Page 32 of Escaping the King
I did, for one brief second, wish I could reach through my stomach and rip out my womb.
A second after that—I knew I'd do anything and everything in the world to keep that little being safe.
Some kind of protective momma bear instinct came over me.
Thank goodness.Or I'd probably still be there—we'd still be there.Who knows, Sergio might even have gotten me pregnant again.
“You okay, Giselle?”I felt a warm hand on my shoulder.
I shook myself out of the horrible fantasy.
“Yes, I'm sorry.Just tired,” I tried to explain away my mind drifting off.
She squeezed my shoulder and let go.“You know, there's a good motel right next to us.It's nothing fancy.But you might want to take a load off.Driving sleepy is never a good idea.Especially with such precious cargo.”Sheila nodded at Dani and gave me a caring, sad smile.
I nodded and said, “I'll think about it.Thank you.”
Right now, the thought of not having to drive all night was more than tempting.I was getting tired.
No.
I was beyond tired.
I looked down at my coffee and then added the cream and sugar I needed.I'd see how I was after I drank this.And maybe one more cup.
My frolicking with Carlo was beginning to catch up with me.
The stress of everything coming down on me at once didn't exactly help, either.
Watching Stefan fuck my nanny had hurt.
A lot.
If there was some way to bleach that memory out of my brain—I'd gladly do it.
And the fighting with him afterward hadn't been pretty.
Add in the secret packing and organizing I had to do in order to escape—and no wonder I was feeling more tired by the second.
I yawned and then took a healthy sip from my cup.
“Momma tir-nerd.”Dani pointed at me with her yellow crayon.She sat raised up on her knees.
“Yes, Momma's tired.”I stifled another yawn.
“Me no tir-nerd.”Dani shook her head gravely and it made me laugh.
“No, of course, you're not tired at three o'clock in the morning at a truck stop.That would be silly, right?”
She nodded and dropped the yellow crayon on the table.I helped as she reached for her cup.With the amount of sugar in this juice, she'd probably be up for hours.
She hummed a happy tune while taking long drags on her straw.
“Not too much or you won't eat.”As soon as I'd said it—I knew how stupid that sounded.Was I really concerned about her not being able to eat massive quantities of truck stop food?
Good grief.
Maybe I was too tired to drive.
