The Crash

by Freida McFadden

Soon, I’m going to be rich beyond my wildest dreams. And it’s all because of the baby growing inside me.

Every woman has her own weird pregnancy cravings. Mine is tuna fish. Ever since my second trimester started and the nausea went away, I have been craving tuna.

As a result, I have informally named my fetus Little Tuna.

I haven’t seen her face yet, I already love her. I want her to have a better life than I’ve had and all the advantages I never got to have. And I’ll do whatever I have to do to get it for her. That’s why I don’t even feel one scrap of guilt about the payday coming my way.

None of this is his job. His job is not to bring me Chinese food or adorable baby clothes. The reason he is here has nothing to do with any of that. It has everything to do with the contents of the leather briefcase that he left near my front door. That’s the only reason he is here and the only reason he is ever here.

That was when I met a man in a dark suit who offered to buy me a drink. He was handsome in a clean-cut sort of way with an expensive haircut and chiseled features, and his effortless charm convinced me to accept the drink. He told me he was in town for an important business deal—only there for the one night.

However, he had Jackson reach out to make me a very intriguing offer. A boatload of money—enough to support me and our child and then some. I wouldn’t have to worry about rent, about childcare, or even about college tuition for my daughter. Simon would pay for all of that. And all I would have to do was sign a nondisclosure agreement, promising that nobody besides Simon and me (and Jackson) would know he was the father of my child.

He gives me a reassuring smile, and I can’t help but think that I wish it had been Jackson I met that night at the bar by the ski lodge. I

would happily give up the monster offer from Simon for a chance at starting a family with a great guy like Jackson.

I’ve been having nightmares. I don’t remember exactly what happens in them, but each one ends with Simon’s handsome face hovering over mine. He stares intently into my eyes while his own flash with determination. I wake up shaking with fear that goes down to my very core. (And then I have to get up to pee.) So yeah, my sleep is crap.

And now it feels like the floodgates have opened. I remember more—Simon whispering in my ear that we should “get out of here,” my head lolling in the back seat of his Porsche as he drove back to my hotel, him practically carrying me to the room. The terrifying part is that if I hadn’t come face-to-face with Simon and smelled his sickening cologne, I might not have remembered any of it.

“You are going to be very sorry, sweetheart,” he says. “And even sorrier if you try to go to the police. It’s your word against mine, and nobody will believe you. You don’t have one ounce of proof, and I will make sure you get destroyed in court. When this is all over, I’ll be suing you for defamation.”

Can a person freeze to death in a car? Considering how cold it is at this moment, I believe it could be possible.

I can’t get free from this car. I can’t walk. I have no food or water. The temperature is steadily dropping as my car becomes buried under a mound of snow. I’m going to die here.

slows to a stop right behind my car. I expect the driver to kill the engine, but instead, they flick on their high beams. Bright light floods the car, and all of a sudden, I get an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. It’s hard to see the truck anymore because of the bright light, but I can make out a shadow emerging from the vehicle.

I don’t want to unlock the door. I’m completely helpless right now, and although I need to be saved, I don’t want to be saved by this man. But at the same time, what am I supposed to do? Stay in the car and freeze to death?

“Tegan, honey,” Polly says, placing her warm hand on my ice-cold one, “I’m a nurse, and I’m going to make sure you’re okay tonight. And then in the morning, we will get you straight to the hospital.”

Nope I don’t trust it

“We should put her in the basement.” An alarm bell goes off in the back of my head. “The basement?”

Even with a broken ankle and the snow outside, when I was upstairs, it felt like I could leave when I wanted. But now that I’m down in the basement, escape is much more difficult—if not impossible.

there’s another odor that lingers in the room. One that’s hard to put my finger on at first, but then I finally figure it out. It’s the sickening smell of decay. Like someone

died down here.

What if this basement was used for a different purpose? What if I am not the first visitor to lie in this bed? I wonder if the last person to occupy this bed made it out alive.

“I’m sorry, but this is my baby, and it’s my choice. If you have something stronger, I want

to take it. I’m going to lose my mind if I have to lie here like this all night.”

I had thought I’d left my phone behind in the car by accident, but I’m not so sure anymore. I always keep that pepper spray in my purse, and the fact that it’s gone means someone took it out.

