I’m a nervous wreck. I pace across the barren apartment and my brain’s moving a million miles an hour. At least I have the presence of mind to text my mom and let her know that I went out for a little while.
I’ve done stupid things. Crawled through broken glass to poke my head into the boiler room of a falling-down abandoned factory. Climbed to the top of a cellphone tower just to say I did. But having unprotected sex with a murderer is by far the dumbest shit I’ve ever gotten into.
And now he’s going out to take care of it.
I know what that means. He’s going to come back with pills. Plan B, but no, it’s too late for that. Abortion pills then. Or maybe a doctor to do something to me. I put my hands on my belly and feel chilly and sick all over. I haven’t stopped shaking since he left.
Can I let him do this to me? Can I let him force me to have an abortion?
I should want one, honestly. I can’t have a baby right now, much less with a total freaking stranger. Much less with a stranger that killed someone. Whoever Arsen really is, he’s dangerous as hell and involved with some really shady stuff.
I should want to take care of this baby and move the hell on with my life.
Except I don’t. It’s sickening, but I don’t. The idea makes my heart feel like it’s going to sink into my guts and decompose in my colon. I never really imagined myself as a mother before, but there’s a baby in me, whether I like it or not, and I can’t just take care of anything.
I yelp when there’s a noise at the door. I look around for a weapon, but what the heck am I going to do? A full five-foot-four with a bush of auburn hair and my stupid little nose ring? I’ll run at them screaming like a banshee only to get knocked on my ass.
But it doesn’t come to that.
Arsen enters the apartment. He’s carrying a big black garment bag and he kicks the door shut again behind him. He barely glances at me as he stomps back into the bedroom. I follow after, feeling like he’s about to zip me up and drag my corpse back out.
“Those are for you,” he says and gestures at the bed.
It takes a second to process. The garment bag’s unzipped and lying open. Inside is a simple white wedding dress. It looks like it’ll fit me, more or less, and it’s actually very pretty. Some lace, a little conservative, but with a nice satiny sheen.
Beside the dress is a black ring box.
“What the fuck is all this?” I blurt out, mouth hanging open.
He turns to me, shoulders hunched slightly like he’s got a headache. “Don’t make this hard.”
“Make what hard?” I gesture wildly. “That’s a wedding dress. And that better not be a fucking ring next to it.”
He rubs the bridge of his nose. “I already got lectured for this once.”
“For what?”
“Tigran’s on the way over with the priest. None of this stuff was easy to find at this hour, by the way.”
“Priest?” I nearly choke on the word. I storm over to the ring box and flip open the lid.
I scream and throw it at the pillows.
Diamond. Big-ass diamond. Princess cut and glittery, with other little diamonds all around it. A beautiful engagement ring and probably cost a small fortune, especially at this hour.
I whirl around to find Arsen glaring at me like somehow, I’m the one in the wrong here.
“I am absolutely god damn not going to marry you,” I yell.
His lip twitches and he lowers his chin. “Yes, you are.”
“Like fucking hell I am. Are you crazy? We don’t know each other. I watched you kill a guy!”
“All the more reason,” he says, smirking now.
Fucking hell. The blood drains from my face. “Are you forcing me to marry you right now? Are you threatening me? That’s freaking… that’s blackmail.”
He’s grinning huge like this is some amusing joke. “I’m offering you a choice. That’s all.”
“Some fucking choice. Marry me or die.” I do my best impression of his deep voice. It comes across a bit mocking, which is the point. “What is wrong with you?”
He shakes his head, laughing softly. “God, I didn’t think anything could make me smile tonight. You managed it anyway.”
“Great, glad you think I’m fucking cute when I’m freaking out.”
“You are cute. Beautiful too.”
“Stop it.”
“I love your eyes. Big and expressive. And that little stupid nose stud. Makes you look bolder than you are. And that hair—”
“I’m going to find the ring and shove it down your throat if you don’t stop right now.”
