11. ISABELLA

Chapter 11

ISABELLA

The comfortable car speeds through the night on the dark, creepy back roads lined with tall trees that flash past us. Andrey has heated my seat, and I snuggle into the warm, soft leather, yawning.

The past few nights, I haven’t slept through an entire night. Then, when I do get a nice comfy hotel bed that’s not in a murder house or has guards, or God knows who else, sneaking in to spy on me while I’m sleeping, I’m yanked from my sleep and set on the run again.

Now we’re headed to Canada on our way to what my brother likes to call my destiny. Like, I’m some sort of superhero about to save the fucking world. When all I really am is a pawn in a war started by my father and Ivan Belov. My hand goes to my stomach. I’ll be damned if I let those two men pull my children into their shit.

“Why don’t you try to get some sleep?” Andrey says. “We have about a four-hour drive before we get to the border.”

“I don’t know if I can fall asleep,” I lie. “But maybe we could talk?”

Andrey glances at me and nods. “Okay. What do you want to talk about?”

As I’m about to talk, the nausea hits me hard and fast. “Pull over.”

Andrey immediately veers the car to the side of the road, barely stopping before I fling the door open and stumble out. My stomach lurches violently, and I barely have time to kneel before I’m hurling into the grass. I feel Andrey’s strong hands gently gathering my hair, holding it back with one hand while the other rubs soothing circles on my back.

“Breathe, Isabella. Just breathe,” he says softly, his voice steady and comforting.

After what feels like an eternity, the nausea subsides. I sit back on my heels, exhausted and shaky. Andrey is already by my side, handing me a bottle of water.

“Here, rinse your mouth,” he says. “I’ll find the toothpaste.”

I take the water gratefully, rinsing and spitting until the awful taste is gone. Andrey returns with my bag, digging through it until he finds the toothpaste and a small toothbrush. He hands them to me, and I quickly brush my teeth, feeling a bit more human afterward.

“Thank you,” I say weakly.

Andrey nods, then reaches into a bag from the back seat. “Rodrigo put some provisions in the car for us. Here, try these.” He hands me a small pack of ginger cookies. “They might help settle your stomach.”

I take a cookie, nibbling on it slowly. “Thank you, Andrey.”

He smiles, his eyes softening. “Of course. Are you feeling better?” He watches me intently. “Think you’re ready to continue?”

“Yes.” I nod.

“Let’s get you back in the car.” He offers me his hand, and as soon as it engulfs mine, sparks shoot up my arm and hit me right in the clit. I swallow and force my mind off the throbbing between my legs as Andrey guides me back to the car. “You need to rest.”

We settle back into the seats. Andrey reaches into the back and pulls out a soft, fluffy blanket.

“It looks like Rodrigo thought of everything.” I sigh, clutching my cookies as Andrey adjusts the blanket over me.

“Here’s a pillow as well.” He hands it to me. “Morning sickness can also be brought on by stress and anxiety.”

“Okay, Doctor Belov,” I say with a grin.

“It’s true.” He nods. “And you’ve had your fair share of that over these past eight weeks.”

“Now that is true,” I agree with him and munch on another cookie.

It’s not long, and the gentle hum of the car mixed with the soft texture of the blanket soon lulls me into a much-needed rest. As I drift off, I admit that I also feel safe with Andrey by my side.

I wake up surprised to find out I’ve been sleeping for almost four hours. I stretch in my seat as Andrey slows down.

“Hello, sleepy head,” Andrey greets me and catches me off guard with his playful tone. “We have to stop for gas before we cross the border.”

“Are we already in Derby Line?” I glance around. The world is still dark as it’s four in the morning, but the gas station is well-lit and has a diner attached to it.

“Yes.” Andrey nods, pulling up next to a pump.

“Do you think they have a bathroom?” I have an urge to pee.

“Can you hold it while I fill up?”

“No.” I emphasize the word. “I’ll be okay.” I see a sign pointing to the bathrooms inside the diner. “These bathrooms are inside the diner.”

