Not You It's Me (Boston Love #1) - Julie Johnson Page 0,129
this for a while. I rub my hand over Winnie’s back in soothing strokes, hoping it might calm him down.
“Spawn?” Chrissy whispers, so only I can hear. “Really?”
I glance at her and drop my voice so low, it’s nearly inaudible. “Tell them your contractions are getting worse. Tell them you have to sit.”
“Wouldn’t exactly be lying, if I told them that, Gem.” She winces in pain, holding her abdomen like it’s being torn apart from the inside. Probably because it is.
“My purse, in the backseat. There’s another phone inside.” My words are hushed but intent. “Get it. Call for help.”
Her eyes widen in comprehension as she nods, pushing off the wall, where we’ve been standing since Ralph forced us out of the car at gunpoint into this drippy, damp place.
Vanessa is shrieking again. “Seventy-thirty, or I walk. You’re lucky I’m not asking for more— hey!” She breaks off abruptly when she catches sight of Chrissy, waddling toward the car with measured steps. “Where the hell do you think you’re going, preggers?!”
“Oh, so you did notice I’m pregnant!” I have to hand it to Chrissy — she never even breaks stride as she tosses the words over her shoulder. “Could’ve fooled me. But really, don’t let me interrupt your little tiff. I’m just going to sit because, well, there’s a fetus pressing against my cervix like a train barreling down the tracks. And gravity is really not my friend, right now, if you know what I mean.”
Ralph steps forward. “Listen, bitch, I don’t care—”
“What’s the going rate for infanticide, these days?” I ask, interrupting him. “Anyone know?”
Vanessa rolls her eyes.
“I think it’s 25 to life.” Chrissy shrugs. “Does Massachusetts have the death penalty? I can never remember.”
“Oh, I’m not sure. But I don’t think juries look too kindly on baby-killers. Not to mention the inmates, in prison. I can only imagine what they’d do to a guy responsible for the death of a pregnant woman and her unborn—”
“Okay! Okay.” Ralph’s looking a little rattled. “Get in the fucking car and don’t fucking move. And leave the door open!”
“Christ, this is a fuck-up,” Vanessa mumbles.
“Gladly,” Chrissy says, her voice more fake-sweet than a packet of Splenda as she waddles the final few steps to the car. I catch her eyes just before she slides into the backseat, and hope she reads the message in my gaze.
Please, be fast. And please, be careful.
She nods slightly in comprehension. I hug Winnie tighter, praying this will all be over soon.
“This is taking too long.” Vanessa huffs, still glaring at Ralph. “Sixty-forty. That’s my final offer. You don’t like it, leave!”
“I’m the one with the gun!”
“Do you even know how to use that thing?” She taunts, leaning forward with her hands on her hips. I watch as Ralph processes her words, his face turning mottled red with anger.
Oh, no.
I know from experience, if there’s one thing he can’t stand, it’s having his ego questioned. Especially by a woman.
“I don’t know, do I?” he yells, swinging out his gun-hand and firing off two rounds. As soon as I see his finger on the trigger, I turn to face the wall, shielding Winnie with my body. The loud bang of the gun echoes through the entire space, ringing in my eardrums long after the bullets are embedded in cement ten feet to our left.
When I finally peel my eyes open, all I see is the gray wall in front of me, and all I can hear are Winnie’s wails, each one louder and more heart-wrenching than the last.
“Shhh, honey,” I breathe against his hair. “It’s okay. It’ll all be over soon I promise.”
“You’re crazy!” Vanessa’s shouting, behind me. “What the hell is wrong with you, firing a gun in here? Do you want to get caught?”
Glancing over my shoulder, I see her charging toward Ralph, a murderous look on her face. Despite the fact that he’s got a gun, Ralph does the smart thing for once — and backs the hell off. He retreats until he’s nearly at the Mercedes and she follows, screaming at him the whole time. I couldn’t care less, about their idiocy — not now, when there’s a clear shot between my position on the wall and the front door of my car.
I swallow, hard.
“Back off!” Ralph demands, his voice whiney. “Let’s just call Croft already, tell him we have her, and see what he says.”
“You’re an idiot if you want to be anywhere near here, when that call is made.” She scoffs.