Page 30 of Claimed By the Pakhan

10

FIA

Four days have passedof me sleeping, eating and peeing constantly because of how much weight is being pressed into my bladder.

I smooth my hand over my baby bump, still waiting for the twins to kick. The doctor said I should be expecting it soon.

Speaking of expecting things, I’m booked to see the midwife later today so she can perform an ultrasound and track any changes.

Hopefully, there are only good ones.

I want these babies to come out healthy more than I want my memories back, and I’m fighting through the brain fog like a trained warrior, determined to come out victorious.

For example, I’m still in the dark about how me and Emil met. Every time I ask him, he shakes the question off.

“Use your brain,”he says.

Brilliant fucking advice.

Desire consumes me every time we’re in a room together. My heart beats erratically, my entire body melting. The only thing my brain is good for at the moment is remembering what happened a few nights ago when he caught me red-handed. My pussy still clings to the sensation of his tongue, the way it swept over my folds, wrapping around my clit.

Remembering that just makes me hungry for more. Thankfully, work has been keeping him busy. He flashes me smoldering looks across the kitchen as I’m making myself breakfast, comments something dirty every now and again, but he’s out of my hair for the most part, which gives me ample opportunity to escape.

Except, I find myself barricaded in his house this morning. I pull on the front door, yanking it open as hard as I can. Eventually, I collapse against the wall, catching my breath after the hardest gym workout of my life.

I’m completely locked in.

I shove myself up the other side, groaning. Him trapping me in his house reinstates the fact that I have to get out. The fear in Chloe’s eyes when I met her for coffee, plus Emil literallymurderinga person, tells me I need to get out, even though my body is screaming at me to stay.

He could find me again, but at least I know not to check in at the same hotel again.

I march upstairs, which is becoming quite the challenge with two twins. I press a hand to my lower abdomen, walking into the bedroom. The window is open, the smell of sap permeating the air.

I walk toward it, sliding my finger over the glass and anxiously peering out. Escaping will come with some parkour, which I did the first time I escaped, climbing over that godforsaken gate.

I heave the window all the way up and begin, ducking under the glass, stepping down onto the ridge. I’d be screwed if it wasn’t for the veranda underneath me. I find my step and lower myself down from the window, flexing my fingertips as I hold onto the windowsill.

Being below average height throws a slight spanner in the works, but after finding purchase, planting both feet firmly on the veranda edge, I release the windowsill, finding my center of gravity so I can lower myself down.

I gasp, scrambling down from the veranda edge. I’m a short leap away from freedom, and this time I’m making a promise to myself to actually find it again.

After having it stripped away for three years, I’m ready to return to the world… I think. Walking back into the office after a year’s absence will trigger some questions. I’m not sure I even still have a job, but being five months pregnant with amnesia won’t stop me from doing what I love.

Work is the only thing in my life that makes sense.

I check the time on my watch, sneaking out of the side exit. I weave through trees, conscious that Emil could be watching, since he always seems to be around when I least expect. I make myself dizzy from looking over my shoulder constantly.

After concluding that the coast is clear, I run through the trees, zigzagging around each one, searching for the road. The property isn’t gated from the sides, only from the front. Emil really chose the most remote place to live in Seattle.

I head toward the tarmac, growing closer to the road since it’s finally come into view.

I catch my breath when I make it to the tree line, one hand on my heart, the other on my stomach. Sprinting through the forest on uneven turf, five months pregnant, definitely comes close to being impossible.

I keep to the tree line, using the vegetation to keep myself camouflaged as I navigate my way to the bus stop. If my sources are correct, I have a half hour to wait until the next bus arrives.

Exhausted and with a full bladder from all the running, I unbutton my pants and pee in the forest. These conflicting thoughts need to disappear soon so I can begin the rest of my life, raise the twins, and never look back, wondering what could have been…

“Oh my god,” gasps Chloe when she sees me stumble out of the bus.