Chapter 97: Esme's Help

-Molly-

I laid on my bed staring up at the ceiling for what felt like hours as I tried to find some way of getting away from here safely. The last thing I wanted to do was steal one of their cars. Paul would definitely make sure I was in prison until my baby was 18... if he let it live that long.
I growled at my morbid thoughts before I shoved them away.
Laying my hand gently on my belly, I smiled when I noticed the tiny, almost imperceptible bump. No one else would notice it, but I did. Inside that tiny bump was a flutter of a butterfly wing. As if my baby was telling me he was there and he was excited to meet me too.
“Don’t worry, little peanut. I will never let anyone hurt you,” I whispered to my baby.
The butterfly’s wing fluttered again as if to say he believed me. I relaxed into the bed and let my mind wander, hoping something would come to it.
I heard the tiny vibrations of my phone on the table next to me. When I saw the name on the screen, I couldn’t pick it up fast enough.
“Scott! Are you okay? Have you heard from Noah? What’s going on?” I asked in rapid succession.
“Yes, I’m fine. I’m at the club with Esme and Laurent. I called the police station, and Noah made bail... last night,” Scott growled.
I sat up in bed and brushed the hair out of my face. “Wait... what? LAST NIGHT?! Where the hell is he? He wasn’t at his house when I grabbed Becca. Where is he?!”
“I don’t know, but I’m going to find him and kick his ass,” Scott growled.
His voice trailed away as he spoke to someone else. A tinge of jealousy rushed through me when I heard a woman’s voice, but it quickly faded when that voice popped onto the phone.
“Molly! How are you doing, chère?!” Esme squealed into the phone.
I took the phone away from my ear and looked at it for a moment, trying to figure out if this was the same woman I had met in Paris. She sounded happy, even light-hearted, as if whatever ghosts were following her were long gone.
“I’m doing well, Esme. How are you? You sound wonderful!” I told her happily.
“I am magnifique!” she replied. “Master Laurent has finally given me my collar as well as a superbe ring. We are to wed in the spring! N’est-ce pas merveilleux??”
I laughed out loud, unable to resist her infectious happiness. “Oui, amie. That is absolutely wonderful. I’m so happy for you! Tell me EVERYTHING.”
Esme sprung into a wonderful tale of Laurent helping her overcome her fears and saving her life. After everything was over, he put his collar around her neck in front of the entire club before he got down on one knee and proposed to her. She had fallen so in love with him that he had barely finished asking the question before she was squealing out her yes.
“That is bon, amie,” I commented as soon as she was done.
I wiped a tear out of my eye as I tried not to let my misery out. The last thing Esme needed was a dark cloud over her happiness.
“Merci, merci, Molly. I wish for you to be there as well as Master Scott. Please say yes! I owe you so much for helping me that night,” Esme begged.
I hesitated. “Ummm... I-I will try, Esme. I promise.”
There was silence on the other end, as if she heard all of my darkest secrets in that moment of hesitation.
“Molly... Ça va? What is going on? Scott sounds the same when he speaks. Something is hurting you both, and I want to help.”
I couldn’t help it. As soon as Esme's sweet, empathetic tone came across the line, the dam burst. The tears began to flow as I choked out the whole story, my love for Scott, our baby, his father’s ultimatum... everything flowed out until I was hoarse from the sobbing.
“Ohhh, ma chère. Let me go get Scott, oui? You two need to talk,” Esme insisted.
“No! Please, Esme! Please don’t say a word. If Scott finds out, he will kill his father, and if he doesn’t succeed, Paul will throw us ALL out. Or worse, if Paul finds out that I AM carrying Scott’s baby, he will make sure I get rid of it, and I’m afraid of what he’ll do if I don’t agree. He can ruin us all. I just need to find a way out of here,” I pleaded with her.
Esme let out a few curse words in French that stung my ears and would have made me blush if I wasn’t so upset. “Très bien. I will help and not speak a word. But you have to promise me that you will tell Scott when you are safely away. He does not deserve to not know. That is his baby, oui? He has the right to love it too.”
“Oui! Oui! I swear I will!” I promised, feeling the lie burn my tongue.
“Bien. Let me make a quick call. Eric and Tabitha will know somewhere safe in the states for you and votre bébé, oui?” Esme promised.
“Merci! Merci, Esme. Thank you so much,” I spewed gratefully.
“Don’t thank me, Molly. I still think you are doing the wrong thing. But I will speak more when you and your child are safe. I’ll call you back in a moment,” Esme informed me before hanging up.
Pushing myself up off the bed, I started packing up a suitcase. I needed to stay busy, so I didn’t think of anything beyond the next step I needed to make or the next piece of clothing I had to make sure I had. If I allowed myself to stay still for too long, I would break down and start crying again.
“Now is the time for action,” I reminded myself repeatedly as I went through my stuff. “Not the time for feeling sorry for yourself. You need to do this, and there’s no time for remorse, guilt, or anything else but action.”
It took about an hour, but Esme did call me back. “I spoke to Tabitha, Eric’s sub. She has family out in California that would be willing to help you out. Tabitha would do it, but she will be back and forth between here and Paris. She feels it would not be safe for you and bébé. She feels it will be safer for you to be far away from this Paul.”
“Thank you! Thank you both! This means a lot to me. Thank you!” I choked out in gratitude.
“I stand by my belief, Molly. I know it is hard, but you need to give Scott his choice,” Esme tried again.
“I understand, Esme. How do I get to these friends?” I asked, changing the subject on purpose.
I didn’t need anyone else echoing the doubts in my head, not when I made up my mind.
“They live in Santa Barbara, California. Tabitha and Eric will be at the airport tomorrow afternoon. Be there, and they will fly with you to California to introduce you to Tabitha’s cousin Anita and her husband Carl,” Esme explained.
“Thank you, thank you again. I really appreciate this,” I gushed once more.
We spoke for another moment or two, but Esme seemed much more reserved now that she knew everything. I tried not to let her disapproval hurt, knowing I had much more important worries. But it still stung when I hung up the phone.
I took a deep breath and placed my hand over my abdomen once more. “We just have to get through tonight, and tomorrow evening we’ll be safe, peanut. Just a little while longer.”