Chapter 32

Cheyenne

Ivan's mother was delightful,and we spent several hours with her that afternoon once she was moved out of the ICU. She was exhausted and sore but seemed to be recovering well from the surgery. More than anything, she seemed upset that she'd ruined our first Thanksgiving together and that her car was totaled.

"I'll buy you a car, Mom," Ivan said patiently. "Maybe a Hummer that's reinforced with steel and titanium or something."

She snickered. "Yeah, okay, Mr. Overprotective."

"I've been trying to get her to buy a newer car for a couple of years," he told me.

"It was paid off, and insurance was low because it was old," she said.

"A safe vehicle is important," I told her.

"It was perfectly safe," Greta responded grimly. "I can't help that someone ran a red light."

"But you might not have been as badly hurt if you'd been in a bigger, sturdier car," Ivan said.

"Well, it's moot now," she sighed. "I have to get something new regardless."

"We'll look together."

"You have to go back to L.A."

"I'll probably just meet the team in Montreal since they'll be there on Monday. No need for me to fly home and then turn around and fly back."

"Don't get into trouble on my account," she whispered.

"Family first," he replied.

We chatted for a while and eventually Greta dozed off again, so I pulled out my phone and finally texted Stevie.

CHEY: Okay, I have a few minutes. Tell me what's going on.

STEVIE: I think he suspects something. I threw up yesterday morning and he asked me all kinds of questions. I told him it was food poisoning but if it happens again, he'll know.

CHEY: Are you going to keep it?

STEVIE: I don't know. I'm scared. He's become possessive and overbearing the last few weeks… he got angry when I told him I wanted to go to L.A. for a few days. He was saying crazy stuff, like I wasn't really invested in our relationship, and why was I marrying him if I didn't want to spend all my time with him. Then he said something about how I can eat and drink more now, since I won't be modeling anymore.

CHEY: Were you planning to retire?

STEVIE: No! I'm only twenty-six.

I sighed, wanting to ask her what the hell she'd been thinking, since everyone else had seen what a jerk he was long before they got engaged.

"You okay?" Ivan asked me.

"Yeah. You know, just Stevie being Stevie. Except she finally sees what we've all been seeing with Damien, and it's sinking in that he's not a good guy."

"That would be great if she wasn't pregnant," he responded, reading my mind.

"Yeah."

"Sweetheart, go to New York," he said. "Really. I'm fine. Mom is going to be okay. And frankly, it sounds like Stevie genuinely needs you to help her find the strength to walk away."

"I think it's more that she's afraid he won't let her leave."

"Then she needs you more than ever."

I was thoughtful for a minute and then typed out a response.

CHEY: Look, you know I love you, but if I come there, it's going to be to help you get rid of him. I'm not going to leave my boyfriend and his mom to listen to you complain that you're unhappy while refusing to do anything about it. Are you going to leave him, baby or no baby?

STEVIE: Yes. I'm done. I didn't realize how bad things were until I got a glimpse of what my future is going to look like. I can't live like this. He's here all the freakin' time! He's on a work call now, but he works from home ninety percent of the time. When I tried to go to the gym the other day, he wouldn't let me until he was done working and could come with me.

CHEY: He physically stopped you from leaving your brownstone?

STEVIE: Yes! He didn't hit me or anything, but he was angry and raised his voice. It scared me.

CHEY: Why didn't you tell me?!

STEVIE: I tried, but you were busy. Anyway, Damien has his big quarterly meeting tomorrow, with all the directors and VPs. He has no choice but to go in, and he'll be out for about four hours. That's my window to leave.

CHEY: Then I'll meet you there, and we can head straight to the airport. What time will he leave for the office?

STEVIE: Probably by eight thirty or so.

CHEY: I'll fly into the city tonight and sleep at a hotel. Then I'll swing by to pick you up around ten. Does that work?

STEVIE: Yes. I'll be ready to go. I just hate having to leave MY house to get away from him.

CHEY: We can call the cops once you're not there and they'll deal with him.

STEVIE: Thank you. And I'm sorry for everything. I've been a dumbass.

CHEY: It's okay. Don't worry about it. I'll see you in the morning. And make sure you act normal the rest of today, so he doesn't suspect anything.

I closed my phone and looked at Ivan. "I guess I'm heading to Manhattan."

He nodded. "Go help her. We're fine here."

"Are you sure?"

He wrapped his arm around me. "This is our life going forward, yes?"

I nodded and he gently lifted my chin. "We're both following our dreams, making money, and working toward a secure, relaxing future. But we're in this for the long haul, right?"

"Oh, yes."

