Chelsey stumbled out the back door of the gas station, barely able to keep her feet. Her belly swayed low between her knees with the form of Officer Bennett curled up inside. She placed a hand on the concrete wall, trying to steady herself as once again he strained to move his arms and legs and she had to summon up all her strength to clench her abdominal muscles against him, squeezing him tightly until he gave a sharp gasp and went limp again. She stayed there, breathing heavily for a minute, then rubbing her side.

“My God, just settle down, will you?” she muttered under her breath.

As he was, curled into a fetal ball facing her spine, he was about as comfortable as she could make him for the time being. He was heavy though, nearly twice as heavy as Aaron and already the effects of the drug were wearing off on him, which was unusual even for a strong man. There was no way she would be able to sleep like this. She slumped down into a sitting position where she was, feeling him shift again and clenching her teeth as she flexed her abs in on him again and wrapped both arms around herself at the same time. He settled down with a string of muffled curse words which she could almost translate and she rested her head back, gently stroking her stomach where his head pushed up beneath her breasts.

“This was your fault, you know,” she said, “Coming in like that and throwing ultimatums at me. You might as well have just pointed a gun in my face.”

Harmon mumbled in reply, the sound barely audible.

“Now what am I supposed to do with you?” she asked, her hand drifting down to circle her navel, “It would take a week to digest you and I can't hide this for that long without someone coming to check on me.”

Another mumbling response, followed by a sudden buck and a few sharp words.

“Plus I have your truck,” she fumbled with the keys she had lifted from his pocket, “Which I can't just let sit outside, or someone will want to ask me where you went. And I can't run the gas station looking like this either—

She stopped talking as she heard a banging sound inside the station. With some effort, she stood back up, plodding back to the door and trying to be as silent as possible as she crept around the back hall to see who was inside.

A middle aged man was waiting at the counter, his sandy hair dirty and mussed, sticking up at odd angles. He had a few days worth of stubble on his round chin and his eyes seemed to sag in their sockets. He wore a stained white t-shirt and a pair of sweat pants with crocks on his feet and without needing to come any closer, Chelsey could tell that Bernie Anderson was on a binge. Little else would have the divorced mill worker walking to the gas station at the edge of town at midnight to attempt to buy more beer.

Chelsey groaned silently. He would stand there and bang his fists on the counter until she came out. Then again...if she didn't come out, he might just take his beer and go. In fact, he might take just about anything if left unattended. Without any further thought, she slipped around the corner, placing the keys on the counter then slipping back into the shadows of the break room, doing her best to keep her hideously bulging and squirming stomach out of view.

“Chelsey, where are you? Taking a break to toke up in the back? Get out here or I'm walking out and you can come get my twenty bucks tomorrow.”

As he spoke, Chelsey moved further back into the hallway, edging towards the door and crossing her fingers.

“Hey! You left your keys!” Bernie shouted before snatching them off the counter.

Chelsey heard the door jingle as he walked out and waited as the minutes ticked by, closing her eyes and trying not to be distracted by the persistent struggling of the man she carried inside of her. Finally, she heard the truck start and almost laughed out loud.

“Thank God for stupid people,” she whispered, softly clapping a hand on her stomach, causing Harmon to let out a muffled shout and strain as hard as he could to raise his head.

Chelsey forced his head back down with one hand, this time feeling no need to tense her body around him as the immediate crisis had passed and there was no way he could get out now. What at first had seemed a disaster was quickly becoming a manageable problem. She'd been discovered for the first time. The shock and embarrassment of that moment had nearly done her in on its own. But now, her accuser was trapped safely inside her belly. His vehicle had been stolen and there was no evidence to suggest that anyone other than the perpetually drunken mill worker could have any idea where he was. For once, Chelsey felt lucky that the camera above the counter didn't actually work. She giggled softly to herself. Now she just needed to do something about her nearly two hundred pound gut.

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