Satin Princess(27)
“But I’m guessing he didn’t just hand over his phone?”
“He didn’t even know I took it. He’s probably figured it out by now, though.”
“He called me earlier. I mean, when I was at the manor. He called from an unknown number, which I thought was odd.”
“You didn’t ask?”
“He was so panicked,” I explain. “He didn’t even mention you.”
“Because he knew I was not the real threat.”
My hands are resting on my stomach and the question that has been burning in the back of my mind since I woke up shifts to the forefront. I don’t want to ask, but I also have to know.
I lift my eyes to his, realizing that the only reason I can ask at all is because he’s here with me. Giving me strength with his mere presence.
“The baby,” I say quietly. “Did I lose the baby?”
His gray eyes soften.
I hold my breath and wait.
10
ANTON
“The baby is fine.”
Jessa exhales in a sob, relief and gratitude overwhelming her. “Oh, thank God,” she breathes.
“You can thank the doctors, too. They’ve been here giving you around-the-clock care.”
She glances towards the door tentatively. “Is that who I freaked out a second ago?”
I smile. “They’re the ones.”
“Great. I’m sure you’ve been just charming to them as well. Glad I could be the cherry on top.”
“I’m always charming. As for you, well… you’ve been through a lot in the last few days,” I say. “Don’t be too hard on yourself.”
She nods, but I can tell she isn’t convinced. She searches around the room as though she’s looking for shadows in every corner. “You brought me to a hotel? Why not a hospital?”
“Because I wasn’t letting the mother of my child rot in some fucking state-funded gurney. This is better.”
She opens her mouth like she wants to argue, but then thinks better of it and her lips fall closed again. Smart girl.
Something over my shoulder catches her eye. I turn to follow her line of sight out the window to the city beyond.
“We’ve got a nice view,” she remarks.
I stay silent. She’s dancing around the point she wants to make. I hold my breath and let her get there on her own time. I’m prepared to wait for many minutes. Hours, even.
It doesn’t take that long.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers.
I frown. “What?”
This time, when she meets my eyes, she doesn’t look away. “I’m sorry,” she repeats. “I’m sorry that I believed you killed her.”
I let loose a sigh I’ve been holding for far longer than I realized. I didn’t think I needed her to see the truth. Didn’t think it mattered to me.
I was wrong.
“I don’t blame you, Jessa.”
She looks down and shakes her head. “Deep down, I knew you didn’t do it.”
“But you ran anyway.”
“Because I felt like I couldn’t trust my instincts,” she says. “Which is still true enough. I can’t trust them. I thought Freya was my friend—right up until she popped her eyes out.”
I raise my brows. “Excuse me?”
“She wore dark contact lenses to try and disguise her bright blue eyes,” she says. “I remember thinking sometimes that it was like her eyes couldn’t decide what color they wanted to be, brown or blue. She dyed her hair, too. And yet I didn’t once think that she might not be who she said she was.”
“Why would you?”
She shrugs, but it’s obvious she’s torturing herself over this. She’s got one hand draped over her stomach, her thumb drawing soothing circles.
She’s fragile. But I need answers. Like it or not, I’ll have to drag them out of her.
“What happened, Jessa?” I ask. “What happened after I left you in our bedroom? We talked and everything was fine, and then you were gone.”
“I got a message,” she says, looking around for her phone.
I pull it out of the bedside drawer and hand it to her. She opens a conversation thread from an unknown number. There are only two messages there.
The first is a video that I recognize instantly.
The second is a disappearing picture that timed out days ago.
“What picture were you sent?”
“You, lying over Marina’s dead body.”
I shake my head. “It wasn’t me.”
“Clearly. But it sure as hell looked a lot like you. I’ve spent enough time staring at you to know what you look like. Even from behind.”
She doesn’t realize what she’s saying as she’s saying it. The moment she does, however, her cheeks flush and she tries to avoid my eyes.
“We’ll circle back to that later,” I tell her with a smirk. “What else stood out to you about the picture?”
“I only saw it for ten seconds before it deleted itself,” she explains, her eyebrows knotting together as she tries to remember details. “All I saw was a lot of blonde hair and your back to the camera.”