Chapter 33
Lucia
The wind whistles through the breaks in the glass. My elbows and knees feel flimsy, the feebleness noticeable. I vomited the tea and crackers from this morning hours ago.
The physical sensation is nothing compared to the emotional battering. Tristan doing this is the only rational explanation. But then I remember his texts. He wanted to talk. And my heart argues he couldn’t have. That him doing this doesn’t make sense either.
I wonder, is this how my mother felt when my father proved her wrong? She swore he’d been wrongly incriminated. But was her defense of my father rooted in her refusal to believe she could have been so wrong about another person? Because for the first time in my life, if that’s the case, I feel her inner turmoil.
Obviously, Tristan is privileged and spoiled. But those attributes do not equate to evil.
It will be a week before Khalani raises concerns with authorities. She’ll assume I’m working hard, or maybe I’m dealing with the pregnancy. But, if I don’t get back to her by possibly Sunday, she’ll aggressively search for me. She’ll start by contacting one of our mutual acquaintances at Lumina. And Peltz? What on earth did Tristan tell people at work? Yesterday was the first time I called in sick in over eight years of employment. What did Mr. Peltz think when I didn’t show today?
He’d been concerned for me yesterday, and even asked if there was anything he could do for me. What did he think today when I didn’t show? When I didn’t respond to what must have been dozens of emails and texts?
I don’t have any idea what is happening, but I’m not helpless. If I ride this out for a couple of days, maybe the staff he’s hired to keep me here will become complacent. I can break the pitcher and water glass and use the remnants as weapons. The broken window itself can turn into a weapon. I can use the pillow cases to bandage my hands and protect them from the glass wedges.
If the doctor visits without the armed guard, I can take him. Presumably, someone will bring food, and if the guard doesn’t arrive with that person, I may overpower that person.
Tristan himself might come and I can plead with him. Of course, as soon as he lets me go, I’ll go to the authorities. I don’t care who he is or how much money he has, he’s a danger to society. A danger to other women.
I genuinely believed he cared, but I couldn’t have been more wrong.
Or fuck me, was I wrong? I can’t believe he’d do this.
A sound much like a door creaking has me curling my legs up against myself. Faint footfalls sound growing louder at a faster clip than earlier.
It sounds like one person. Will it be the doctor? The man with guns? Or someone else? Someone who might provide insights into what has happened today.
Metal rattles and the knob on the door trembles. I suck in a breath of air, waiting, fearful. Determined.
The door swings open, and I can’t quite believe what I’m seeing.
Tristan.
My eyes sting, and I blink furiously, attempting to tamp down a swirl of emotions. My gaze locks on his eyes as he rushes to me.
“Lucia. Are you okay?”
He reaches for me and I flinch, scooting away from him, not allowing him anywhere near me. My booted feet fall hard on the floor opposite the bed and I back up to the wall.
Confusion crosses his face, but he scans the area and his hand falls to his waist where there’s a holster. He’s wearing a black vest with a shoulder holster, too.
Did he come to kill me?
“Is anyone else here?”
I shake my head in answer.
“Did they hurt you?”
They ?
“Lucia, did they hurt you?”
He rounds the bed, coming towards me, and I back up, cornered. I should have broken something, but I can knee him. If he comes close, I can bite him, I can pull his hair, I can grab the gun at his shoulder.
“Lucia. Are you okay?”
Concern drips from his words.
“Did you do this?” My question shakes, far too weak, and I hate myself for hoping. I should run past him. Get away.
“What? No. No, as soon as I figured out you’d been taken, I’ve—” He stops, placing two fingers to his ear.
“I’ve got her. No sign of tangos. In the tower.” There’s a pause, and he says, “Copy.” His eyes continue to rove over my body, and I cover my chest with my hands. “Are you injured?”
I can’t quite force out words. My throat is tight, my eyes burn with dryness or the threat of tears, but confusion reigns.
He steps forward and I squeeze into the corner as if the wall might absorb me if I try hard enough.
“Did you do this?”
“What? Why would you think that?”
Why would I? Because who else would?
“Lucia, I’d never do anything to harm you.”
“But you don’t want the…” my hand falls to my flat middle and comprehension dawns.
