Satin Princess(55)

“Oh thank God,” I utter breathlessly.

I’m walking towards her when a blonde approaches Margaret. I can’t see the woman’s face, but another fear grips me. What if Margaret is working for Marina? What if this is all a trap to lure me to the market so that Marina could finish me and my baby off? I don’t know them, I can’t trust them, I can’t— I suck in air, but it only seems to cut off my circulation. Oh God…

I realize belatedly that I’m hyperventilating. My vision is going foggy and there’s pain in my lower abdomen that I haven’t felt in days.

“Oh God… no…” I whisper to no one in particular. “Please no…”

My knees buckle, and suddenly, I can feel the damp grass underneath my fingertips. Someone calls out. More gasps and yells.

Then I see Margaret turning towards me, recognizing me.

I almost expect her to smile in sinister fashion, but apparently, my paranoia has gotten the better of me, because instead of the evil smirk I’m expecting, she starts moving fast toward me. Her limp is more pronounced when she trots, but her expression is all concern.

“Honey,” she gasps, falling to her knees in front of me. “Honey, what’s happening?”

I shake my head even as my eyes dart around the crowd. I see Marina’s face again. She’s staring at me from two stalls down. But the spots in front of my eyes are blurring my vision. I can’t even tell if I’m really seeing her or not.

“Where’s Anton?” I whisper. “It hurts so bad…”

The look of alarm on Margaret’s face is what alerts me to the fact that something is deeply wrong. I follow her gaze down.

That’s when I realize that there’s blood on the front of my white dress.

“Don’t worry, dear,” Margaret whispers to me. “You’re going to be okay.”

“No… no, I don’t think I am, Margaret,” I sob. “I think I’m losing my baby.”





19





ANTON





“What do you mean you saw her?” I demand. “Where? Fucking where?”

My thoughts are racing. Marina is here. She’s here, and Jessa is… Where the hell is Jessa?

“On the eastern perimeter of the market,” Yulian insists. “I’m sure it was her.”

“A brunette or a blonde?”

“She’s blonde again.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure, Anton,” Yulian growls. “I know what Marina looks like.”

“You didn’t the first time around, and that’s why all this shit is happening,” I snap viciously. He recoils in obvious hurt, but I don’t give a shit. His feelings don’t matter anymore. Only Jessa’s safety does. “Why didn’t you go after her?”

“Don’t you think that’s exactly what I did?” he exclaims. “She’s not here alone. She’s got people. I followed her and lost her in the crowd. Or would you have preferred if I opened fire on a bunch of civilians?”

“Anton!” Lev calls, breaking up our burgeoning fight as he maneuvers between a family and a couple to get to us. “We gotta move.”

“You spotted her?” Yulian asks.

“No,” Lev says, his face grim. “It’s Jessa.”

My hands ball into fists immediately. “Jessa? Is she hurt? What the fuck happened?”

Lev looks like he has no idea what to say. “She… she fell.”

But I can see it in his eyes: it wasn’t a fall. With Marina around, nothing is a coincidence.

I shove my way through the crowd. Lev leads me to a stall with a striped awning overhead. I see only Jessa’s feet sticking out from between the crowd, looking so pale and forlorn that I want to fall to my knees at the sight of them. Margaret and Thomas are kneeling beside her, both grim.

I drop to a lunge in the grass. “Jessa?”

Her eyes are hazy and panicked when they find mine. “Anton,” she says breathlessly. “The baby. I can feel…”

That’s when I look down and see the blood staining the front of her dress. It’s only a smattering, barely enough to stain the gauzy fabric, but it makes my blood run cold.

Margaret moves aside as I hurry forward and scoop Jessa up in my arms. She’s weightless, limp. She lolls against my chest as though the effort of holding her own head up is too much.

“We’re going home,” I growl.

I can feel her tears soak through the front of my shirt. “Just make sure the baby’s okay,” she whispers.

“I’m going to make sure you’re both okay.”

“Will she be alright?” Margaret asks, looking at Jessa. She looks like she’s close to tears.

“I’m taking her back to our hotel,” I say. “I’ll be in touch.”

She just nods as I veer back into the crowd with Jessa in my arms. I keep a lookout, trying to spot the bitch whose fingerprints are all over this fucking nightmare.

Lev pulls the jeep up as I approach and Yulian holds the door open for me. I get in the back seat, still cradling Jessa in my arms. I could set her down beside me, but I refuse to let her go. My eyes keep flitting to the bloody spatter on the front of her dress.