Selena
There is a being the size of a peanut inside of me. It doesn’t look like much—a gummy bear, if I stretch my imagination a little, but definitely not a baby. But it has a strong, healthy heartbeat—a fast, swishing sound that’s melting my heart right about now.
I swallow back the lump that forms in my throat. My husband, wherever he is, at least left me one good thing.
“I think everything looks really good,” the doctor says. “Every woman’s body is different. Some women spot the whole way through their pregnancies; some have false contractions. I’ll take you at your word that you’ve just been under stress and I’ll ask you to try to take it easy from here out. You are about nine weeks along and your hormone levels are strong, so you have just three more weeks of your first trimester. You should start to feel a little better after that.”
“Is my boss still lurking around?” I ask.
“He is impatiently pacing the waiting room, yes,” she answers. “He has nearly been thrown out of the hospital at least twice, that I know of.”
“Ugh,” I groan. “What did he do?”
“Told the staff he would make a big donation if we let him see you. Threatened to have a helicopter land on the helipad to transport you to a private hospital in Russia. Threatened a security guard, a nurse, and someone else’s loved one.”
I cringe. “I’m sorry.”
“Strange behavior from an employer, if you ask me,” she says. “Anything you want to tell me?”
I grunt a negative sound and shake my head. “Nope.”
“You know you’re safe here,” she says. “Is the baby his?”
A snort escapes me. “No. Definitely not.”
“He’s acting like a man in love,” she says. “A man who is used to getting what he wants, too.”
“The second part is true,” I say. “He’s used to getting what he wants. But he’s not in love. He’s a control freak. And an abuser.”
“Ah,” she says. “So he abuses you?”
I shrug and look away.
“Should I call the police?” she asks.
“It would just make things worse,” I say. “I’ve got a friend and he’s working to help me get stable enough to leave the job. But I need it right now. My husband left me with a ton of debt, and he was the only person who would hire me.”
She sits at the edge of my little bed. “Selena, I don’t have a medical reason to admit you here, but I’m reticent about sending you home with him. Is there someone you can call? A friend?”
I shake my head. “I have a friend but … Sergei and he don’t … they can’t come face to face.”
“Well, why don’t you call him and see if he can meet you at the east entrance. I’ll get you out of here before your boss even knows you’re gone.”
“Really?” I ask, putting my hand to my chest. “That would be amazing.”
She pats my leg. “Give him a call. Make the arrangements and have a nurse grab me when you’re ready.”
I shoot Finn a text, then: Pick me up at east hospital entrance? He doesn’t answer right away, so I sit and go through old photos of me and Matt. My heart hurts a little bit, thinking about what I thought we had, about the man I thought he was. But that life, that Wall Street life, it wasn’t really me. Thing is, I’m not sure who I really am, what I really want. I never pictured myself as a mother, not really, but now that I know this little peanut is inside of me, I know I will do anything to protect it. A mom is who I will be. I just have to survive Sergei Kovolov.
I send another text: Everything OK? Five minutes pass. Ten. No answer.
When Sergei throws the curtain back on my little space, I about jump out of my skin.
“These fuckers haven’t let me back to see you in all these hours,” he says, his face drawn into a deep frown “I’m ready to kill someone.”
“Well, don’t do that,” I say. “I’m fine. About to be released.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you, Selena? It’s not nothing, or they’d have sent you home hours ago.”
“Just a virus, they think,” I lie. “They were waiting on blood tests. Something like mono, maybe. Like stress-related.”
He softens a bit like this. “Well, I suppose I have been a bear lately. I apologize. May I drive you to my place? Take care of you for a while?”
My heart races at this. Why hasn’t Finn texted me back?
The doctor storms into the small space and demands to know how Sergei got in here.
“You are not allowed to be back here,” she says, pointing a finger at him. “I told you this already.”
“No one will tell me anything,” he says. “I had to see her for myself. Now she says she’s ready to go home. I can take her.”
“You are not related to her,” the doctor says. “We can’t share any information with you, and you can’t be back here. Go back out in the waiting room.”
“No, I will not,” he says, his ire rising. “She’s already told me she’s got something viral. Nothing to be done but rest, so I will be taking her now.”
As the two argue with each other, nurses and a security guard get involved and I am temporarily forgotten. My phone buzzes and I grab it quickly. The text from Finn reads: Fuck this. You’re on your own.
My stomach sinks. He’s giving up. Moving on. I’m really all alone, knowing what I know about Sergei. And yet, it’s Sergei who’s been here for several hours, waiting for me. And the person I thought cared about me—he’s just gone. A text kiss-off and he’s on his way, back to his old life, our plan and my safety forgotten.
