Satin Princess(19)



It’s about the uneven strum of my heartbeat. The way everything feels like it’s been coming down to this moment.

Because even when the die was cast and it seemed like my nightmare was over, I didn’t believe it. I was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

And now, at last, here it comes.

Except it is about to fall on my entire future. My woman. My child.

If that comes to pass, there will be no mercy. No reprieve. Only blood and pain.

My revenge carved onto her skin.





7





JESSA





Freya’s sudden appearance startles me. I press a hand to my heart and chuckle. “Hey. I didn’t even hear you come out.”

She smiles, but something about it seems off. Why do her eyes look secretive all of a sudden? Why are her hands fisted so tight I can see the white of her knuckles?

“Is something wrong?” Freya asks.

I take a step back without even realizing it. Good question—is something wrong? Chris says yes.

But Freya has been there for me. She’s opened up her home to me. She’s shared her innermost trauma with me. Was all that a lie?

I open my mouth to respond, and in those two seconds worth of hesitation, I make a decision.

I’ve trusted people before and look where that got me. I’ll listen to Chris this time, because I’ve ignored him twice now, and both times cost me dearly.

“I’m fine,” I say, forcing myself to smile. “It’s just nausea. You know how that goes.”

“I know,” she says with a solemn nod. “Maybe you should sit down.”

There’s a bench only a few feet away from me calling my name, but I shake my head. “Actually, I was thinking of going for a drive. Maybe I’ll go explore the city.”

“The city is like two hours away,” she says. “We can head into town if you want, but it’s not very exciting.”

“There’s no need for you to come with me. I don’t mind doing some window shopping on my own.”

“Nonsense. I love window shopping.”

“But you don’t need to window shop,” I say. “You can actually shop.”

“I may look like a rich girl, but that doesn’t mean I am one,” she says rather defensively. “My parents are the ones with the keys to the kingdom.”

“Maybe you should try to mend fences while you’re here? If you wanted to go into London to talk to them, I would understand.”

She frowns. “You trying to get rid of me or something, Jessa?”

Keep things casual, I think. Stay calm. Be normal.

I titter like she just told a joke, but her blue-brown eyes bore into mine. So deep and intense that I start to feel unsteady and I stumble in place.

“Geez, sorry,” I say, trying to regain control of the moment. “I just feel a little… weird.”

“Weird how?” she asks.

“I don’t know. A little dizzy.”

Freya moves forward and takes my arm. I almost give myself away by flinching, but I succeed in holding it in. I let her drag me over to the bench.

“Sit down,” she says in a stern tone. “I don’t want you falling and hurting that baby.”

She sounds sincere. Like she’s genuinely concerned for me and the baby. Again, I have to fight competing emotions of self-preservation and guilt.

What if Chris is wrong about her and she’s exactly who she says she is?

As much as I love and trust Chris, I still cling to the hope that he’s wrong. Because the thought that I could have fallen prey to another pretty face and some charm is almost too much to bear.

“Feel better?” she asks.

“Slightly,” I admit. “Getting off my feet did help.”

She nods. “I know this is all difficult, Jessa. But trust me, I’ve got you.”

Her smile is so sincere that it makes me mad to think that Chris would put all these doubts about Freya into my head.

She’s a good person.

But then… I thought the same thing about Dane.

And Salma.

And Anton.

“Do I need to get you some more of Marge’s miracle tonic?” she asks.

“No, that’s okay. I don’t think I can eat or drink anything right now.”

We sit in silence. The urge to study Freya, to try to get inside her head and figure out what she’s thinking, is strong. But I don’t want to stare at her too much and give myself away.

Though it might be too late for that. Something in the way she holds herself tells me she knows I’m observing her.

“You seem distracted, Jessa,” she remarks. “Are you sure nothing is wrong?”

My stomach twitches uncomfortably, but I bite down my discomfort. “I’m sure. I just feel a bit weird, is all. It’s just the pregnancy hormones.”

“I miss being pregnant,” Freya says softly.

I feel the urge to wrap my arm around her and comfort her, but I don’t. Chris’s warning is still echoing in my head. I feel insane, ping-ponging back and forth between two irreconcilable options like a little girl plucking petals from a daisy.

He loves me, he loves me not.

I trust her, I trust her not.

“It’ll happen for you one day,” I tell her. “Not everyone is meant to have babies in their twenties. Some people find motherhood later in life.”

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