Pregnant With Alpha’s Genius Twins

Chapter 44

Chapter 44 – Camping trip 1

The morning dawns bright and sunny. I turn over in my makeshift bed on the twins’ floor, seeking to escape the rays that pry into my eyes, disrupting my sleep. I give a little grunt of discontent, taking my blankets with me as I turn over. Unfortunately, I also roll over onto one of Archie’s squeaky toys, which excites the dog and sends him scurrying over.

“Go back to sleep, Archie,” I whisper, burrowing my head lower under the blankets. The puppy ignores my command and begins to wriggle with the excitement of a new day, burrowing under my covers in an attempt to kiss me good morning.

“Archie,” I sigh, giving up and opening up my blankets to pull the puppy closer. “You ruin all good attempts to sleep in.”

“It’s good,” I hear Edgar whisper, and look up to see him smiling at me from his own makeshift bed a few feet away. “We have to get up and clean up all this trash before it starts to smell.” He waves a hand at the boxes and boxes of takeout food which we have spread all over the room.

“I guess you’re right,” I say, surveying the chaos. “All good things must come to an end.”

“Before they start to smell,” Edgar agrees, scrunching his nose.

Edgar, the boys, and I have been holed up in the twins’ room since the moment the paramedics gave me the okay to go upstairs without them. We locked ourselves in here – watching movies, curling up together, ignoring the world – to help us return to a sense of normalcy, of safety, of fun.

Downstairs, we can hear the thump of the Betas tromping around the house, of Victor yelling at people on the phone. But somehow, there’s a comfort to that as well. While half of me is not thrilled at the idea

of the first floor of our little cottage overrun by what is, essentially, a military operation, the other half is glad they’re there. Nobody’s getting in with Victor downstairs.

Edgar, too, has been wonderful. The boys already liked him, but now they’ve truly warmed to him, seeing him as a protector, a friend, and a fellow fan of Thor. He also ate all the vegetables in the Chinese food, which the rest of us refused, so we see his worth there too.

As Edgar and I smile sleepily at each other, and Archie licks my nose, the door flies open. I gasp, shooting up to a sitting position, fear flooding my body.

“Oh, sorry,” Victor says, staring at me, realizing that it’s probably not a great idea to surprise someone who was attacked in their home just yesterday. “Not the best entrance, hey?”

“Um, no.” I say, my eyes wide with adrenaline and frustration. For someone so smart and in control, he does stupid things sometimes.

“Papa?” Alvin sits up, rubbing his eyes. “Did you come for movie day?”

“Movie day is over, kiddo,” Victor says, a big smile flooding his face. I realize that he entered the room this way because he is, for some reason, very excited. What’s going on? “Pack your bags!” Victor cheers, “we’re headed out!”

“What?!” Me and Ian ask at once – my voice full of shock, Ian’s full of enthusiasm.

“Yes, we’re out of here!” Victor says, pumping a fist into the air. “No more hiding in this stinky room, we’re going to go out into the world! Try something new!”

“What? Victor – this is ridiculous. What we need is to return to normalcy with his home.”

“Well, you can’t,” Victor says, pressing his lips together in an apology. “Not yet. Because I’m having the whole house reworked with top notch security – cameras, alarms, weaponry – everything you need to

be totally safe. But to do that! We have to get OUT!” He says the last sentence as an invigorating cheer. The boys fall for it, jumping up in their bed and shouting along with him in joy and excitement.

How quickly they forget the horrors of two days ago. Part of me is grateful.

Edgar and I look at each other. He shrugs, quirking his mouth in a half smile, intrigued. Content © copyrighted by NôvelDrama.Org.

I roll my eyes, giving in. “Fine. Where are we going?” I ask.

“We’re going camping!” Victor says, pumping his fist again. “It’s going to be great! Fresh air! Moonlight! Fireside stories! Smores!”

Alvin jumps up and down on the bed, shouting “I love camping! I love smores!”