“—That hair is perfect. Thick and reddish brown and feels silky in my fist when I grab it.”
A thrill runs between my legs. “Stop it,” I whisper, licking my lips.
“Your annoying and bold personality. Your insane curiosity. The way it feels when I sink myself between your legs. The way your skin flushes red when you come.”
“I’m not going to marry you just because you’re saying nice things. Although I don’t know if that last one is nice exactly.”
He steps closer. His smile is fading now into something more serious. “Here’s my offer. Put on the dress. Wear the ring. Become my wife tonight. And I’ll make sure your family never wants for anything ever again.”
I open my mouth to tell him to fuck right the hell off—but stop myself.
Your family never wants for anything.
Life hasn’t been easy for Mom and Dad. Even before she got sick, Mom worked a string of shitty jobs to keep a roof over our heads. Dad was the same way, always working hard, and now he’s doing twice as much and physically falling apart to make it happen, all to do what’s best for the family. Like I’ve been doing with the club job. Like Mom’s doing in her own way, taking care of the laundry, cooking meals, straightening up when she’s got the strength.
I can make their problems disappear.
Mom can have comfort. She’ll never have to stress about money again. If these are her last days, they can be good last days. They could travel. They could order out. An entire world of decent suddenly might open up for her.
And there’s Dad. He could quit his job. No more wrecking his back and his knees. No more suffering. He could spend the last days he’s got with the love of his life and take care of her the way he wishes he could. Right there, by her side, without money breathing down their necks.
Also Vadim. But fuck that lazy dick.
I could do that for them. Right here and now. All I have to do is wear a dress, say some stupid words, and slip a ring on my finger.
“Can you really do that?” I say, choking on the words. Bile fills my throat and burns my tongue.
“They will never have to work another day in their lives if that’s what you want. I’ll buy them a new house, pay for full-time care for your mother, and give them a generous stipend. I can afford that and much more, little thief.”
“Shit. Shit. Shit.” I hate him for doing this to me. “How am I supposed to believe you?”
“I just bought you a sixty-thousand-dollar dress and a half-million dollar ring at two in the morning. You can believe me.”
My jaw drops open and I stare at the dress again. Suddenly, throwing the ring seems like a really, really bad idea.
“What’s the other option?” I say, squeaking it out.
“I drag you to a clinic in the morning and you have an abortion. I’ll pay for your medical care and make sure you’re comfortable, but you’ll never see me again, and if anyone ever finds out what we did together, your life will be in danger. That’s not a threat, just a fact.”
I slump back into the bed. I’m so exhausted I could curl up into a ball and sleep right here and now. My knee jostles and jitters, and I put my face in my hands. “Some choice,” I say into my fingers.
“I know.”
“I’m screwed either way.”
“I know.”
“How long do I have to decide?”
“Tigran’s on his way now. I’d say about twenty minutes.”
“Who’s Tigran?”
He laughs softly. “My brother. You have a lot to learn.”
“No kidding. What do you do for a living?”
“I import computer chips.”
I look up and almost recoil. “Are you serious?”
His smile is almost sad. “It’s more complicated than that, but yes.”
I flop backwards. The ceiling’s cracked in two places. I hadn’t noticed that before. I feel dizzy and sick and like the world’s closing down around me.
It’s impossible. If I want to keep the baby, I have to marry a stranger. If I want my freedom, I have to get rid of the baby. On one hand, I can help my family, but I’ll be trapped with this admittedly gorgeous but clearly psychotic man. On the other, I’ll always hate myself for letting this opportunity pass, but at least I won’t be trapped for the rest of my life.
It’s lose-lose for me no matter what I do.
So someone might as well walk away a winner.
“Get out,” I say without looking at him.
“Did you make up your mind?”
“Yes.” I push myself onto an elbow. “Leave me alone. I need to get changed.”
The pure obsessed excitement in his expression makes me positive this is the biggest mistake of my life.
