My stomach knotted as he walked to the stairwell and left without a backward glance.
“How you doing?”
I turned to André. “I’m fine. Thank you for last night.” I should have been embarrassed, about a lot of things, but André wasn’t a man who made you uncomfortable. He made you feel respected.
He smiled and his whole face changed. “Anytime, chica. You need to get anything?” He nodded toward the apartment.
“Let me just clean up the dishes.” I didn’t want to leave food out for thirty-six hours.
“Marek has a housekeeper. She’ll handle it. We should go.”
At the mention of a housekeeper, irrational jealousy flared.
André chuckled. “You gotta work on that poker face, chica.”
“I didn’t say anything.” Hunter nudged my side.
“You didn’t have to. His housekeeper is my housekeeper, and she’s old enough to be our mother.” He winked as he scratched Hunter’s head. “You don’t need to worry. Grab your bag.”
Relief washed over me. “Just give me a second.” I went back inside with Hunter at my heels. Now that Dane was gone, the place seemed too big and too empty, and his scent everywhere made me not want to leave.
I grabbed some underwear from my suitcase and briefly thought about the clothes in there. I was ashamed to admit that I didn’t want to wear chain store clothes compared to the designer dresses Viktor had bought for me. I would’ve been comfortable in the clothes Dane had given me, but they didn’t make me feel like a woman. I was vain enough to admit I wanted to look better than I did now when Dane came home.
I tucked my toiletries case into the purse Dane had brought from his house, slipped on flats, and Hunter and I walked back into the living room.
André saw me and put his phone back in his pocket. “Marek says you need to eat.”
“I just need some coffee.” I didn’t want to ask for food because I was going to use up my favors another way. “I was hoping you could help me with two stops.”
“No problem on coffee. What stops?”
I’d noticed when I first met André that he had an edge to him that was hidden just under surface, but he also had a gift of making you feel at ease. “I would like a few minutes to see my mother.”
His face went blank. “The second?”
I named a department store in Coral Gables. “Just twenty minutes.” That would be long enough to grab a few things, and I could get more when my time was my own.
André was already shaking his head. “No woman comes out of a store in twenty minutes, chica.”
“I do.”
His hands went to his hips and he dropped his head. “Mierda,” he quietly swore in Spanish. “Marek’s gonna kill me.”
“I promise, I’ll be quick.”
He looked at me without lifting his head. “I’m not talking about the clothes, woman.”
I didn’t want to see my mother. I was furious with her. But she was my mother and she was hurt. “Is she still in the hospital?”
“Yeah, but she’ll be released sometime today.” He rubbed a hand over his chin. “Look, here’s the deal. Until we get this situation handled with the guard, I’m not comfortable letting you get close to anyone who was in Fedorov’s camp. No offense, but I don’t care if she is your mother. Her alliance was clear. But we can swing by the office, grab backup, and I’ll give you ten minutes in the store.” He glanced at his watch. “If we go right now.”
I could work with that. “Can I call her?” She didn’t have a cell phone, she didn’t believe in them, but André knew which hospital she was in.
He nodded once. “From the car. Let’s go.”
A few minutes later, all three of us were on the road and André had already taken four work calls.
I waited until he hung up the last call to speak. “I’m sorry to interrupt your work.”
He gave me an ironic smile. “Chica, this is my work.” He turned the Bluetooth on in the car then dialed a number.
“Regional Hospital, how may I direct your call?”
“Room four-oh-six,” André replied.
There was a pause and I tensed in my seat as I waited for the call to be connected.
Three rings then my mother answered. “Who is this?”
She sounded weak and faraway and tired, but I knew better. “Mama. How are you?”
“Stupid girl,” she spat out. “None of this would’ve happened if you would’ve kept your legs shut. Where is my Viktor? I don’t want to talk to you. I want him to pick me up.”
Until that very moment, I hadn’t realized the impact she’d had on my life. Every bad decision, every choice not to leave Viktor the first, or second, or even one hundredth time he’d mistreated me, abused me, paddled me, tied me up, and degraded me, it all clicked into place.
I’d let Viktor abuse me because that’s what I knew. My mother had always been controlling and spiteful, but when I’d hit puberty, she’d become competitive. She never missed an opportunity to tell me she was prettier or smarter, or my clothes looked better on her. And when Viktor saw the two of us having lunch at a South Beach restaurant and came to our table to introduce himself, she never let me forget that he’d said hello to her first. She’d told me more than a dozen times I was lucky she hadn’t been dining alone that day or Viktor would’ve been hers.
My mother had never treated me with respect. She didn’t care about me. I was just someone to take life out on, and that’s exactly what I’d let myself be to Viktor.
No more. I was done being the victim and the doormat. Twenty-three years of bullshit lifted and utter calm settled in.
“Viktor’s dead. Goodbye, Mother. Have a nice life.”
André ended the call then grasped my shoulder. “Amen, chica, amen.”
For the very first time in my life, I felt free.