in my face. I try to take a step back but he doesn’t let me. He keeps his hands on my face, gripping it tightly as he looks into my eyes.

“This isn’t the way, Derrick,” I try to plead with him, but it does no good. He doesn’t want to hear it. He doesn’t want to hear me. He shakes his head, a sick smirk crossing his face.

“This is the only way. You wouldn’t have come back. Your little boyfriend made that clear,” he tells me.

“He isn’t my boyfriend, Derrick. We can talk about this.”

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