Chapter 87: You Get Both

Megan stood just inside the women’s shelter entrance, adjusting the strap of her small crossbody bag. She wore a loose, flowy maternity blouse that hid her growing five-month bump and a pair of comfortable dark blue jeans. Despite her pregnancy, she still opted to wear her high heels. Her heart was already racing.

“You sure you don’t need anyone to ride with you?” the shelter counselor asked kindly.

“I’m good,” Megan replied with a calm smile she didn’t fully feel. “It’s just a regular check-up at Emory Midtown. I’ll grab an Uber back afterward and maybe pick up a few things.”

The counselor nodded. “Take your time. You’ve earned it.”

Megan stepped outside, the Atlanta afternoon sun warm on her skin. She walked the half-block to the main road, then deliberately turned the corner toward the rear employee access area of the adjacent community center. Once out of sight of the shelter’s front cameras, she quickened her pace, slipped through a side gate, and ordered an Uber from the back parking lot.

She kept her head down, sunglasses on, until the silver Toyota pulled up. As the driver merged into traffic, Megan glanced behind them. A black Mercedes sedan that had been idling near the shelter made the same turn...

“Hey,” Megan said, getting the driver’s attention.

“Yeah?” the driver responded.

“You see that black Mercedes behind us?”

The driver looked in his rearview mirror. “Yeah, I see it.”

“Those are private investigators that my ex-husband sent after me. I’ll give you a one-hundred-dollar tip if you can lose them before heading to the destination,” Megan said pointedly.

“Done deal,” the driver answered.

Without missing a beat, the driver made an immediate right turn. The Mercedes had to wait for several cars to go by and cut someone off to make the same turn. The Uber driver made two quick lane changes and then made a left at the next major intersection just when the light turned red. Megan and the driver looked back and after another minute of driving, the Mercedes was nowhere to be seen.

She exhaled shakily. Lost them.

“Thanks so much,” Megan said to the driver. “I’m adding your tip now.”

“Appreciate that,” the driver said looking at her through the rearview mirror. “Happy I could help. Sorry you have to deal with a shitty ex-husband.”

“You have no idea...” Megan said, looking out the window.

The Uber dropped her at Emory University Hospital Midtown’s main entrance. She walked inside, took the elevator up to the OB floor. She checked in and sat in the waiting room for about fifteen minutes. When her name was called, she went back and sat through a quick, legitimate twenty-minute appointment. They checked her blood pressure and did a heartbeat check for the baby while asking standard questions, which she had satisfactory answers for. Everything was fine. The baby was growing strong.

But Megan wasn’t just there for the appointment. She was there for the cover.

She stopped by the bathroom, pulled out a large nondescript gray hoodie from her bag and slipped it on over her blouse. She then left the hospital through a side exit that fed directly into the connected hospital garage where she called for another Uber.

She met the Uber from a different pickup zone, got in, and set off to Doraville, Georgia.

By the time the Uber turned into the apartment complex, Megan’s pulse was hammering, and she nervously rubbed her wrist. The Uber driver tailgated another car through the apartment gate to avoid the hassle of calling.

Megan scanned the lot as they navigated the buildings. They eventually reached the area where Jalen’s building was and Megan spotted the marked Doraville police cruiser, that Karla had arranged for Jalen’s protection. Megan scanned further and saw no suspicious vehicles lingering nearby. No tinted sedans. No obvious watchers.

The Uber driver stopped near the building. She stepped out, thanked the driver and walked confidently toward the building. As she approached, the officer in the driver’s seat of the cruiser lowered his window and raised a hand.

“Ma’am, hold up a second.”

Megan stopped, her stomach tightening. She turned toward him, keeping her expression calm.

The officer, a middle-aged Black man with a professional but watchful demeanor, gave her a polite nod. “We’ve got extra security on this building right now. Who are you here to see?”

Megan didn’t hesitate. “Jalen Moss.”

The officer studied her for a moment, noting her pregnant belly and the nervous but determined look in her eyes. “Alright. For his safety, I need to confirm that. Can you call him really quick and put him on speaker?”

Megan nodded, already pulling out her phone. Her hands were slightly shaky as she dialed Jalen’s number. It rang twice before he picked up.

“Hey,” Jalen answered, sounding tired but warm. “You good?”

“Jalen ... I’m downstairs in your parking lot,” Megan said, her voice steady but thick with emotion. “The officer here wants to confirm I’m allowed up.”

There was a stunned pause on the other end.

“You’re ... what?” Jalen’s voice cracked with disbelief. “Megan, are you serious right now?”

“I’m here,” she said softly. “Don’t worry. I made sure I wasn’t followed. I needed to see you.”

The officer leaned closer to the phone. “Mr. Moss, this is Officer Reynolds with Doraville PD. You know this woman?”

“Yeah,” Jalen said immediately, his voice still laced with shock and something deeper. “Yeah, I know her. She’s family. Let her up, please.”

“Copy that. Have a good visit, ma’am.”

The officer gave Megan a respectful nod and raised the window. She exhaled a shaky breath of relief and headed toward the building entrance, her heels clicking as she did.

Megan climbed the stairs on foot, heart pounding harder with every step. When she reached Jalen’s door, she paused, took a deep breath, and knocked. The door opened immediately.

Jalen appeared with a confused and concerned look on his face. “Megan, what—”

Megan didn’t let him finish. She stepped forward and closed the door behind her. Then without a word, she wrapped her arms around his waist, careful of his injury, and buried her face in his chest. Jalen’s arms came around her instantly, one hand cradling the back of her head, the other resting protectively over the gentle swell of her belly.

“Baby...” he whispered in a thick voice. “You’re not supposed to be here. It’s too dangerous.”

“I don’t care,” she murmured against his shirt, her voice trembling. “I lost the PIs. I made sure. I couldn’t do it anymore, Jalen. Two weeks ... after you almost died ... I had to see you. I had to feel you.”

“Does Karla know you’re here?” Jalen asked with an eyebrow raised.

“No,” Megan said. “And I’ll tell her tomorrow. I know she’ll be mad, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t continue to be away from you. I missed you so much.

Jalen swallowed hard, pressing his lips to the top of her head. His eyes stung. “I missed you so fucking much too. Every single day. I kept thinking about you at that shelter, carrying our baby, and me stuck here not being able to do shit about it...”