“Alvin,” I say, pressing a hand to my forehead. “You’ve never been camping.”

“New adventures, mama!” Ian says, reaching for Alvin’s hands as he jumps. “I’m so excited! I’ll never sleep again!”

I groan and fall back in to my makeshift bed, covering my head with my blankets, wishing – contrarily – for a long and peaceful sleep instead.

Two hours later, we’re all packed into a van. Luckily, it’s a fancy van – one with benches that face each other, neon lights, and a sound system, the kind of van which I think are usually used for bachelorettes and other drunken parties. Not that I’d know, unfortunately. Unluckily, I’m seated facing Amelia who clearly really, really does not want to be here.

The boys, predictably, are thrilled. They spend the first hour of the ride exploring every piece of our transport – playing with the lights, digging through the fully-stocked coolers and cabinets for drinks and snacks. Victor indulges their every desire and I’m glad to see them so happy.

Amelia, however, is miserable. She has been listening to her headphones and working on her nails in silence for the entire hour that we’ve been driving. I don’t know how she has any nails left, after all of that filing. She hasn’t said a word to me, to any of us.

Edgar, who is seated next to me, nudges me with his elbow. “Stop staring,” he mouths at me silently, nodding towards Amelia. I blush to realize that, of course, I was staring at her. How could I not? It’s hard to look away from such abject misery. I smile at Edgar instead, grateful that he’s here, that Victor has granted him permission to continue as our personal body guard. I feel quite safe.

As I look out the window, I notice that the car is slowing down, turning off the main road. Our travel suddenly becomes bumpy, jerky, as we pull onto a dirt road and head into the darkness of the forest.

The boys, noticing the change in our travel, press themselves against the windows, ooh-ing and ahh- ing at everything they see, even though to me it just looks like a bunch of trees. After about a mile, the van pulls to the left and slowly comes to a stop.

Victor smiles, smacking his hands against his thighs as he declares, “We’re here! Finally, we’re here.” His excitement is palpable and even I start to feel my spirits lift. A quick look at Amelia suggests that she does not feel the same.

As we disembark one-by-one from the van, I notice two trucks full of Betas and supplies pull up behind us. Half of me is annoyed by the necessity of having to travel in such a pack, but the other half…well, the other half is very grateful to have them here.

In moments of quiet, when I’m not distracting myself with media or caring for the boys, the terror sneaks up on me. I close my eyes, reliving – just for a moment – the absolute horror of being attacked in my own home, of watching my illusion of safety shatter before me.

I feel Emily, again, smacking me to the ground, slicing my forehead open. I raise my hand to my head, feeling at my bandage – the constant reminder that it did, indeed, happen. That I wasn’t safe then, and perhaps never will be again.

“Evelyn?” I open my eyes to see Victor standing next to me, his eyes full of concern. “Are you okay? Do you need anything?”

I give him a small smile. “No, Victor, I’m fine. I just…it’s been a hard couple of days. I’m still a little freaked out.”

“Probably an understatement,” he murmurs, holding my stare, his hands in his pockets. I can see, without him saying, the guilt that he feels written all over him. I widen my smile, seeking to communicate that I’ve moved on, that everything’s okay.

Victor sees right through me. “It’s okay, Evelyn. You don’t have to be okay right now.”

My smile faulters and I let my face fall into what feels their natural lines today – worry, sad, tired. Victor puts a hand on my shoulder and I feel grateful for his support.

“Do you feel safe here? Would you rather be somewhere else?”

I look around the forest, at the camp which Victor has taken us to. I’m surprised to see that there are cabins here – rough ones built from logs, merely four walls and a roof, rather than any truly protective structure. There’s also a stone bathhouse with running water and a central fire pit with attached hearth and chimney for cooking.

“Actually,” I say, charmed by the location and enjoying the feel of the mountain breeze running over my skin. “I think this is exactly where I want to be. I can’t say why. I just…feel it.”

“Good,” Victor says. “I hoped you would feel like that. I feel just the same, every time I come here.”