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"Damn it!" I bark at him. "I'm goin—" I swallow back the bile that's rising up my throat. "Throw up," I whisper. His grip immediately loosens on my arms and I dart to the trashcan.  
    He's there in an instant, pulling back my hair so that I don't vomit on it. Due to the empty state of my stomach, it doesn't last long, and I slink to the floor against the wall, drained and exhausted. Resting my head against the wall, I close my eyes. I feel a cool hand against my cheek and I flinch. A completely involuntary reaction.  
    "You should really go to the hospital," he says quietly as he pulls his hand back.  
    "For what? Ain't nothing they can do."
    "In less that twenty-four hours, I've watched you faint and now vomit into a trashcan. You need to go to the hospital."
    Oh for fuck’s sake. "Damn it, Mikah, no. I don't need to go to the hospital. I'm pregnant, not diseased."  
    A harsh growl comes from between his lips. Thank God. Nothing scares a man away like the words I’m pregnant . I stand up, ready to try to leave again, knowing full well that he won’t follow me this time.  
    I catch one last glimpse of his beautiful face. "Goodbye, Mikah," I say and take a step away from him.

SEVEN
    I'm finally able to make it to the skyway and cross over to the next building. I follow the signs to an elevator and push the down button. A few other people join me in waiting.  
    I hear Mikah's voice talking to someone. "She went this way. You can't miss her – she has bright red hair, long, down to the small of her back."  
    I sink down into the crowd a little bit. The people around me are very pointedly staring at me. It's obvious that they know he's talking about me.  
    "Damn it, Vivienne," I hear him say, farther away this time.  
    Finally the elevator arrives. I'm quick to jump in. The rest of the little crowd follows behind me and I push G for ground level. Please, let me get out of here and on the bus before he catches up to me.  
    It takes but a few moments before the doors are opening on the first floor. As soon as they do, I see Mikah across the lobby, frantically looking for me. I draw my hood up over my head, hoping it’ll hide my red hair. But it's a pretty day outside, and the hood may draw more attention. Damn it. I look to my left and spy an exit. Phew – I can slide that way and avoid him.  
    I put my head down and start moving along swiftly. All of a sudden I hear a man shout, "Blake!" followed by a whistle and the snapping of fingers far too close to me. I speed up.  
    I’m almost to the exit when a hand wraps around my upper arm. The grip is hard, painful. As he spins me around my hand comes up reflexively, hard and fast, and connects with his cheek.  
    "Shit!" he spats as his head snaps to the left with the impact of my hand. "Damn it, Viv, don't fight me."  
    "Jesus, Mikah, I'm—I didn—" I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes as I watch him rub his cheek. Regret fires through my heart as I realize that coming here was a really bad mistake. The tears spill over and I try to pull away from him.  
    "Hey, it's alright. I took you by surprise." He pulls me back toward him and wraps his arms around me.  
    I come completely unglued. Tears begin streaming, hot and heavy, down my cheeks as he cups me against his chest. Embarrassed by my lack of self-control, I push against him, trying to pull myself out of his arms.  
    "Vivienne, please, it's alright. Don't run."  
    The tears come even harder, stealing what little strength I had to begin with, and my legs begin to shake.  
    I give in to his embrace. It's strangely comforting being in his arms. I feel safe and protected, like nothing I've ever felt before.  
    With his hand over my left ear and my right pressed tight against him, I can't make out what he's saying, but I can feel the vibrations of his voice. He lifts his hand and says very gently, "I'm going to pick you up."
    "No...no, no, no," I whine, but my protest is weak, and he ignores me.