I thought I could trust Finn. I shared my body with him and I thought we’d gotten close. I mean, I don’t know if it was love or anything, but what I felt was real. I thought it was real for him, too. When I met him, I saw a cold-hearted, money-focused bastard. But I grew to see someone else, someone who could help me. I guess my initial perception was correct.
I’ll have to do this by myself then.
“It’s okay,” I say, too quietly at first. They can’t hear me over the arguing. I clear my throat and increase the volume of my voice. “Hey! Stop arguing!”
Everyone looks at me and I say, “It’s okay. Sergei, go get the car. I’ll get checked out or whatever and meet you outside.”
He looks smug as he walks over and pushed my hair from my face. He puts a kiss on my forehead and then walks out, leaving the room feeling airless, stifling.
“Selena,” the doctor says, “Are you sure about this?”
“What choice do I have?” I ask, near tears. I take a big breath in, then let it back out slowly to center myself. “I’ll be fine. It’ll be fine.”
She pushes her lips into a thin line and nods sharply. “There are resources … if you need them. I’ll give you my card. Call my office and check in if you need something.”
“Thanks,” I say quietly, afraid that if I speak too loudly, she’ll hear the quaver in my voice.
Only a few minutes later, I’m back in my clothes and making my way back to the patient pick-up area, where Sergei’s dark-windowed, designer car awaits. I slide into the front seat and he peels out. The way his jaw ticks, I can tell he’s angry, and it ratchets my anxiety level right up to level sixty immediately. Anxiety gnaws at my stomach and I find it hard to breathe. I sit on my hands to keep them from shaking. My vision is blurry.
“You need rest,” Sergei says as he drives. “I can care for you.”
“I’m not … you don’t have to do that,” I say. “I just want to get into my pajamas and sleep for a couple of days.”
“Well, I can provide pajamas and a bed for you at my place. And keep an eye on you. I insist,” he says. After a long pause, he adds, “I nearly killed someone tonight. I felt like they were deliberately trying to keep me from you, Selena. I did not like it.”
I’m going to have to get him to trust me. I’ll have to wing this whole thing. Get him close. Make him think I care about him. Maybe he’ll give me information that I can use. Maybe I can blackmail him on my own. Pay back Finn. Run away and be free of all of this.
The only way I can make this work is to go with him. Even though it’s the last thing I want to do.
***
Finn
One of my eyes is swollen shut. I’m pretty sure a few of my ribs are broken, as well as my nose. All in all, it could be worse. The two thugs have slowed down, realizing I’m not going to give them even one bit of information to share with their boss.
“Boss has been detained,” the dark-haired one says. “You’ll have to spend the night here.”
“Great,” I say. “Sounds good.”
“Enjoy your night in the cage,” he says.
The two brutes leave the space, leave me untied and sprawled on the concrete floor. They lock me in the cage, which has four walls and a top, all made of a tightly-wound metal. It really is a metal cage. There really is no way out once they lock it shut.
They leave and shut off the lights behind them, leaving me in the pitch-black space alone. It takes a long time for my eyes to adjust, but I finally get the slightest light from two exit signs—one only feet from the cage, the other at the main entrance to the space. If I could jimmy the padlock, I could make it out.
It’s just that I really feel like shit. I am beat to hell and my body is shot right now. It’s certainly not the first time I’ve gotten a good ass-kicking. It won’t be the last. But I’ve got to get myself moving. I have to get out of here, get to Selena.
I know those fucks took my phone. I know they’ll be able to connect her to me, if they haven’t already. And I suspect they have.
The darkness. The pain. It just makes me crazy. Crazy enough to force myself to my feet. Crazy enough to dig in my pockets, desperate enough to run my hands over the floor. When I find a thin paper clip, I nearly cry with relief. I unwind it, find my way to the door, shove it through the small holes in the metal. I roar with anger each time it doesn’t work to pop the lock. I nearly throw up from relief when it finally does.
It takes all of my energy to limp out of there, down the road. I go straight to Selena’s apartment. It’s black, no lights on at all. I have no idea what time it is.
I find the back door unlocked, which is not normal. Not at all. When I wander inside, I find nothing touched and Selena not at home. Is she still at the hospital? I have no idea. It’s driving me insane, the not knowing.
I decide to wait. It’s all I can do. She’s got to come home eventually. I take a shower, cleaning off the dirt and blood of the night. I find some medical supplies and wrap my ribs. I take four ibuprofen and fall onto the bed, my eyes closing despite how desperately I try to keep them open.