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Chapter Fourteen

ERIN

I’m beyond frustrated and I can’t stop the sobs that rack me. Everything is black and empty and consuming. Even getting up is difficult. I could lie here and just die.

But I’m not going to.

Sasha needs me.

Another sob catches hard in my throat, and my eyes burn, vision blurring. You’d think there were no more tears left in me, but there are. A seemingly endless display.

Sasha.

I hug his baby goat to me, his pillow, too. I can’t believe I still had them clutched in my hand as that monster who fathered him dragged me up here and locked me up like a prisoner.

But he did. Because he’s heartless, cruel. A monster behind that handsome facade.

Tom warned me.

And I listened.

But it wasn’t enough.

Fate stepped in and put us together, and he somehow found out about Sasha .

All I can think about is his sister, the girl I tried to help, the one my friend loved and died for. She told him. It’s the only thing that makes sense. I get he’s powerful, but to find out he has a son so quickly, I…

She didn’t even meet him.

She didn’t even see a photo of him.

But Max did. I’d met with Max and he’d gushed over the photo of Sasha, and when Alina arrived, he talked about my son and told me to show her a picture. But I’d rolled my eyes, stating she probably wanted to focus on her wedding and not some kid.

She’d asked, but we got distracted by the waiter. She didn’t see a picture of Sasha, but I’m betting she mentioned I had a two-year-old to Demyan.

It’s how it goes.

Which means he got her back.

Or hell… maybe I’m just flinging something like blame out and he looked into me with his vast power networks. I don’t know.

I don’t care.

I just want my fucking son.

“And lying here isn’t going to help.”

Pushing myself up, I stagger to the bathroom but don’t look in the mirror. I just wet a towel under the cold water and press it to my face. Then I return to the rest of the suite.

Bed, sofa, and coffee table, closet, a small table and chair that could be a desk or somewhere to eat.

And, of course, bars on the window.

I squeeze the towel and wince, my hands swollen and sore from banging on the door the first time after he locked me in.

The second time? When Sasha screamed and cried for me. His terror filled wail of ‘Mama’ could have brought the building down and I slammed my fists, over and over, screaming, threatening, pleading, crying, until I crumpled down to the ground in exhaustion.

No one came.

All I heard was the creak of a floorboard, and at some point when I lay in a puddle, I saw a shadow move across the space at the bottom of the door.

Change of guard?

I don’t know.

I just want my boy.

So I sit on the edge of the bed and practice slow breathing, calming the hysteria and the tears, ignoring the exhaustion from the emotional wringer.

I lock it all up as best I can because I’m going to have to fight. Be smart and wait.

And when I get the chance to run, I’m going to have to never stop until I’m so far from him it won’t matter.

Or I’m going to have to kill him.

I wait for the horror to hit at that thought. But it doesn’t.

For my son, I’d do anything.

Even though it’s futile, I cross to the door and try the lock, and I press at the dead keypad and screen. Nothing happens. It’s still locked, the pad still useless, and a small “Please…” breaks free.

No one, of course, answers.

My stomach turns and for a moment, I think I’m going to throw up.

I raise my fist, my resolve of being smart dissolving and I’m going to slam into the door again when it opens.

I’m so shocked I stumble back.

Demyan is there, hard and cold, taking up space. He sucks the oxygen from the room and makes my heart slam.

“Please,” I whisper, “please, this is killing me.”

Not even a flicker of compassion or anger crosses his face. He’s cold and empty like the tundra .

His gaze takes me in, drops to my reddened, bruised hands, and that cold, soulless gaze hits me again as he goes to close the door.

Something snaps and I lunge, but I only make it one step before the door slams and an iron band of an arm locks around my waist.

For a moment, I’m overcome by the furnace of his hard body. It sears into me, at odds with the ice, and I want to curl in, I need… I?—

“Even if you managed to make it out the door, you’d never make it to the top of the stairs. And my men have no compunctions in shooting to kill.” He lets me go, pushing me from him as though I’m sullying him. “Sit the fuck down.”

I hate him. Rage surges, but I manage to do as he orders, his threat to kill me still in my head. And all it does is strengthen my resolve to escape with Sasha.

“Fucking listen to me,” he says when I look at him. There’s something terrifying about his soft, low tone. The fact he’s not yelling or full of fury is worse. “You need to pay.”

“For what?” I make myself look at him. “Having a baby on my own?”

His eyes narrow. “You fucking lied to me about my son. An omission, Erin, is a lie.”

I swallow the anger and frustration rising. “I did ask for your name, but you checked in under a fake one. I tried to find you, but how the hell am I meant to when I’ve got nothing to go on?”

Demyan’s eyebrow rises. “Really? Thing is, I don’t believe you. If you wanted to, you’d have found me.”

“You were a one-night stand. And I tried. I promise.”

“More lies, Lyubimaya ?” His tone turns silky. “See, I did my homework tonight. Researched you. Seems your brother’s a well-respected private investigator. He’d have found out through the name I used and that particular hotel who I was and my bratva connections. He’d have known I am the bratva.”

I freeze, which is stupid, because I know that. But hearing him gloat, say it out loud brings it home.

“ Lyubimaya , pretty little Lyubimaya ; I believe you knew exactly what you were doing, keeping my son from me. You wanted to hurt me. Fuck, maybe you’re on a payroll.”

I stare at him, sucker punched. “Are you insane? What payroll? And even if I did know what you are, why would I want to hurt you? I don’t know you. Your world isn’t mine. And maybe, since we’re playing hypotheticals, if I did keep him secret, it was to protect him.”

