Chapter 14

Audrey

A s crazy as it sounds, the following days are worse than the actual kidnapping attempt.

There is a heavy silence between Jason and me, the kind of silence that seeps into every aspect of our relationship. Even our lovemaking feels cloaked in a shadow of secrets and lies—all of my own doing. I feel awful, yet I can't bring myself to tell him the truth, not about the Bratva or the baby.

I can't live like this for much longer, however. Guilt is like a sickness, quietly eating away at me from the inside. Combined with what I'm guessing are pregnancy hormones, it's giving me major mood swings and making me highly volatile, which means I have trouble regulating my own emotions.

"What are you thinking?" Jason asks, his voice dragging me out of my self-sabotaging thoughts.

I'm not sure how to answer that, but I am in his office, sulking in his guest chair while browsing through real estate ads, looking at comps in the area, and trying to figure out a reasonable selling price for my apartment. I need to sell it, there's no doubt about that. I'll need money to leave at a moment's notice, if necessary.

My brothers have yet to respond to my messages. I have no idea if they will give me the information I seek or if they will assist me in disappearing. And the thought of leaving altogether … that just breaks me over and over again every time it enters my mind. It's not fair to this child I'm carrying, Jason's child. It's not fair to Jason, and it's not fair to me. None of this is fair.

"Sorry," I mutter and close the laptop, stuffing it back in my bag. "Just going over some emails, nothing special."

"I just heard from Officer McKinley," Jason says.

Sitting behind his desk, he truly resembles a king overlooking his domain. Sometimes, I feel like I'm dealing with a whole different side of him as soon as he takes that seat. It's as if he transforms into a titan of sorts, a person who doesn't take no for an answer, who doesn't tolerate any form of rejection or disrespect. I feel small whenever I'm in here. It's a strange sentiment, but I know it's exacerbated by the guilt that I carry on a daily basis.

"What did he say?" I ask, nervously picking at my thumbnail. It's a habit I'd thought I'd gotten over. One brush with the wrong side of the Bratva, and all of my compulsions have returned as if they were never cured. "Did he find the Russians?"

"No, but he thinks they were with the Abramovic family," Jason replies.

Oh, shit. I know that name. That's an ugly name in my world. A terrible name. My father and brothers taught me to stay as far away as possible from anyone bearing that name.

"Abramovic," I say it out loud. "It doesn't ring a bell."

I hate myself.

"That's odd because your body language tells me otherwise," Jason bluntly replies.

For a moment, I'm frozen in place, sitting stiffly as I look at him, trying to figure out where he's going with this. There's an angle here, and he has tried it before. Each time, I've managed to dash along that thin red line, avoiding tense conversations and arguments about my honesty.

I fear I've run out of free passes, though. Jason almost died that night. One bullet would've been enough to kill him, and I would've had only myself to blame for it.

"I don't understand," I say, already eyeing the door and looking for an excuse to leave.

"Audrey, how many more times are we going to do this ridiculous dance where I pretend to be ignorant and ask you to tell me the truth, and you continue to lie to my face?" His tone is low but still warm. He's trying so hard to be patient, and I'm not helping.

"You're calling me a liar?"

"I'm calling you a bad liar, but I know it's coming from a good place," he says. "I know you well enough to understand when you're being truthful and when you're trying to sell me some Grade-A BS. Here's the thing, Audrey. Whatever it is, you're not telling me; I know you're not doing it to hurt me. You're doing it because you're scared."

I shake my head slowly. "I'm scared, yes, but everything else is … Jason, please, let's not have this conversation again."

"We are going to have this conversation again and again and again until you tell me the fucking truth," he snaps. "I got shot at, Audrey. Two Russian mobsters tried to take you away by force, and I'm pretty sure they would've killed you and dumped your body across state lines had they succeeded. You're not some stranger I picked up off the streets; you're my woman. I think I deserve to know the whole story."

"You know what?" I blurt out, my blood boiling with a mixture of anger and shame. "I think I'm going to spend the next couple of nights at a hotel. I think we need some time away from each other."

As if suddenly possessed, Jason shoots up from his seat and crosses the room in a split second. Before I can register the movement, he's got me pinned against the wall, his thigh wedged between my legs and pressing upward against my sensitive center. Almost instantly, I feel my breath leaving me as liquid heat drenches my panties, arousal flaring through my veins.

"What are you doing?" I manage, my voice barely a whisper.

"Reminding you who it is you're talking to," he shoots back and captures my mouth in a rapturous yet furious kiss. His lips press hard, his tongue clashing with mine. The effect that this man has over my senses is damn near devastating, and I quickly become putty in his hands. "When are you going to learn, Audrey, that you can't lie to me and get away with it? I've been more than patient, but said patience is running thin. I can't fucking protect you unless I know what's going on. I can't be with you unless you're honest with me, and I hate to have to pull this card, this ultimatum. I hate it."

"It's just—"

He kisses me again, cutting me off. It's as if his very soul is begging me for the truth, and I still can't find the strength or courage to just lay it all out on the table. He deserves it. He needs it. But I need him. I'm in love with him. I'm afraid he won't want anything to do with me if I tell him who I really am and where I come from.

At the same time, I'm painfully aware that I have to get away from him because I don't want him or Lily or Rita, or anyone else, for that matter, getting hurt.

All I can do is make the most of every moment we have left together, and this constant drilling for the truth only causes deeper dents in an already strained relationship. Why can't we just make the most of what we have before I muster the nerve to finally leave everything behind and start fresh somewhere else?

As far away from here as possible.

"The more you prolong this misery, the harder it'll be for us," Jason says, his breath ragged with arousal, his eyes clouded with dark desire. "I can't hold on to you for much longer, not unless you come through on your end, Audrey."

"I can't …" Tears sting my eyes as I manage to pull away from his ironclad grip. "I can't, Jason. I'm sorry."

Upon reaching the elevator, I press the ground floor button and wait for the doors to slide closed. I see Jason coming out of his office and staring at me with a sullen look on his face. The remaining seconds seem to last forever before I lose sight of him, but as soon as the doors close, I burst into tears.

All the pain and anguish that I've been holding on to for quite some time now breaches the surface, and I start sobbing like a little girl. I hardly register the cab pulling up outside the office building. He was just rolling by, but I managed to hail him and get in the backseat. I barely remember where I asked him to take me.

It's not until I see the hotel up ahead, about three blocks down from Jason's office, that I regain some of my clarity.

Chicago is not my home anymore.