“Okay.” Andrey nods. “Go, but be careful.”

I nod and slide out of the car, shivering as a blast of cold autumn air hits me. Fuck! I snuggle into my jacket, wishing I could take my blanket and heated seat with me. The toilet seat is probably going to freeze to my ass. It’s so cold out here.

The lady behind the counter gives me a large key and points to the bathroom. I turn and can see Andrey through the large diner windows, keeping a close eye on me. I wave and walk into the bathroom to relieve my bursting bladder.

A few minutes later, I’m washing my hands when there’s a thumping on the bathroom door and I freeze. My heart starts to accelerate as I stand and stare at the door. I nearly jump out of my skin when a voice booms through it.

“Isabella!” Andrey barks as he knocks. “Are you okay in there?”

Jesus! My hand goes to my stomach. “It’s okay, little beans. It’s not the big bad thing this time. That’s your really complex and confusing father,” I tell them, walking toward the door. As I unlock it, I nearly get knocked over when Andrey pushes himself in. “For fuck sake Andrey.”

“Oh!” Andrey looks at me, surprised. “Sorry. I thought you’d fainted or were getting sick again.”

“So you thought you’d barge in and gloat over how horrible I’m feeling?” My eyes narrow. “What? You think karma is making me feel God awful because I didn’t rush out and tell you I’m pregnant?”

Now why the fuck would I say all that shit? I have no idea where that even bubbled up from! Because you have a guilty conscience over not wanting to tell Andrey about the babies.

Andrey’s eyes narrow dangerously, and his jaw clenches.

“Why are you always so antagonistic toward me?” he asks. “Can’t we just try to get along?” His eyes bore into mine. “I’ve been trying really hard here, Isabella. I’m trying to talk to you and not at you. Trying to work around you running off with my children with no intention of telling me.”

“Okay!” I stop him. “I’m really sorry.” I hold up my hands. “I’m all over the place moody lately.” I swallow. “I guess I just have a lot of guilt about not letting you know sooner about the babies.”

Andrey’s mouth drops slightly open as he gapes at me, looking shell-shocked.

“Are you okay?”

“I…” He shakes his head as if trying to clear it. “Did you just give me a really roundabout apology?”

“I guess.” I shrug and sniff the air. “Oh God! Pancakes.”

“You can smell pancakes?” He sniffs the air.

“Can we have some?” I look at him pleadingly. “I’m starving.”

He steps back so I can exit the bathroom, pulls the door closed, locks it, and takes the key. “I guess we can stop for a while for an early breakfast.”

The woman who gave me the key to the bathroom seats us at the booth. Andrey seats himself in a position where he can keep watch of our surroundings. The woman brings my pancakes and ginger tea.

Andrey has bacon and eggs. While I munch on my breakfast, he asks. “Do you think we can try to get along?” His eyes meet mine. “At least while we’re figuring out all this shit with our faceless enemy and our road trip?”

“That depends.” My brow rises. “Can you stop being such a dominating control freak?” I pour more maple syrup and squirt cream onto my pancakes. “I figure we need to work together—like partners.”

“I think I heard your brother tell you that you need to listen to me.” I see a teasing glint in his eyes.

“Only when necessary,” I translate the meaning of my brother’s words for him. “And that does not mean you can dominate my entire existence.”

“Noted,” Andrey surprises me by saying. He picks up the mug of coffee. “How about you listen when I need you to and stop trying to escape?’

“Okay,” I nod. “Only if you stop locking me in and treating me like I’m a prized racehorse. Rather, be honest with me and let me into the plans or what’s going on. If you know what’s going on, maybe I can be more prepared for whatever’s coming.”

“I will try my best,” Andrey promises. “Will you promise me not to try and escape and listen when needed?”

“Didn’t I already agree to that?”

“You said okay!” Andrey points out. “That’s not yes, I promise. That’s a maybe.”

I roll my eyes and sigh. “Okay, yes, I agree not to run away and to listen when needed.”

“Thank you.” He takes out the wallet and puts some bills on the table. “Are you almost done with your food?”