I don’t know why he did it, but there’s no good reason he would have robbed me of both a means of communicating and defending myself.

I feel a stab of guilt. Little Tuna and I are connected by our bloodstream, and anything I take, she’ll get a dose of too. There is a small list of medications that are safe to take during pregnancy, and I’m sure whatever Polly has in her hand is not on that list.

Yea let’s not take those.

I had been about to pop the two pills into my mouth, but something stops me. Yes, I’m in pain. But Tuna isn’t in pain. Tuna is counting on me not to put anything in my body that could hurt her, and here I am, popping pain pills like candy.

I think back to the lunch Polly made for me. I had attributed the sour taste I had in my mouth to our conversation, but now I’m not so sure. Is it possible she slipped something into my lunch, and that’s why I slept so long? Is she capable of doing something like that?

“We will get you out of here,” she assures me. “It’s only one more night. You have my word.” But that’s what she said last night.

“Are we really trapped by the snow?” I lift my swollen eyes to meet hers. “Or is that just what Hank is making you say to me?”

My ankle is definitely broken. I can’t even pretend it might not be. And instead of having it set in a cast or repaired surgically, I am lying in this bed while it heals completely wrong. This delay in getting medical treatment might cost me my ability to walk normally.

I lift my face to look up at Polly’s eyes, staring down at me. Her eyes are bright green, but in the dim overhead light, they look much darker. And a sudden terrible certainty goes through my head: I’m going to die here.

“You’re a real piece of work, Polly.” His lips twist into a grimace. “You think I don’t know how you went to the crazy house two years ago? I know. Everyone knows. You’re the last person I want around my kid!”

Hank means well. He’s the best man I’ve ever met—there’s nobody better. And he would have been a great father. It’s all my fault he’ll never get to experience that.

But one thing he didn’t warn me about is that she’s very pregnant. I don’t notice it until her coat falls open. Her abdomen bulges out in the flickering lights of the candles I lit around the living room.

And despite how absolutely miserable she looks, I feel a sharp jab of envy.

I can’t let that bother me though. This girl is injured and will be spending the night here, and I will be her host. If I can’t handle that, I’ve got serious problems.

Ha!

Some of us would give absolutely anything to get pregnant. And other women get pregnant without hardly trying,

then poison the baby before it even has a chance at life. It makes me furious.

Oh she crazy crazy

I slip the pepper spray into my pocket as well, nestled next to the cell phone. Not that I think that girl would hurt us, but I don’t like the idea of a guest in our home having a weapon.

I’ll never forget the look on my husband’s face when he picked me up from work two years ago. That was after the failed IVF treatments that emptied out our bank accounts. And it was after the failed adoption, when the teenage mother changed her mind after she held her little baby girl in her arms and decided she couldn’t give her up after all.

His words were echoing in my ears the next day when I had to work an overnight shift in the newborn nursery at the hospital. I should have refused, given how I was feeling. But I thought I was stronger than my feelings. I thought it might lift my spirits to be around all those new babies. I was wrong.

After what happened that day, I lost my job at the hospital. I’m lucky they didn’t lock me up. I loved that job, and as hard as it was leaving, it was even harder to admit why I had to leave. I usually tell people that Hank wanted me to stay home to focus on our family. Unfortunately, The Incident meant there would be no family—we had to withdraw our name from the waiting list for adoptions and foster children. We would never become parents.

Hank may be satisfied without a child, but I’m not. I never will be.

I won’t lie to him. I’m not glad that it’s just the two of us. I will never be happy with our situation the way he apparently can be.

He is going along with this, but when tonight comes and Tegan is still in the basement, he’s going to start asking a lot more questions. When that happens, he may not like the answers quite as much, but when it comes down to it, he’s going to do exactly what I tell him to do. He doesn’t have a choice.

It’s easier if she’s groggy and pliable. Especially since I have no intention of taking her to the hospital today or tomorrow. Or ever.

“Three days.” Hank holds up three fingers, one of which contains his gold wedding band. “Three days, and she either goes home or to the hospital. I mean it, Polly.”

Except in three days, nothing will have changed. Hank still won’t want to end up in prison. Tegan will still be an irresponsible child who doesn’t deserve to raise a beautiful daughter. And I’ll still be barren.