Fake Daddy To Be

* * *

In my dream, I’m standing in a kitchen that’s incredibly luxe. There’s a baby in the sling on my back but suddenly, she starts to cry and squirm. I try to twist around to comfort her, but no matter which way I turn, I can’t reach the child. She keeps slipping from my fingers.

After a few moments, there are footsteps thundering toward us and Channing stands there, his face red with rage. In a bellow, he says, “Shut that kid up or get her out of here!”

* * *

I snap awake. My face is wet with tears, my heart is pounding in my chest, and I have no idea where I am. Slowly, it comes back to me. I’m on my way to San Diego to start over with a baby in my belly. I rub my hands over my face. In the seat directly behind mine, a woman tries to shush her child, while one of the other passengers huffs and crosses his arms over his chest.

I shake my head and glance out the window. It’s pitch-black outside, and I can’t make out anything. Exhausted, I close my eyes and rest my forehead on the window again.

But despite my best intentions, sleep won’t come. I doze off once or twice, but the slightest bump jolts me awake. By the time the sun rises behind the bus, illuminating deserted fields and flat lands, all traces of sleep have gone. The bus stops to refuel, and I get out to stretch my legs, gently caressing my little bump. Almost there, I soothe. Just stay with me.

I’m not sure where we are, and at this point, I don’t care. Though I’m wide awake, my body is full of aches and pains as if I’m seventy, and not twenty. Hopefully, once we get to San Diego, I can stretch more and feel better.

Once we’re back on the bus, I pull out a novel. Reading while moving has always been difficult, but I’ll do anything to get my mind off my current situation. Fortunately, the book’s good. It’s an action and adventure thriller, with lots of intrigue and espionage. I’m just at a part where the hero’s battling the villain on top of a train, and it’s exciting. The train rushes into a tunnel, and rumbling fills the hero’s ears, deafening in the dark space. Suddenly, I look up because the rumbling is real. It’s not just good storytelling, nor is it my imagination.

I look up, confused. Where is that sound coming from? Other passengers hear it too, and we look at each other with confusion. Soon, the rumbling becomes a steady thwap-thwap sound, like helicopter blades. What the heck?

I put down my book and look out of my window. Oh my god. There’s a huge black helicopter above us, like a giant hornet in the sky, and it’s getting dangerously close to the bus. Someone starts screaming, and chaos erupts. A few passengers rush to the windows to see what’s going on while others cower in their seats.

“What’s happening?” James Bond shouts. “Are we being attacked?”

“I think I see guns on the helicopter!” a woman screams. “They’re pointing at us!”

Meanwhile, the bus driver swerves left and right on the road, trying to dodge the hornet but it’s impossible. The helicopter comes closer and closer, until it finally stops about two hundred feet ahead of us on the highway. Fortunately, there’s no one else around and the bus comes to a squealing halt.

But before any of us can do anything, a figure jumps out of the helicopter and comes barreling towards us in a mad rush. I stare. OMG, it’s Channing! He looks incredibly handsome, but also incredibly angry. As I watch with an open mouth, he yanks the bus door open and then glares at us all, his form hulking and huge. Immediately, he spies me.

“I want her,” he hisses.

The other passengers turn to stare.

“Go!” whispers one woman. “Sacrifice yourself for us!”

“He’s a terrorist, but don’t worry, we’ll call 9-1-1 immediately. We’re calling emergency even now,” the Russian operative adds in a hiss. “You’ll be fine.”

I stand slowly.

“Don’t worry everyone, everything’s going to be okay,” I manage in a somewhat even voice. “I’m just going to grab my backpack, and we’ll get out of your hair.”

The other passengers are completely still as I smile, trying to appear normal. Then, as promised, I swing my bag over my shoulder and make my way to the front of the bus. Immediately, Channing’s hand lands on my shoulder, heavy and hard.

“Oh my god, she’s being kidnapped,” I hear someone whisper. “We are witnessing a crime.”

At that, I have to stop.

“No, no kidnapping here,” I say with a smile. “I’m okay. Don’t worry, just let me handle this. Carry on, please. Sorry for the interruption.”

We make our way off the bus, and Channing doesn’t even hesitate. He basically forces me to march forward across the asphalt before opening the door to a waiting black car and shoving me inside. Well, this definitely looks like a kidnapping scenario. The alpha male is certainly not pretending, that’s for sure.