“Lucia. No.” His eyes plead. “I wanted to talk to you about the pregnancy. I wouldn’t abduct you. What kind of man do you think I am?”
A lone tear rolls down my cheek. He’s saying exactly what I want to hear, but I don’t want to be a fool. He could be lying to me.
“Lucia, I tracked down the man who picked you up. I would have given up everything to find you. Please. You’ve got to believe me. I didn’t do this, love.”
“Then who did?”
“I’m not sure. But they’re gonna pay.” He offers me his hand. “We can’t stay here. They’re going to return.”
His comment reminds me of the two men I have seen. And the woman.
“There’s a man with a gun. Multiple guns. He came to see me with a doctor.”
“A doctor?”
His arm remains extended, and I stare at the hand, piecing together what he’s saying, his presence, with what I know.
“He checked to see if I was pregnant. That’s why I thought it had to be you.” I search his face, wanting to believe him. If he was going to kill me, wouldn’t he just shoot me? “You and Khelani are the only people who know, and Khelani is in the United States.”
“He checked—how? What exactly did the doctor do?”
“He had a sonogram machine. At least, that’s what I think it was. It looked old. The plastic was faded and dingy. He didn’t find a heartbeat, but he said it could be the machine or that I’m too early.” Tristan’s wearing a watch band I haven’t seen before. It’s thick black rubber. “He told me I wouldn’t be having the baby. I offered to take a pill, to abort it, if he’d just let me go.” My eyes burn and I breathe in deeply. I can’t cry. I need my vision. “I don’t think he wanted?—”
A dizzy sensation overwhelms me and I press myself harder against the wall.
“He knew you were pregnant?”
Nausea circles, but I know I won’t vomit. I can’t. There’s nothing to vomit.
“Lucia, come here, love.” I hesitate, but allow him to cup my elbow and pull me into his chest. His heart beats beneath my ear and I close my eyes as they fill with tears. His arms wrap around me and I stand there, resting against him, willing the dizziness to lessen.
“I almost lost my mind. I feared the worst.” He presses his lips to the top of my head and his arms around me tighten.
“Who are they?”
“I don’t know. But, I promise you I will find out. I thought it was a case I was working on, but the pregnancy…that doesn’t equate.”
“A case?”
“I work for Interpol. No one knows. I’ve been trying to pinpoint some bad people that I believe work for Lumina. I thought they had you.” His palm rubs up and down my back.
“So you didn’t take me to force me to not have the baby?” From what he’s saying, it sounds like he didn’t, but I need clarity.
He pulls back and holds onto my arms. “I told you the truth. If you want this child, I’ll be there. For you and the baby. It’s…in my line of work, it’s not necessarily ideal, but we’ll make it work. Lucia, I love you. I don’t think I fully realized it until they took you, but Lucia, if I lost you…I’d lose myself. I’m not letting them near you again.”
It only took someone kidnapping me for him to realize he loved me. That’s not particularly heart-warming. But my heart pipes up, arguing with my head, saying he loves me.
“I had a whole grovel planned. I fucked up royally with my reaction. I’m so sorry. It’s just…I was taken completely off guard.”
“So was I.”
“I know. It’s no excuse. Believe me, I know.”
His fingers go back to his ear, and losing the heat from his touch has me replacing his hand with mine. My thoughts are slow as he tilts his head.
“How many?” He asks the air. I look closer and see a device in his ear. He’s speaking to someone. “Copy. I’m going to secure Lucia, then I’ll meet the team downstairs.”
“What’s going on?”
“We’ve got company.”
“What do you mean by secure me?”
“There’s a cellar on the first floor. If there’s gunfire, you’ll be safe.”
He tugs my hand, attention on the door. “It’s about a five-minute drive through the estate. We don’t have much time. Let’s go.”
“Who’s coming?”
“I’m not sure, but someone left you here alone. I don’t expect the caravan to be friendly.”
I follow him to the stairs, lagging his urgent steps.
“Do you need me to carry you?”
“What? No.”
“Then hurry.”
He lifts a gun from the holster at his waist. A gun. I’ve spent almost my entire life in Europe and don’t recall coming into close contact with one until today. I stifle my fear and concentrate on descending the stairs as quickly as possible. None of this makes sense, but it’s time to trust Tristan.