Page 36 of Ruinous Need

LISETTE

THE STRANGE THING about nearly freezing to death is that you feel warm. You feel relaxed.

The first few hours were agony after Viktor left to see what was happening. I thought he would come back for me. I didn’t know the way to the cabin on my own.

He’d told me it was close, but if I tried to find it, I knew there was a risk I could end up wandering back to the safe house. Back to danger.

I stayed in the woodshed where we’d sheltered, the sleeping bag wrapped tight around me. I dug down so low in the snow that it was almost like a bed, with the whiteness piling around me. The woodshed with its open side could only shelter me so much.

Then the delirium came, and it seemed to get warmer.

The blizzard howling outside became the roaring of a warm bonfire in my head.

I was on a camping trip with my family, before everything went wrong. My mom asked me to perform for the other campers.

And I found I could dance in that effortless way that I haven’t been able to for years. I didn’t need pointe shoes; I didn’t need a studio. I just needed the music in my head, the beat pulsing through my limbs.

When I finished, I smiled and bowed and enjoyed the applause instead of getting that sick feeling in my stomach when other people want me that makes me freeze up and want to sink into the ground.

The fire got warmer, the searing flames calling my name. Out loud.

One of the voices sent a chill zipping down my spine. I pushed it away.

Viktor was here. Inside the raging fire, the warm glow making his harsh face softer. He raised a finger to his lips is though telling me to be quiet. But I didn’t want to be quiet. He’d come back for me and I was so happy to see him that I wanted to scream with joy.

That’s how they found me.

Thigh-deep in the piled snow, walking towards the safe house shouting his name, pushing aside the bloody bodies of the guards who had fallen during the skirmish.

I don’t remember any of that except the dream and the feeling that I was warm and safe and no one could hurt me.

A complete lie.

I thought Viktor could save me from my fate. Really, he only delayed the inevitable. Gave me false hope.

Amazing what your body can do when you’ve been pushed to the limit.

I’ve been in the hospital for two weeks now as I recover from severe hypothermia. Long enough that the hope that Viktor will come barging in and save me has faded. Mostly, I’ve been sleeping.

Every part of my body ached for the first few days, and they said I was lucky not to lose a finger or a toe.

They pump me full of heated IV fluids and have been slowly increasing the temperature of the room, but I still wake in the night freezing cold, imagining the deep snowdrift in that woodshed and the howling blizzard outside.

Sometimes, in my dreams, I see the bodies of those men who were gunned down as Viktor tried to protect me. So I guess that did really happen, though I don’t quite believe it.

I ask the guards every day whether Viktor is alive or dead. No one responds. No one says his name. I can’t help wondering where he is now. But I don’t let myself hope he can save me from fate. Not anymore.

Even if he is alive, would it help to know?

Because either way, it seems like I’m going to have to marry Semyon.

I made a deal with the devil, and I have to pay the price.

I look out the window at the melting snow. The spring is on the way. Although it doesn’t feel like it yet, with the ground still hard and white with ice.

Dr Porter comes in. She can’t be many years older than me, but her skill and empathy is obvious. I don’t understand why she works in a Bratva hospital. I want to ask her, don’t you know what these people do?

But I’m sure she has her reasons.

I give her a weak smile and try to sit up on the pillows. She’s carrying a tray of food and she has some test results that she wants to discuss with me.

“Out.” She shoos away the guards when they try to insist they remain in the room, even holding the door open as she waves them out the door.

“I’m not going to let anyone take her if you’re out of the room for five minutes,” she says in a voice that says she considers them to be about as intelligent as five-year-olds.

“Lisette.” She takes a seat beside the bed. Her warm brown eyes are guarded behind a shadow of concern. “Are you aware that you’re pregnant?”

My stomach flips with nerves but not with fear. Pregnant.

I fold my hands over my stomach. I wish I could tell Viktor. I wish I could see his face light up. He doesn’t believe it, but he’d be a great father.

“How long?” My voice is surprisingly clear.

“Very early. Maybe five weeks.”

She shows me the tiny dot on the scans. My baby. Viktor’s baby. Hot tears well up in my eyes, but they’re tears of happiness. This is new, but not in a bad way.

For the first time since he left me in the snow, I let myself hope that he will come back. He has to come back.

“And is the baby okay?”

“Perfectly healthy. But we’ll need to continue monitoring. Your hypothermia is still pushing your body into emergency mode every so often. Which could cause complications.”

“And… I have endometriosis. Will that create any problems?”

"As long as you keep checking in with us regularly, that shouldn’t be an issue. It can cause complications, so it’s important that we monitor you carefully.”

“I’ll try to stay here as long as I can.”

The real problem is the Bratva. This could be a death sentence. A child out of wedlock to someone who is not the Pakhan is not something I would imagine the Bratva will receive kindly.

“Please don’t tell anyone .” I bite my lip and look at the door where the guards are standing, their black suits visible through the window.

I wonderhow much I can tell this woman about my situation. Whether I can trust her. I guess I have no choice. “I need… time to process this.”

“Your fiancé will be excited, won’t he?” she asks. The way her brow comes together lets me know that the question is loaded with hidden meaning.

Semyon has been to visit and Dr Porter’s reactions have let me know she doesn’t approve of the wedding happening so soon after my recovery.

I remember her arguing with him, something I’ve never seen anyone else attempt. Certainly not on my behalf. “She has had hypothermia. She’ll barely be able to stand up. She’ll still need more than twelve hours of sleep a day. I implore you, move the wedding back.”

The fire in her voice was everything I wished my father would have had when Semyon came to him with the original offer. But Semyon isn’t going to let my health stop him from winning the competition. The wedding is in two weeks.

I decide to trust Dr Porter.

I lean forward and whisper. “I might not be safe. And the baby definitely won’t be,” I place my hands on my stomach.

“Unless my fiancé can be led to believe that it’s his.

” I grasp at her hand desperately. “The wedding is in another two weeks. If we can keep it quiet until then, I think I’ll be okay. ”

Even if I have to go through the motions with Semyon, play the role of a loving wife in the bedroom in order to convince him that this baby is his, I’ll do it.

This child, Viktor’s child, is the one piece of joy I have in this stark white hospital room.

The one reminder that I made my own decisions.

That I didn’t just allow myself to be sold without a fight.