I continue to watch her as I grab some of the first aid supplies from my pack and doctor up the few cuts and scrapes I acquired during my battle with Brett. She doesn’t say anything, but she seems focused on the task at hand. It takes her a while to get through it all, and I just let her do her thing until she finally sets down the comb.
Standing from the edge of the bed, I head over to my pack and pull out my woobie. I take Hannah through the doorway into the small bedroom, climb into the bed, and scoot back toward the wall. Hannah tentatively lies down on her back beside me. She doesn’t look in my direction, and her body is stiff.
I pull the woobie around my shoulders and cover her with it. I want to hold her close to me, but I’m almost afraid to touch her. I want to help her feel safe, but I’m not sure where I should put my arm. I could slide it between her stomach and her tits, but that seems weird to me—like my arm will be pinned between. If I put it around her stomach, it will be a constant reminder of what she’s been through. I’m having a hard enough time trying not to think about whose child she might be carrying. I meant it when I told Christine I’d help Hannah raise the baby as if it were my own, but I can’t help the thoughts that run through my head.
The baby could be Brett’s or Caesar’s. It could be the progeny of some other nameless, faceless man who abused her. How is she even going to be able to raise it? What if she doesn’t want to? What if she refuses to?
“This is a woobie,” Hannah says suddenly. She looks up at me with wide eyes, and her shocked expression makes me smile.
“Yeah, it’s my woobie.”
“Don’t make fun of the woobie.” Her tone is serious, but it makes me smile.
“Yeah, you better not.” I chuckle.
She tightens her grip around the edge of the woobie and pulls it close to her shoulder. Settling her head against my shoulder, she lets out a long sigh. I tighten my arm around her for a second, but I don’t want to put too much pressure on her belly, so I relax again.
“Falk had a woobie.” Her voice is so quiet, I can barely hear her.
Her words make me feel cold.
“It’s me, Hannah. It’s Falk.”
“I know,” she whispers, “but this is a dream.”
“I swear I’m real, and I’m here. You aren’t dreaming.”
She looks at my face and narrows her eyes a little. She reaches up, stroking a single finger from my temple to my jaw. She touches my eyebrows, the bridge of my nose, and then my lips. When she takes her hand away, she sighs.
“When I wake up, will you still be here?”
“Absolutely,” I tell her. “I’m going to stay right here the whole time. I’m not going to let go of you. When you wake up, I’ll be right in this spot.”
“Okay.” She doesn’t seem completely convinced, but I feel the tension in her muscles wane as she rolls to her side, her back to me, and closes her eyes.
I listen to her breaths until I’m sure she’s asleep. Pressing my chest against her back, I close my eyes. I’m mentally and physically exhausted, but I still can’t sleep. There are too many thoughts running through my head, and I don’t know what to do with any of them.
I need to get Hannah completely out of the Atlanta area. I have no doubt of that. There are too many men at that camp who know who she is. I could never recognize them all, and the likelihood of running into any of them again is too great to take that risk.
Somehow, I need to prepare for childbirth.
But before I can do any of that, I have to find Caesar and kill him.
*****
I’m not sure how long I’ve slept, but I’m sure I’ve been in the same position the whole time. I shift my hips a bit to get comfortable, but it doesn’t help. I’m not moving even though I have to pee. I told Hannah I’d be right here when she woke up, and I’m not about to go back on my word.
Settling back with my head just above hers, I hold her closer to me. I inhale, grateful for the clean scent of her skin and hair. I wish I had some of the fruity-smelling shampoo she used back at my apartment. I can’t remember the brand, but I liked the smell. If she can remember the name of it, I’ll try to find some later.
Hannah rolls slightly and digs her fingers into my arm for a moment. She grunts softly as she shifts her hips and reaches down to rub her stomach. She stretches, pressing her back against my chest, and her eyes fly open.
She jerks away from me, and I have to tighten my grip to keep her from falling off the bed. Her gaze darts from my arm around her to the woobie covering the lower half of us and finally to my face.
“I’m awake.” Hannah looks from my face to the room around her and then back to me.
I’m not sure if she’s asking a question or making a statement.
“You’re awake.” I try to smile, but I feel apprehensive. I have no idea how she is going to react.