Page 23 of Rushing Her: Seattle, Westerners
“That makes me feel so much better. Well…?” I wave my hand toward the tablet.
“You already know the answer. The key now is to discern if it’s a multiple pregnancy.”
“I thought so.” Sighing deeply, warmth radiates through my body in acceptance. My hand slides to my belly where my baby lies. “I began having some serious nausea while on the trip to New York. My bra hurts my breasts, and everything is more intense than I expected.”
“Those symptoms can sometimes be indicators of multiples. Also telling is the fact that the effects are hitting you quicker. For the nausea, let’s try some natural remedies before considering medications. I’ve read that you meet with a counselor regularly. I would continue that. It will help with any worries or concerns you'll likely have. Be it with the attack on you or the anxietyof preparing for a multiple pregnancy. I’d like to do a quick ultrasound to see how many are discernible. Good?”
“That all sounds wonderful. I use herbal mint or ginger teas to help with the nausea, right now.”
“You can try some ginger chews if you like those.”
“I can look for them.”
An hour later, I’m sitting down the block from the clinic, with photos in my hand and Warner giving me space. Three babies. I’m pregnant with triplets. I curb the urge to rub my stomach just in case someone is watching me. I’m scared, like the doctor said I would be. I need to talk to Brayden.
We haven’t seen each other in almost a week. I miss him terribly and have been craving his body something fierce. As I reach for my phone to call him, it pings with an alert. Due to my job, I have it set to receive any breaking news in the football league, so with a flip of a phone, my whole world flips upside down. The gossip rag claims to have photos of Brayden sleeping with a woman in Salt Lake City while he was there earlier this week. I click on the link, and I’m bombarded with the images. Bray’s naked ass is barely visible because of the black square over it, but his massive body is sprawled out in sleep on the bed. The unidentified woman suggests that she’s coming forward because of these pictures, but she has other proof, as well.
Movement catches my eye as Warner sprints toward me. I raise my hand, not wishing to talk to her. She’ll only deny it. I realize there’s a chance it’s not him, but there is an equally strong chance that it is.
I turn and head into the café, toward the bathrooms. I can’t process all this at once, and as soon as the door clicks behind me,I rub my stomach to ground myself. I now have a higher purpose here. My three babies. They are everything.
Needing more time to myself, I calm my breathing and peek around the open door. Warner’s back is to me at the head of the hallway. I glance around and notice another exit that leads to the attached mall.
Say a prayer that I can do this as quietly as possible.
I slip out the bathroom door and push the other one open, never turning my back on Warner. I slip out and immediately know I’m not alone. I see the driver, and he sees me.
Sneaking away, I mingle with the crowd, hiding amongst them. As a group of tourists strolls to Pike Place Market, I join along and step into the first store some of them break off to. Sticking to the middle of the shop, I partially hide behind a display as I watch the driver walk past me first, then Warner.
I need to get out of here.
Opening my phone, I tap the car service app and set a pickup time to take me to Raven’s office. From there, she’ll get me clothes, and I can escape for a few days. Somewhere to think before Brayden attempts to coerce me into believing his side of the story.
A part of me knows it’s not him, but that insecure part that remembers his behavior after we broke up is not so sure.
The car pulls up in front of the store, and I race out, jumping in just as Warner recognizes me. She yells my name, but I just shake my head at her.
It took some time and a lot of trickery to get Warner and her staff off my trail, but I’m finally on my way down to Oregon. Family is what I need, and hopefully, I don’t lead Brayden’sstalker their way. Which is another reason for taking a break from him and all this. Do I want to bring that craziness into my children’s lives?
Raven rented a car and a hotel room for me in her name. The car so I can escape and the hotel as a diversion. She also purchased a burner phone for me, which only T.K. and my father have the number for. It won’t take long for Warner to figure things out, but it’ll give me some time to work out the next steps before my thoughts overwhelm me. I’m running on pure emotion right now.
Earlier, my father called me with an idea. One of the men in his practice has a place on Cannon Beach that I can use. The drive is four hours and will give me time to focus on something other than the disaster that is my life. My parents will be staying out there with me tomorrow, but for the night, they are at a hotel in Portland, hiding out as well.
Everyone is rallying around me this time. T.K. even assured me that Brayden wouldn’t find out my location from him, and he also doesn’t think the image is of Brayden, but it’s still questionable.
By nightfall, I’ve reached Cannon Beach and the lavish cabin where we’re staying, but I feel exposed out here by myself. I’ve never experienced this type of fear before but recognize that it stems from the stalker woman. This was never a problem until Brayden, but he can’t control other people. And for that matter, she came after me way before he and I decided to work our shit out.
I make my way closer to the massive house on pilings near the rocky shore. It’s gorgeous. There’s even an outdoor fireplace on the ground level. When I step through the front door, the opulence is breathtaking, and I decide I need one of these for myself.
I plan to give the primary suite on the main floor to my parents, so I take the stairs, choose one of the two bedrooms, and drop my bag inside. I log in to my computer to handle some office work, looking forward to eating soon. A call to the caretaker before arriving ensured a fully stocked pantry.
Food, rest, and relaxation. It’s all I need.
Brayden
“Son of a bitch.” I toss my phone onto the seat next to me as Warner confirms for the umpteenth time that my girl gave her the slip. I need her found.
My agent and attorney have both been on the phone with me, trying to get this media nightmare under control. I know it’s the woman from Salt Lake City, but I don’t understand why, unless, like Warner and my attorney think, she’s my stalker. Tomorrow, we’ve planned a meeting to examine an image of her, but I need to find Alexandra now. I know she had an appointment today, and I tried to contact the doctor, but she told me she wouldn’t break patient confidentiality.