“Bullshit.”

I bite down on my retort as my eyes fill and blur and burn.

“Demyan—”

“I know what you did. You stole my child?—”

“My child, Demyan. Mine. I gave birth, I nurtured him, mine.”

“No, mine. You tried to hide him and deprive me and steal his father from his life. I’ll never forgive you for that. It’s the ultimate betrayal.”

I swallow down a sob. “Demyan, I didn’t… I never meant to keep him from you, not… I didn’t know you, please.”

He nods. “It’s easy, isn’t it, to play victim after the fact, but you didn’t try to find me. In fact, your brother would have told you about me and who I was and you chose to hide Sasha. And for that, I’m going to make you pay.”

The sob breaks free, but the contempt he flashes at me makes me fight the next one down.

“You’re making me pay. Please don’t punish him in punishing me. He needs me.”

“He’ll get over it.”

The cruel words slap me and even though I’m sitting, I jerk back, legs suddenly useless .

Then he reaches in his pocket and hands me a phone. With nerveless fingers, I take it. And shock hits me. The phone is mine.

“My men got your things from the venue.” He nods at my phone. “You have five minutes to text anyone who might be worried about you. Maybe your lover wants to know where you are. Explain your absence, and that you won’t be back for a while. You’re on an extended trip or something.”

“I don’t?—”

“Do it.”

I fumble, unlocking my phone, and for a moment I think of Tom. He’d get it immediately, but I dismiss it. Demyan will never allow that.

So I text Kara, who’s got to be beside herself.

Hey, Kara. Thnx 4 letting me borrow ur car. U should have it back. All good. Sasha and I R fine. We’re taking a long trip. I’ll reach out when I can. XOX

He takes the phone before I can press send. Demyan studies it like it’s code, but finally he presses send and pockets my phone.

“Good girl. Then again, you had to be, didn’t you?” He studies me now.

I lick my lips. “She’s the only person who’d be worried.”

“Your brother?”

“T-tom’s busy. He checks in every few weeks,” I say. “We’re not that close.”

He nods and turns to the door and the bottom falls from my stomach. “Demyan!”

I’m on my feet fast and he turns so fast we’re way too close and all I can do is smell that evocative scent of his, the one that makes a part of me swoon, even now, and I hate that part, I really do .

“What?”

“Sasha. Please, please let me see him. I’m all he knows; he’ll be so scared. He’ll be hungry. He?—”

“You’ll see him when and if I decide.”

Panic digs into me and I start babbling, “His things, there’s a book in there he likes, read that to him. And…” I grab his pillow and baby goat toy and thrust them at him. “This is his pillow and his favorite toy.”

I don’t want to give them up; they’re all I have, but there’s no way I’ll deprive my child, either. And I need him to have them more.

But Demyan sneers and steps back, the pillow and toy falling. “He doesn’t need those.”

“He’s two; he loves the goat and the pillow calms him. Please, Demyan?—”

“Sasha won’t be surrounded by flea-bitten rubbish. He’ll have new bedding, a room of his own, along with quality clothes and the best toys. And you? You won’t get to see him at all if you keep this up.”

He walks out.

“Fucking bastard!” I scream and fling myself at the door. “You heartless, fucking monster! You’re punishing and hurting a baby to get to me! You don’t love him, you can’t. You’re incapable. Let me out! Let me have my son! I hate you!”

I sob, sliding down the wall as the fight finally ebbs away again.

When I can move, I gather baby goat and his pillow and climb on the bed and hug them, crying into them, my resolve in tatters, the locks I tried to use on my emotions broken and twisted.

I don’t know if I pass out or enter some weird fugue state, but I don’t hear the door, just the voice. And when I sit up, my tears are dry .

It isn’t the woman from earlier. It’s the pretty one, whom I’m sure Demyan sleeps with.

She has a tray and I try to judge how much force I’d need to take it and beat her down with it. But it’s pointless because there are guards with guns on the other side and the door’s shut and locked behind her.

“You are Erin?”

I don’t move.

“Magda saw you earlier and I am here now. I’m Olga. Here.”

She sets down water and a plain-looking sandwich before dropping the tray to her side.

“Magda asked about you.”

She’s being friendly but not soft, yet I have to try. “Please let me out.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Sasha, you took him… is… is he okay, please? Have you seen him again?”

She nods. “Your boy is safe and well.”

I start to cry again, and she shoves a tissue at me. “I’m sorry…”

“Crying won’t help,” she says. “Obeying Demyan will.”

“No, me being with my son will help. I need him and he needs me. I heard him screaming for me. Please let me go,” I say.

But Olga shakes her head. “I can’t. I don’t wish to be on Demyan’s bad side. He’ll be angry just for this.” She gestures to the sandwich, then reaches in her pocket and puts a candy bar down. “I’m meant to just give you water, not food, but you must be hungry.”

I reach for her. “You can let me go. I can say I overpowered you.”

“Demyan’s a very powerful man. If he found out about this, I’ll be punished. God only knows what he’d do if I helped you escape.”

“How can you work for such a horrible monster?”

Olga glances at the door, then at me and she takes my hand, squeezing it. “Stay strong, little Erin. Under the armor he wears, he’s a good man. And Demyan will calm down. Eventually.”

But I’m not sure I believe her.

Demyan isn’t good.

He’s a monster, and he wants not just to take Sasha, but he’s hell-bent on making sure I never see him again.

I need to get out of here. With my boy.

Because I fear for both our lives.