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Fear slides out at the reminder that Roman wouldn't just walk away from me or a baby if I am pregnant. That's not the kind of man he is. If I am pregnant, it may be a shock, but we'll be okay.
Without fear pumping through me, I start to feel a little hopeful and excited at the prospect of having his babies. It's fast, but I want a future with him. And God, his babies would be beautiful, just like him and Tahani.
Oh no. Tahani.
What am I supposed to tell her if I am pregnant? What will she say?
I pace back and forth across the living room as another wave of fear rushes through me. When I still don't feel any better almost an hour later, I grab my phone out of my purse and start upstairs to call Roman. I need him to hold me and tell me that, regardless of what that test says, everything is going to be okay.
Glass shatters in the kitchen before I'm even halfway up the stairs.
I jump at the loud sound and spin around, my heart slamming against my ribcage.
The back door creaks open. I turn toward the alarm panel, my stomach sinking when I realize that I never rearmed the system.
An unfamiliar male voice mutters something I can't quite make out, but the mere sound of his voice sends pure terror pumping through me. Someone is in the house, and this time, it isn't Tahani visiting unexpectedly.
"Hurry up," that voice mutters to someone else. "We need to do this shit before he gets home, or the fuckin' neighbors catch us."
"No shit," a second male says. "You got the stuff?"
"Yeah," the first guy responds and then says something I don't understand in Spanish.
The second one answers him in Spanish and then laughs.
I stand frozen in the middle of the living room, my hand on my cellphone, as they mutter back and forth in Spanish, speaking so quickly, I don't stand a chance of interpreting what they're talking about. Fear rushes through me so fast that black dots swim before my eyes.
"I wish I could see the look on his face when he finds out," the first guy says.
"I still think we should have gone after his bitch first."
"No. The boss told us to wait until she left work. Once he's occupied here, we'll grab her."
Grab her? Are they talking about me?
"Fuckin' cop will regret killing Javier when his bitch never makes it home."
Oh my God. They're planning to kidnap me.
A chill works through me, freezing me from the inside out.
They don't know I'm here!
That realization allows me to pull a breath into my starving lungs. My feet finally move. I run as fast and as quietly as I can the rest of the way upstairs, praying like hell they don't hear me. There's no way I can make it past the kitchen without them seeing me. All I can do is hide and hope they don't find me. My steps sound so loud to me as I race down the hall, biting my lip to keep from sobbing. But I make it to the bedroom and close the door without either of them calling out or following behind me.
I turn the lock on the door and then race toward the closet.
I yank the door closed behind me and drop to my knees in the very back corner, wedging myself between the gun safe and the wall. My hands shake so hard it takes me two tries to pull up Roman's phone number.
"Hey, baby," he says when he answers on the third ring, his voice soft and tired. There's a lot of background noise like a large group of people all talking at once. Phones ring in an incessant cycle.
"Roman," I sob as soon as I hear his voice, my body shaking so hard I feel like I'm going to vibrate apart. I press myself even deeper into the corner, trying to make myself as small as possible.
"Mila? What's wrong?" His voice deepens, sounding more alert as he barks the question at me.
"There are two men in the house," I cry, trying to be quiet so they don't hear me.
"Shut the fuck up," he yells loudly to whoever is talking in the background, and then his voice softens. "Say that again, sweetheart."