“Yes.” I nod. “I wish I could take some ginger tea with me.”

“The waitress is making you an extra large cup to go,” Andrey tells me and grins. “I asked when I came in looking for you.”

My eyes widen in surprise, and I swallow as more guilt hits me. Andrey does these little nice little things. Like ordering my favorite yogurt when I was staying at his penthouse. Making sure all my favorite fruit was stocked. He even bought my favorite chocolate bars, which he must’ve asked my father or James about because I never told him about them.

When I was hurling my guts out at the side of the road, he knelt beside me and had everything I needed on hand when I was done. Now, he ordered ginger tea for me to go without me having to ask.

“Is everything alright?” He frowns. “Have I grown two heads?”

I laugh. “No.” I shake my head. “I just wanted to say thank you, Andrey.”

“For…” He gives me a suspicious look.

“Always anticipating what I need and ensuring you have it at hand for me.”

Again, he stares at me in shock for a moment. “You’re welcome.” I get another suspicious look. “Are you already planning your next escape?” he teases. “Or am I dying, and I don’t know about it?”

I laugh again. “You can be really sweet at times.”

“Sweet!” Andrey grabs his heart as we stand. “I wouldn’t describe myself as sweet.” He shudders. “Especially to my men and enemies.”

As we start walking toward the door, an SUV pulls up to the pumps. Andrey stops me, and we step back out of view.

“Fuck!” Andrey mutters under his breath. “They know we must be on the way to the border.”

“Shit!” I watch as a big guy gets out of the car. “That’s the guy I shot.”

“What?” Andrey looks at me in surprise but quickly gets his mind back on the situation.

“Back at the lodge.”

“There’s a back door,” the waitress tells us, balancing our plates. “I noticed you parked your car around there.” She smiles at us. “And those two aren’t cops or Feds.”

“Force of habit,” Andrey replies and looks at her suspiciously.

“I’ve been running for three years from bastards like that,” she tells us. “Now get into the kitchen.” She opens the door to the kitchen and quickly puts the plates inside. “Go to the next town over, Beebe Plain.”

“Thanks,” I say to her.

“If you head toward the farmhouse at the back of the diner, go straight past it, and you will get onto a back road that will lead to Caswell Avenue. Head west until you get to Beebe Road. That will take you to the border crossing.”

“Really, thank you…” I glance at her name badge. “Rose.”

“Of course.” Something flashes in her eyes. “Now go. And good luck. Take care of your little ones.” She smiles and glances at my stomach. “Oh..” She grabs a large silver flask. “Here’s your ginger tea.”

On impulse, I hug her. “Please be careful.”

We don’t know this woman, and here she is, risking her life to help us. My eyes mist over as Andrey drags me through the kitchen and out the back door as we hear the bell for the front of the diner open.

As we rush out the back door, the cool night air hits my face, jolting me into full alertness. Andrey guides me swiftly toward the car, his grip firm but gentle. His eyes dart around, assessing every shadow and movement.

“Stay close,” he whispers, his voice a blend of urgency and reassurance. “We need to move quickly and quietly.”

I nod, my heart pounding in my chest. The fear of being caught intertwines with the adrenaline, making every step feel both urgent and surreal. I suppress a shudder as Andrey walks into the wooded area that surrounds the diner, and I spot our car hidden among the trees.

Andrey quickly unlocks it and slips inside. He starts the engine, and the car hums quietly to life, but I hold my breath as its soft purr suddenly sounds like a huge roar.

“Do you really think she’s not setting us up?” he asks, his voice low and tense. “I hope we can trust her directions and we’re not riding straight into a trap.”

“I’m sure,” I reply, my breath coming in short bursts. “I saw the pain and anger in her eyes. I think she’s been through a lot .“ My heart squeezes. “I hope she’s okay.”

“I’m sure that the huge chef who was quietly cooking in the corner and watching us with his automatic weapon on the shelf behind him will help her.” Andrey’s words make my eyes widen in alarm.

“What?”