First, I'm soooooooo sorry it's been so long! I was in Florida for a week, so that's why I didn't update my stories. Second, many MANY thanks to all my reviewers! You guys kick ass!!!
Suze's POV:
"Pregnancy sucks." I groaned, lowering myself onto the couch in our living room. Paul smiled sympathetically as I did so, helping me get comfortable. I was roughly 8 months along, and the doctors kept telling me it wouldn't be too long before the baby was born.
"I'm sorry, Suze." Paul said, now rubbing my neck. "If there's anything I can do, just say so."
He's such a sweetie. Throughout every aspect of my pregnancy, he's been helpful and sweet, doing anything to make me more comfortable. Even if that meant buying new vases for the millions of white roses I'd acquired. Paul never asked where they came from. I think he knew somewhat, but didn't say anything.
I hadn't talked to Jesse directly since the say we'd almost made love. I'd go to the rectory to see him, and Father Dom would tell me I'd just missed him. I'd leave a rose for him, and then the next morning, I'd find a white rose on my nightstand. Jesse always came at night. I think he was partially avoiding me.
I lied against Paul's chest on the couch with my eyes closed. I sighed contently as he rubbed my enormous stomach, and then murmured, "I love you, Suze."
"I love you too, Paul." I whispered back. I could feel myself drifting off to sleep, very peaceful, when suddenly, I heard a Thump! against the windows, followed by breaking glass and the sounds of men grunting.
"Suze, go out to the car, go to your parent's house!" Paul said in a hushed whisper.
I got up faster than I have in weeks, and waddled to the front door. I wasn't about to argue with him if people were breaking in. I grabbed my purse and opened the door...to see more men trying to break in the front way.
The man I saw first was either late 40s or early 50s, fat and probably balding. I couldn't tell because he was wearing a black ski mask over his face, black jeans, and a black sweater. He smiled (at least, I think he did. The mouth cutout in his mask went up a bit) and said, "Well, well, boys! We gots ourselves a real treat tonight!" He looked me over like Ghandi would have looked over a 7 course dinner during his hunger-strike.
Before I could speak, he'd put a big, meaty paw over my mouth and dragged himself in the door. "So, basically, you twos are gonna do what we say, and you'll probably live. Our boss ain't gonna be happy if yous are still livin', but I ain't got the supplies for cement shoes and a trip to the ocean."
Oh fuck, cement shoes and a trip to the ocean? Why did I just get an image of that scene in the Godfather where they unwrap the dead fish? Oh god, oh god...I doubled over suddenly, a sharp pain ripping through me. I was aware of water now encasing my feet, and I glanced down to see...
My water had broke! Those freaking intruders caused my water to break!
"Shit!" I swore loudly. "Look, you guys can do whatever the hell it is you want, but please, just let us go to the hospital!" I pleaded.
Paul was now holding me protectively. I bit back a scream as a contraction hit, and the guy looked at us sympathetically. "We'll let you go. Silva ain't gonna be none to happy if we hurt the lil lady."
Had I not been in labor, I would have found it odd that his boss's name was Silva, and probably would have asked questions. But I was a little preoccupied with the fact that a human life was trying to come out of me.
Paul didn't waste any time though. He grabbed my pre-packed back from the hall closet and hurried me to the car. I got in and started doing the breathing exercises they taught us in lamaze, until we got to the hospital.
It seemed like an eternity passed before the baby was born. Then, suddenly, there was a tiny baby cry, and the doctor had handed me my baby girl. There were tears streaming down both Paul and I's faces.
"She's beautiful, like her mother." Paul whispered. He stroked my hair and then kissed our baby's forehead before kissing mine. "What do you want to name her?" We had it narrowed down to two names: Jessica Emily or Lindsey Michelle.
"Both names are fine by me, you pick." I whispered, watching my baby shut her eyes for the first time.
A few days later, Paul and I took Lindsey Michelle Slater home.
Paul had gone back there the day after the robbery to check things out. Apparently, they had only been interested in scaring us, because nothing was missing. The kitchen window was broken, but boarded over until it could get fixed. Whoever our intruders were, they were a lot of talk and very little action.
"Suze, do you remember what that guy said their boss's name was?" Paul asked me one night, about two months after we'd brought Lindsey home. Lindsey was sleeping contently in the bassinet next to our bed.
"Uh, not really sweetie." I said. "I barely remember this morning, let alone two months ago."
"I think it was something like Silva." Paul said quietly, pulling me into his arms. "You don't think it was Rico, do you?"
"How many times have I asked you not to refer to him as that?" I sighed. "And, no, I don't think it was. Jesse's been gone for 2 and a half years."
"Yeah, I know." Paul said, kissing the sensitive spot of skin where my neck and jawbone met. I let out a tiny moan, trying not to wake Lindsey. She had finally started to sleep through the night, I wasn't going to risk it! "I just can't help thinking he found a way back or something..."
"Paul, you think too much..." I whispered, pulling his face down and kissing him on the lips. Paul's tongue danced across my lips, begging for entrance. I opened my mouth and let him in, massaging his tongue with mine for quite some time. I wrapped my arms around his neck and ran my fingers through his hair, letting out soft moans occasionally. One of Paul's hands was stroking the small of my back in circles, and the other was busy caressing my left breast under my shirt. We broke apart long enough to toss away our night clothes, and then started making out again.
"Oh god, Paul..." I moaned as he traveled down my body, kissing every inch of skin. I wriggled underneath him, feeling him get harder as I did so, and moved my hand down to his manhood and began to stroke him.
Whoever said sex died after a couple had children?
The next morning, I awoke to bright sunlight streaming in through the windows. Lindsey was laying in her bassinet, looking around and giggling at random things. Paul was still fast asleep next to me, with his strong arms around my waist, holding me protectively. I felt very safe and very happy.
"Good morning, Susannah." I jumped- thankfully without waking Paul- at the Spanish-laced voice. Standing in the doorway to my room was Jesse.
"Jesse!" I cried quietly, pulling on my robe before getting up and running to him. I gave him a hug, but nothing more.
"Glad to see you weren't hurt, querida." Jesse said, mostly to my hair.
"Hurt?"
"From the break-in."
"Oh." I sighed. "No, I'm fine. It made my water break, but that's OK because Lindsey is healthy as can be." I said, looking at my daughter. I went and picked her up. "Follow me to the kitchen, I have to heat up a bottle."
Jesse and I walked to the kitchen in silence. I prayed Paul wouldn't wake up and find us.
I sat at the table feeding Lindsey while Jesse just stood there, staring. "Why did you come here, Jesse?" I asked. Surely there was a reason for why he'd shown up suddenly?
He remained silent, just stood there staring at me. "I'm not sure, Susannah." he said, after a very long time. "But I should go."
And just like that, he was gone. Out the back door and gone. I sighed and burped Lindsey, then went back upstairs to my sleeping husband.