Page 72 of In Love with the Devil

“Pretty bird?” he calls from the hall.Then at the door to the bathroom, I finally hear his concern. “Tory! What’s wrong?”

“The… baby. Pleas–” I’m panting, trying to get as much air into my lungs as possible. “Help–please. Hospital. Please.” When he slips his arm under mine to pick me up I cry into his shoulder and scream again as my spine rips.

“Tory, it’s too early.”

“Please… hospital, Ju–please. The baby. Please.”

“Shh. Calm down. I’ve got you, baby. I do.” He unlocks me from the neck collar.

The pain returns, my eyes widen, and I can’t help but fist what little of his skin I can.“Fuck!” I cuss at the same time he says, “Ow.”

“Help,” I keep crying and begging.

“Iam, little bird. I promise.”

As soon as I see the syringe I panic. “No. What are you doing? Don’t drug me, Julian. It will… hurt the baby. Pl–” It’s too late. My eyes roll back and the world fades.

When my eyes flutter open, I can see a hint of the morning light. The first thing I notice is the emptiness and lightness of my belly. Without looking, my hand lifts to caress it but find nothing but flatness. I'm no longer carrying our baby. It takes me a while to remember what happened. I went into labor, but I’m only eight months along. The baby wouldn’t be ready, evenIknow that. Julian… he drugged me. What did he do? It’s gone. How is that possible? A small drop of hope keeps me from sobbing myself to death, maybe the baby is alive after all.

Julian is by my side, sleeping. The door to the room is open and I’m not chained. Slowly, I get up and walk to the small crib he bought, but as I suspected, it’s empty. I grab the yellow blanket from inside. It smells like fabric softener.

God, I’ve wanted nothing so bad in my life as wanting to hold my baby. The emptiness in my arms, in the blanket, stabs me with every breath I take. I should’ve been the one to die. I hold up the blanket to muffle my anguished cry that fails to stop the pain. The blanket is yellow because, in my culture, that’s what you get when you don’t know the sex. If it’s a girl, pink, if it’s a boy, blue, if you don’t know… then yellow like the sunrise, like the best parts of the day–like a big star that shines all the darkness away.

I try to keep my sobbing silent, but it hurts to be a fraction again. I miss being two. Two was so delicious, so comforting, so warm. Never apart. So strong together that we even managed to soften the devil into believing he loved me if only for just a second. I provided for him and he used to do cartwheels inside me, but I never yelled at him. I never told him that playing at three o’clock in the morning was not letting me sleep. Maybe I didn’t hold my belly enough. Maybe I didn’t talk to him enough to let him know how much I wanted him, that I had changed my mind, needed and loved him with all my heart and soul. Maybe God heard all my prayers at the beginning and punished me for them by granting my wish. God, I hate being a fraction. It hurts so much.I’m so sorry, baby. So, sorry.

I don’t want to wake Julian. There’s no sign of the baby anywhere which means my baby is dead. But where is his body? What did he do to my baby?Where is my baby? After I weep myself into a state of numbness, I put a nightgown on, take the yellow blanket with me, and walk down the stairs. With his jacket and shoes on, I open the front door. By walking out, I’m begging for him to kill me, but nothing matters anymore.

My baby is dead.

My only reason for living is gone.

It’s freezing outside. My entire body is off kilter so I can only walk at a snail's pace. I’ve watched Julian drive out to work through the bedroom window many times, so I know that the real exit to the property is on the other side of the house.

I walk and walk and walk, even when I want to give up, even when the wind freezes my face, my bare legs, I just keep walking.

Chapter thirty-three

You Pulled Me Through

Astoria

I’m shocked as I leave the property. It’s the worst case scenario staring at me. It’s desolate, flat snow-covered fields on both sides of a two-lane road. There’s nowhere for me to hide. In every step I take, I can feel him right behind me, but I don’t dare look. I keep moving. His shoes, which are too big for me, make it ten times harder to walk fast. But I need to do this or I’ll never forgive myself for being such a weak, stupid bitch.

It takes miles for me to find the first sign of life: a gas station. Somehow reality crashes on me when I open the door. I escaped. My heart is pounding so fast I can't breathe. The clerk's eyes bulge in concern and shock at the sight of me.

"Miss? You alright?"

"H-hel-help me."

I beg the clerk to hide me behind the counter while he calls the cops, then sit on the corner next to the register. It’s the spot that’s most covered from public view. The floor hurts my butt cheeks but beggars can’t be choosers. With my knees gathered to my chest, I fist the yellow blanket as if it were magical and could protect me from Julian. My hands shake violently and fat tears come out of my eyes while scanning every stitch. The memory of Julian whipping me flashes as if it's happening all over again. What would be the punishment for losing his baby?

Everything is going to be okay,I keep trying to convince myself. The clerk is only two steps away from me while tending the register and watching TV. He hands me a bottle of water and I drink it so fast that some of it mixes with the wet spots my breasts are creating on the nightgown. Then he hands me a pastry and I consume it in three bites.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

“You’re fine now. They’re coming. Try to relax.” If he only knew how long I’ve been wanting to hear and believe those words, but I don’t, I can’t believe it.

I’ll never be fine again. One reason I walked out of the property is because of my need to at leasttryto get away from Julian, but there is another dark reason. There’s another part of me who wants him to end my life so that it can be over.

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