Lucy lied for me.
I touch the tips of my fingers together to think. Could it be that this wasn’t a betrayal? Did Gretchen act on her own?
After a little more tit for tat between Agent Rossi and Gretchen, mainly for sport as far as I could tell, Rossi agrees to release us. I’m fairly certain it was mainly because he became incapable of refusing the sexy attorney anything she demanded.
I find Gretchen waiting for us outside. “A word, Mr. Baranov?”
“Ravil,” I correct, stepping several yards away from the building with her.
She stops and squares off to me. “I know what really happened,” she accuses. “And I have documentation. So if you come near my friend again”—she lifts one red-tipped finger in my face— “I will have you put away. Those guys in there are dying to nail something on you. They wouldn’t need Lucy to press charges. All they would need is my signed affidavit. Which I have put in a safe place. So don’t even think—”
“She sent you,” I interrupt. I have to know.
Gretchen closes her open mouth, a grudging expression on her face. She folds her arms across her chest. “Yes, she sent me.”
“She didn’t call for help.”
Gretchen regards me coolly. “No.” The finger comes back out into my face. “You fucked with her head. Now leave her alone. Unless you want the stress to harm the baby.”
I know she’s posturing, but the suggestion hits me in the solar plexus just the same. The idea of anything harming our sweet baby kills me. I can’t imagine how stressful today must’ve been for her.
“Where is she now?”
“She’s back at her place. Where she will stay. Leave her. The Fuck. Alone.”
I draw a breath and nod. Not because Gretchen’s threats scare me. Because it’s the right thing to do. I was wrong to force Lucy into my penthouse... not that I wouldn’t do it all over again if given the choice.
But I won’t force her again.
She’s paid her penance for trying to keep the baby from me. Now I have to pay mine and suffer the heartache of giving her up.
Even though it fucking guts me.
Chapter 19
Lucy
I open and close the largest matryoshka doll. Staring at the gift leaves me feeling like a bomb exploded in my chest. Somehow I made it through the last few days. Ravil hasn’t called or come over. I didn’t call him, either. I’m too confused. Gretchen explained what she’d told him, and that he agreed to leave me alone.
Part of me didn’t believe he would. But the next day, Oleg showed up with all my things, which he brought in and left without a word. Well, of course, without a word. But also without a message. Which made me wonder if that’s why Ravil sent him and him alone.
He barely looked at me when he brought the stuff in. I caught his arm as he was leaving. “Mne zhal',” I said. I’m sorry. I’d been practicing that one.
He just shook his head and left. Left me with even more angst.
If it had been one of the twins, I might have asked how Ravil was. Apologized for their arrest.
Although—what do I really have to apologize for? They were accomplices to Ravil’s kidnapping. And he did abduct me.
I can’t forget that.
Maybe I do have Stockholm Syndrome. I find myself missing them—all of them. I miss the massages and the food. I miss the easy banter between the guys. The warmth they all showed me despite the fact that I was a prisoner.
And mostly I miss the hell out of Ravil.
Guilt eats at me. This gnawing sensation that I’ve done something wrong. That I screwed Ravil.
But that’s not right.
He’s the one who abducted me. He held me prisoner and threatened to send me to Russia.
But was it really so bad? a little voice keeps whispering.
Dammit, if I don’t want to be his prisoner, still.
I try to keep working from home. I keep up the farce that I’m still on bedrest, at least until I stop feeling like a zombie.
Sarah wrote me a very groveling email which she copied all the partners on, so of course, she wasn’t fired. I find myself unable to give two fucks or even one fuck about her, the partner position, or the firm.
I can barely make it through the day. Barely feed myself or shower. I’ve been sitting on this couch in the same yoga pants since the night everything blew up.
I don’t even realize it’s Saturday until my mom calls and startles me. I must’ve dozed off. The dolls clatter to the floor and roll around.
“Honey? Are you coming today?”
I sit up with a sharp inhale and the room spins. “Oh, mom. I’m sorry, I was asleep, I’ve been having a hard time sleeping at night because of the hormones and having to get up and pee three times a night.”