Page 48 of Preying Heart
“Not here to argue, but your elevated blood sugar level makes it harder on your pregnancy, especially as you get past the fifth or sixth month. You may end up with gestational diabetes. The risks of a bad outcome are increased already due to the IUD and your horrible diet.”
“Why are you here lecturing me on diet?” I roll my eyes and huff. “Did the Million-Dollar Dude ask for medical updates?”
“I’m trying to keep you healthy,” Lucy says. “When Heath gets back from his walk, I’m going to have a word with him. You are to eat a balanced diet of protein, complex carbohydrates with lots of fiber, plenty of fruits and vegetables, but no juice, and definitely no sweets and alcohol.”
Wow. Not only do these two want to control where I live and breathe but also what I put in my body. The price for a healthy baby must be quite high.
“What else did the blood test reveal?” I wonder what her real purpose is in making a house call rather than telling me over the phone.
“Your liver function is borderline compromised, which aligns with your unhealthy diet of alcohol and mixers. Sweets and processed foods.”
This is unreal. I’m sitting here in a prison I made for myself when I cooperated with Heath to drag Lucy to the Fortress. I had a chance to leave, and she was the one who’d fought for me to go. But that was before Heath let her in on Big Dude’s bounty.
“Yesterday you were going to drive me to the women’s shelter. What changed?” I try to catch her eye, but she keeps them bolted to her laptop screen.
“As I recall, you refused to help me when Heath kidnapped me. I tend to remember betrayal.”
“Tell me about it.” I push the laptop lid down to get her full attention. “Look at me. Look at what you and Heath are doing to me. You’re keeping me prisoner so you can sell my baby. Isn’t that human trafficking?”
“Heath promised to do whatever you want with the baby.”
“That’s news to me.” Actually, it’s not. He did agree to let me decide, but I don’t believe it. “He would get no return on his investment.”
“You don’t get him, do you?” Her stormy gray eyes drill into me. “For whatever reason only he knows, he’s fixated on keeping you safe. You represent a whole lot more to him than a damsel in distress.”
“Yeah, a boatload of Bitcoin which he’s sharing with you.”
“He wants you to be comfortable here. That’s why he showed you the basement.”
It peeves me that he’s discussed everything with her.
“Does it bother you that I’m here living with him? Kissing him on the deck? Rubbing into him in the hallways? Romping in the basement?”
“I don’t care.” Her lips twitch as if she’s struggling for control.
“He’s using you. Can’t you see? He needs your medical skills to keep this golden goose alive and pregnant. So he shares a tiny bit of a Bitcoin with you with the promise of more. How do you know the million-dollar dude is real? How do we know Heath didn’t make all of it up?”
Her forehead wrinkles as the twitch makes her blink. “If there is no reward money, then at least we kept you out of the hands of the goons your congressman sent. That was not fake. You were there.”
“They could have been hired by Heath to stage the dramatic rescue. The younger guy even shot his gun at me but of course, missing.”
“You were lucky. The ad the Greasleys took out for you isn’t fake. And your foster father being executed isn’t fake.”
“Show me.”
She opens the lid of her laptop and types in her password. “Here. It’s in the news. The funeral is this Saturday. There’s a mention of you going missing and a boatload of conspiracy theories. They suspect an Eastern European government is behind it.”
“Can I have a minute to read through this?” I swallow and blink to give her the impression I’m overtaken with grief. “He was my foster father, and he was okay to me. There was a time when they tried to adopt me.”
“Interesting.” She pushes the laptop at me. “I’m thirsty. You want anything to drink?”
“Water is fine.” I skim the news article which is skimpy on details but full of lurid suppositions. They believe someone followed him home. It could have been a home invasion robbery but the killing was gruesome and ritualized, as if he was displayed as an example—a dagger through his throat nailing him to his headboard. The article didn’t mention if he was clothed or naked, but I wonder …
I browse to the email page to see if Slade tried to contact me, but she’s back too soon. I click back to the news page and sniffle, wiping the corner of my eye. “I can’t believe how brutal it was.”
“Done as an example to scare anyone else who might think of either double-crossing or defying the kingpin.” She sets the bottled water on the table. “Good choice. From now until the baby is born, and beyond, if you care about your health, you should refrain from any drinks other than water and milk—if you can tolerate it. No sodas, not even diet.”
“Why? I thought diet sodas have zero sugar.”