"Then we'll be fine. I love you. This is the life we wanted, so we'll deal with the separations as they happen. Especially when emergencies come up. Family or otherwise."

"Thank you. This is one of many reasons I fell in love with you."

"Speaking of which, I want to revisit the house discussion." His eyes twinkled. "When we are in the same place at the same time, I want us to have our own space, a place we call home."

"I'd love to buy something together. We can sell our condos and buy a house. Maybe something near the water."

"Whatever you want. I've been saving, so you don't have to worry about my portion of the money."

I smiled. "I was never worried about money, Ivan. All I want or need is you."

"I love you, sweetheart."

* * *

I was just aboutto fall asleep that night when I got a text from Ivan.

IVAN: I've been thinking, and I really don't like the idea of you going to get Stevie by yourself. Damien makes me uneasy. My mom and I have been talking about the situation and she said he sounds a lot like my dad, how overbearing he became, refusing to let her leave the house without him, see her friends, things like that. She doesn't think he'll let Stevie leave if he gets wind of what's going on.

Instead of texting back, I called him. "What do you suggest? I promised her I'd pick her up at ten and I can't tell her I'm not coming. She's scared of him, but I'm not. Fuck him."

"But you should be scared of him. I think he's dangerous. Anyway, I just checked, and I can get on a flight at six in the morning that lands at seven thirty. I can meet you at your hotel by eight thirty or nine, and we can ride over to Stevie's together. Once we get to the airport, you two can head to L.A. and I'll fly back here."

"Are you sure? That's a lot of travel for you. If he's got this big meeting, I should be able to just swing by and pick her up."

He hesitated. "I just have a bad feeling about the whole thing. I'm not sure why. Call me overprotective, but would you humor me and wait for me to go with you? If traffic cooperates, we can pick Stevie up and be back at the airport by ten or ten thirty."

"I booked us on a one o'clock flight, so that's perfect."

"Promise you won't leave without me."

"Promise."

It took a long time to fall asleep after we hung up, and then I didn't sleep well. I was trying to decide if I was going to get up for the day when my phone buzzed. I grabbed it and my heart rate kicked up a notch when I saw Stevie's text.

STEVIE: Damien is leaving now but he's coming back early! He said he arranged to do his presentation first and then he'll be back and watch the rest of the meeting remotely. I don't know how much time we have.

It was only seven, so this was much earlier than I'd anticipated leaving, but I sat up and headed for the bathroom as I typed out my response.

CHEY: I'm coming. It'll take me about thirty or forty minutes to get across town, but you need to be ready to go. I don't care what you have to leave behind. Pack the bare necessities and be ready to run out the door when we pull up!

STEVIE: I'm already half-packed. I stuck a bunch of the things I needed in a bag last night and hid it in the closet.

CHEY: I'm texting my driver now and I'm coming to you.

STEVIE: Hurry!

I texted my driver and then Ivan, telling him what was going on and giving him Stevie's address so he could meet me there if necessary. He was in the air, so I didn't expect a response, but hopefully we'd already be on the way to the airport by the time he texted me back.

I quickly got dressed and threw my stuff into my suitcase. I'd thought I would have time to shower and finish packing in the morning, but apparently not. After talking to Ivan last night, I now had a bad feeling about going over to Stevie's by myself too, but what else could I do? With Damien coming back early, we couldn't wait for Ivan.

Of course, the hope was that we could just get the hell out of there with Damien none the wiser.

I really wished Ivan was here, and hoped he would see my message as soon as he landed, but I couldn't wait. Something told me the sooner I got Stevie out of there, the better.

I got to Stevie's Brownstone just after eight and told the driver to wait outside. Hopefully, she was ready to go, and we would be out of here in less than five minutes. I knocked on the door, getting increasingly nervous when it took a few minutes for her to answer. She looked tired, with dark circles under her eyes, and her hair in a loose ponytail, but she was dressed in jeans, a sweater, and boots.

"You ready?" I asked.

She nodded. "Yes. I finished packing and brought my suitcase down."

"We need to go, Stevie."

"I just need to get my purse and my allergy meds," she said, motioning me inside.

"All right. Get them and let's get out of here."

"I'll be right back." She hurried toward the back of the house, and I rolled her suitcase toward the front door. My heart was thumping painfully, and my stomach was queasy, as if my body already sensed that there was danger.

Coming here without Ivan had been a bad idea.

I was just about to call out to Stevie to tell her to hurry when I heard a yelp.

"Ow! Damien, stop!"

I moved toward her voice instinctively, only to find Damien dragging Stevie into the room by her ponytail, fury on his face.

"Where the fuck do you think you're taking my fiancée?"