Page 106 of Roots of the Wicked

Chapter Forty-Four

Jax

A month and a half had gone by, and I had managed to keep my sanity together, staying caged up in Chase’s mansion. I’d been teleworking, but it wasn’t enough to keep my busy mind occupied.

Not having any social media accounts shielded me from a lot of the negativity that came with being thrusted into the spotlight, but there were so many outlets and methods of dispensing drama, comments still made their ways to me.

They had labeled me every name in the book, but I was surprised to find the positive feedback on me and Chase’s relationship, far outweighed the negative. The positive vibes lightened my anxiety about the situation tremendously. I was a long way from being ready to stop and smile for the cameras, but Chase was the perfect remedy in helping me face my childhood horrors.

In a week, he was set to accompany me to the therapist I’d agreed to see. We’d spent weeks searching for the perfect doctor. I wanted my son to have what I didn’t, a mother. One with a stable mind.

The little meatball in my belly had started to flutter, the sensation, although, scaring me at first, now had me smiling like Chester Cheetah.

Chase had returned to a regular workday, but he phoned, or texted every hour on the hour to check on us. Since our drone stalker who remained nameless was still some place lurking, Chase didn’t believe it was safe for me to return to my office.

He took overprotective to a new level. I’d never had anyone care for me in that way, therefore I found that I was more flattered by his behavior than upset. He’d even kicked things up a few notches and had hired around the clock security.

He’d put a set of rules in place, banning me from going anywhere unless he was with me, and suggested I stayed clear of strangers to avoid diseases and viruses. To keep me from losing it, he often pointed out all the unresolved dangers we still had lingering over our heads like a dark cloud.

The only other places we visited were his family home and my doctor’s appointments. Since his father knew about the baby, he’d requested we visit weekly. We kept to a Saturday evening dinner plan I had gotten used to. Grandpa James had gotten so relaxed in his interactions with me that he touched my stomach. Even Blake had started to speak complete sentences in my presence.

***

At nearly five months pregnant, the swell in my belly was noticeable. My baby bump was official. I believed, I would be disappointed at the growing roundness but seeing the effects of my baby growing gave me a great degree of pride for the little fellow.

I rubbed my stomach and often sung to him, but I wasn’t crooning lullabies.

“Don’t worry, little fellow, we’re going to make our great escape from our captor, your father. He means well, but he’s a bit stalkerish.”

My new situation involved a lot of pampering that I enjoyed, but it was the being watched and under guard and key part that drove me crazy. For the first few weeks I didn’t mind it, fearing facing the crowds because of the media attention. Or inadvertently running into the drone stalker who still didn’t have a face.

I missed freedom, independence, and my ability to come and go as I pleased. Being cooped up was too much. I’d been studying the security team’s every move, either by eye, or by tapping into the security system.

I’d made plans to get out and breathe, like I’d done twice before already. My phone was charged, and Chase had given me keys to the house, as well as the alarm and gate codes, so all I had to do was duck out on the security team. A few hours of freedom, and I would be back and in the house by the time security even knew I was gone.

Two hours was plenty enough time to stretch my legs and clear the clutter from my brain. I’d come to terms with the fact of becoming a mother, but I remained on the fence about becoming a full-on instant family. Every time I convinced myself that we would be okay, the demons from my past would pop up and crush my positivity.

My phone was programed with everything I needed to trick the security system, and to open and close the gate without setting off any alarms. An Uber was set to meet me at the front gates.

Drone stalker or not, I was taking back my independence, in two hour increments.

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