Chapter 23 Amara
AMARA
“That driver of yours sure was persistent,” Electra says as we sit down at a cafe down the block. Ivan parked out front and is sitting at a table on the other side of the restaurant, pretending to read a newspaper. “Does he always follow you around like this?” she asks.
“Ransome insists,” I tell her.
It’s the understatement of the year. Ransome would have his ass if he knew Ivan was allowing me to have lunch with Electra.
One, he was very insistent that Ivan take me to the massage parlor and back home and nowhere else.
But also, Ransome has never been a fan of Electra, and has never been subtle about it.
But honestly? I don’t care. Which is why I told Ivan to tell Ransome that the massage left me famished and I needed lunch ASAP before I got nauseous.
“It’s wild to me that you’re back,” she says. “And that you’re seeing him again. I thought you said he was kind of a dick.”
“He is,” I admit, taking a bite of my BLT and savoring it. Ransome says bacon isn’t good for babies. Something about the nitrates. The way the little man is swimming around inside me right now says he likes bacon just fine.
“It’s also crazy that you’re pregnant. Very pregnant. And you didn’t tell me,” she says with hurt in her eyes. She hasn’t touched her chicken salad.
I bite my lips. “I’m sorry. But I couldn’t. I literally changed everything. My address, my phone number, my car. I was even going by a different name for a while.”
“That’s just wild.” She shakes her head. “What kind of guys was Gianni involved with that would be so dangerous?”
“Guys from the shop,” I lie. Although it’s only partially a lie. After all, Tristan was involved with cars.
She takes in a breath and lets it out. “Well, I’m just glad you’re all okay. And I’m glad you’re back too. We have so much to catch up on,” she says with a grin. And I know that grin.
“Alright, spill it,” I tell her, taking another bite. “Which guy are you seeing now?”
“Actually, it’s the same one.”
I stop chewing. “The same one?” I rack my brain trying to remember who she’s talking about. Then it hits: Mr. Could-Be-The-One. “Wait. Wasn’t that guy kind of a dick?”
“I mean, he was territorial, yes. But isn’t Ransome?”
“Ransome is a different breed,” I tell her.
“Well, so is this guy. Also, he has money. Lots of it.” She smiles into her mimosa. “And he lets me do whatever I want.”
“Sounds too good to be true,” I tell her. “He doesn’t keep tabs on you at all?”
“Oh, he does. He just doesn’t care. He works a lot. From the sounds of it, he has a very important, very dangerous job.” Electra smiles like it’s a good thing.
My heart goes tight. Electra doesn’t exactly have a good track record with men, and I doubt this one is going to be any better.
Part of me wants to warn her off. To tell her all that glitters is not gold and to watch for red flags. To be careful.
On the other hand, who am I to preach? I’m with Mr. Toxic himself. Got pregnant with his baby and all. I’m not delusional enough to think I can tell anyone how to live their life.
“Well, I’m just glad we got to see each other.” I clink my diet soda to her mimosa glass. “Also, I’m glad you’re happy.” Then my smile fades a little, and I can’t help it. “Just promise me you’ll be careful. Too good to be true is never actually a good thing.”
“That was a terrible toast,” she says, but we both end up laughing.
After lunch and a very long goodbye, during which Electra talks me into exchanging phone numbers—on the condition that she can’t just blow up my phone all the time—Ivan takes me home.
Surprisingly enough, there’s no phone call or even a text from Ransome. Either he’s crazy busy or Ivan did a good job at keeping his mouth shut.
I decide to take a bath as soon as I get home. It’s been a hot minute since I’ve had a massage, and I think I forgot how sore it makes you. But the water isn’t hot enough to really penetrate my muscles, and the next thing I know, I have chills, so I get out and decide to lay down early.
For a while, I toss and turn, my brain busy with thoughts of the day.
It was wild being back out in the city today. I haven’t really been anywhere since we got back. We went straight from the airport to the hospital to the estate. It’s like I’m back, but not really.
I also can’t stop thinking about Electra. It was so good to see her today. Tears sting my eyes just thinking about it. About the freedom of her life. Random dating and moving about the city without anyone breathing over your shoulder. Without worrying about who’s watching.
A sharp pain in my belly makes me wince.
“Guess you’re tired of not being able to get comfortable too.” I sit up. “I’m sure it’s worse for you, twisted up in there like a pretzel.”
I shift positions again, this time with a pillow between my legs and one pressed against my belly to take the pressure off. Despite the discomfort, my eyes are getting heavy, and I soon find myself drifting off to sleep.
But it isn’t dreamless.
Visions of Electra flash in my mind. I imagine her on dates that don’t end with the walk of shame. The idea of her with someone more permanent is odd to me. Especially someone with so many green flags they could be mistaken for red in the wrong lighting.
I wake up in the middle of the night with a sharp pain in my belly again.
I bolt upright. My pillow is soaked with sweat and my hair is matted to my face. Either I just had one hell of a nightmare or something isn’t quite right. I’m hoping for the first one.
I decide to get a glass of water and make my way to the bathroom. As I look in the mirror, I catch my reflection. My cheeks are flushed against death-pale skin, and I have dark circles under my eyes.
I shut the water off and take my glass back to the bedroom.
But just as I’m about to lay down, I freeze.
The cup of water drops to the floor and shatters. On the other side of the room, outside the bedroom window, is a man. I can only make out his silhouette, but as he shifts, I swear I know him.
Tristan.
I blink, too afraid to move, too afraid even to scream.
And in an instant he’s gone.
I rush to my nightstand, grab my phone, and call Ransome.