Satin Princess(4)

“She’s in there,” he says, stepping to the side and avoiding the question. I wait for him to shut the door after Freya enters, but he just stands there in the threshold.

“Chris?” I ask, sitting up on the bed.

“I’m gonna get some fresh air,” he says. “Can I get you anything? Something to eat or drink?”

My stomach is feeling a little empty. And even though I have no appetite, I nod. I have to think about my baby.

“Some fruit if you can find any,” I say. “But really anything would be fine.”

He nods and slips out. I watch his shadow pass by the drawn curtains just like Freya’s did, and then he’s gone. Freya rushes to the bed and sits down in the same spot Chris just vacated. It’s a weird sort of crossing paths. For some reason, it makes me shiver. Like there’s a hidden meaning I’m missing.

“You look tired,” she remarks.

“Good to see you, too,” I laugh bitterly. But I’m not even offended. I am tired. I’m exhausted.

“I’ve never been one to beat around the bush. What happened?”

“He killed her, Freya,” I whisper.

“Oh God…” She covers her mouth. “His wife?”

I nod. “I didn’t want it to be true.”

“I know you didn’t.”

“I feel like such an idiot right now.”

“Don’t,” she says earnestly. “You fell for him.”

She’s staring at me, the lamp on the bedside table highlighting the unique color of her eyes. The mix of blue and brown, as though her genetics couldn’t quite decide. Today is the first time I’ve seen her look truly disheveled, the night we met notwithstanding. Her dark brown hair is tied back in a messy bun that lacks finesse and she’s only wearing a little, badly smeared lip gloss. She looks prettier for the lack of it.

Her hands are wrapped around mine so tightly it’s almost painful. But I’m grateful that she’s here. That she understands.

“You knew from the beginning, didn’t you?” I ask. “That I had feelings for him?”

“I’ve been where you are right now, Jessa,” she says with a sigh.

“Why didn’t you warn me?”

She raises her eyebrows. “What could I have said? You were gonna do what you were gonna do. And if I’d judged you, you’d have just cut me out of your life. I didn’t want that.”

It’s an honest answer, and it only makes me more grateful for her. “You’re speaking from experience, I take it.”

“Unfortunately,” she says. “Got room on that bed for one more?”

Smiling, I slip to the other corner of the bed so that Freya can get in next to me. The headboard behind us looks padded, but it’s barely more than plywood. I make a conscious decision not to wonder how any of the many repulsive stains I can see might’ve gotten there.

“How did you find out?” she asks.

“I got a message.”

She glances at me incredulously. “I’m sorry, what?”

“This message came from an unknown number. I almost didn’t open it, but it was a video.”

She tenses immediately. “What was on it?”

“Footage of a fight between him and Marina.”

“That was his wife?”

“Yeah. That was her.”

“So… you saw her?” Freya asks curiously.

“Yes. I mean, kind of. She was onscreen, but the image was so grainy that I wouldn’t be able to pick her out of a lineup. Anyway, all I know about her is that she was blonde and beautiful.”

“Who told you that?”

“Anton.” Even saying his name hurts. It’s like pouring salt in a wound.

“What else did he tell you about her?”

“He said she was crazy.”

“How?”

“She was apparently insanely jealous,” I say. “She was possessive and controlling. She had a temper, too. That, at least, I can attest to. I saw her storm one of his meetings on the video that was sent to me.”

“Do you have the video?” she asks.

I take my phone out and open the video for her. I close my eyes and rest the back of my head against the headboard while she watches it.

“Wow,” she breathes a few moments later. “That was…”

“Terrible?”

“That’s one word for it.”

“Even if he’s telling the truth and she really was crazy, that doesn’t justify him killing her.”

“Definitely not,” Freya agrees.

I glance at her. “I can’t make excuses for him anymore, Freya. No matter what my feelings for him are.”

She glances towards the window. “Did you tell Chris?”

“Which part?”

“The part where you admit to falling for a Bratva don.”

I sigh. “Yes.”

“That explains the hurt puppy dog expression on his face when I arrived.”

“Don’t be mean about him,” I beg. “He’s a good guy.”

She sighs. “I’m sorry. I just… I’m worried for you.”

“I can’t stay here, Freya,” I tell her. “I left without saying anything to him. But when he finds out I’m gone, he’ll come after me.”