Hunted and Abducted

Epilogue

I thought long and hard about this ending. I felt as if it was the best. I'm pretty sure I'm not doing a sequel. I think you guys will like my newest book better.

Six years later

Malia's POV

I silent tear rolled down my eye.

"What's wrong, Sweetheart," Morgan asked me.

"I can't see my feet!"

Yes, I am pregnant. Six months actually, with twins. Least to say, I was not happy. The doctors said the babies were way bigger than they were supposed to be. They also said they were surprised that I could even have kids. For years they told me I wasn't even mentally stable to have kids. Which isn't true, obviously wasn't true. Besides some pregancy hormones, I was perfectly fine. Well, more or less anyways.

Morgan and me stayed together after high school. Needless to say, I became depenedent on him. He hepled me through so much and I just wasn't letting him go anywhere. He had put up with me for years and at our wedding, vowed to put up with me for many more years. Like literally, that was in his vows.

"It's just because of the babies,"
Morgan cooed.

I huffed. I had three more months to go. I wanted them out of me, desperately.

"Come one, sweetheart. Let's go fix you some food."

"I knew I married you for some reason."

I followed Morgan down the stairs to the kitchen.

We had our own house now and it was marvelous. The kitchen was my favorite place, but that's really no surprise.

Morgan has been doing really good with my mood swings. I was deny I had mood swings, but I just can't.

The front door swung open, scaring the crap out of me.

"Mollie is here," she announced coming through the door.

"One day your outbursts are going to put me into labor," I muttered.

"And when that day comes you will praise me because you will be ready for them to come out of you!"

Mollie was the friend I had developed about two years ago.

Flashback

I wondered through the grocery store. Looking specifically for pickles. We were out of them. Morgan sent me to get them because he knew today would not go well without them.

I only liked one specific brand of pickles and you have to refrigerate them. I went to grab them and noticed they were the last jar.

"Fudge!"

I looked up to see a girl that was about my age.

"My precious, precious pickles!"

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"Ugh. That's all I came for."

"Me too.. I can't really function without pickles."

"Oh my gosh!"

"What?"

"You totally have to be my new friend! I have never met someone that loved pickles as much as I do!"

I just sort of stared at her. I didn't even say much about pickles.

"Trust me, I just know," she giggled," my name is Mollie."