Page 15 of Cashmere Cruelty

I cough once, twice. Then I cough some more. “Hey,” I call, meeker this time. Inoffensive. “Could I have some water?”

“You’ll get it once we’re there.”

“I can’t—” I wheeze a bit, just for good measure. “I can’t breathe.”

For a moment, I’m terrified Shithead #1 simply won’t care. He’s already slapped me once: how hard can it be to ignore me, too?

But then I hear another voice.The driver.“Just give her a sip, dude. She’s pregnant.”

“I don’t give a fuck what she is.”

“The boss needs her whole. Give her some goddamn water.”

With a click of his tongue, Shithead #1 relents. “Here,” he grumbles, all but shoving me a plastic bottle. “Don’t try anything funny.”

What am I gonna do, belly bump you like a sumo wrestler?“Thank you,” I croak instead, taking the bottle with my cuffed hands.

It takes a couple of tries to get it open. Shithead #1 certainly isn’t rushing to help me.Asshole.

If only this bottle were glass.

“Could you…?” I ask, gesturing to the hood over my head. With a sigh, my kidnapper complies.

“Fuck you,” I murmur sweetly.

“What’s that?”

“Thank you.”

He scoffs. “Just be quick about it.”

I take slow, deliberate sips. Now that I can finally see him, I realize my captor is nearly as tall as Matvey was. He has to hunch over to avoid bumping his head on the roof with every pothole.

Perfect.

The second he turns, I spill some water between my crossed legs. Discreetly, though. Then, as if nothing happened, I drink the rest of the bottle and crumple it.

“Thanks,” I say again, offering it to him. “Sorry, did you want some?”

“It’s fine,” the man grits, clearly irritated. He moves to take the crumpled bottle from my hands.

That’s when I act.

“Ah!” I cry out suddenly, folding on myself. I let the bottle fall, then hunch some more. “God, it hurts!”

“What’s happening?” the driver calls, concern in his voice.

“I don’t know, man.” Shithead #1 is panicking now. “She just started fuckin’ screaming!”

“Well, ask her then, dumbass!”

“Oh, God,” I sob, making a show of feeling the floor between my legs. “I think—my water’s…”

“You piss yourself?” the man frowns, taking a step back in disgust.

“No,” I say. “My water broke. I think… I think the baby’s coming.”

The van screeches to a halt.

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