Page 11 of Scorch

Lydia, please call me. It’s urgent

And then another text from a number I don’t recognize.

Lydia, this is Nikko Romanov, your brother-in-law. It is imperative we secure your location and bring you to safety.

What the hell is going on?

I jump when the door to the bathroom opens, and I hear the click of heels on the tiled floor. I hold my breath as the footsteps approach. I reach into my bag and take out my pepper spray, my finger trembling on the trigger. But I only hear the door to a stall shut.

I’m losing my mind.

I put the pepper spray back.

I’ve made this into something much, much bigger than it actually is. I’m at a fancy restaurant. With the man I’m going to marry. Vera’s being dramatic or influenced by her new husband.

With trembling fingers, I text Vera back.

Okay what is going on?

It’s too much to text and something I don’t want to communicate this way. I don’t know if your phone is tapped. It’s important to come home so we can chat. Are you alright? Are you safe?

I blink. My phone… tapped?

I’m hiding in a bathroom stall. My fiancé is acting strange, and my phone’s blowing up with cryptic messages about my safety. No, of course I’m not alright.

I’m fine, don’t worry. I’ll call you after dinner, okay?

I slide my phone into my bag and leave the stall. The door opens again, letting in another woman dressed in a silky ivory cocktail dress, but I barely notice her. Timur stands outside the door, leaning casually up against the wall, his hands in his pockets.

I go to him.

“I need to call my sister soon. She said she needs to talk with me,” I tell him when I exit. The pinched expression on his face has vanished, and instead, he looks like the polished, civilized man who proposed to me while bathed in sunset hues on a beach in Maui. I breathe out a sigh of relief.

“Oh? Our first dish has arrived. Can it wait? You said you were starving. I’ll expedite the delivery of the rest of our food, and we’ll leave early so you can call her.”

He ushers me back to our table, matching my strides as we walk hand in hand. I wonder if I imagined the grumpiness from before. This is the Timur I can’t wait to be with.

“Thank you. I could tell she’d rather talk to me in person.”

Timur leans in and reaches for my hand. “I’m sorry, Lydia. I shouldn’t have been so rude before. I had a day from hell.” He smiles at me, his warm brown eyes crinkling around the edges. A little dimple in his cheek flashes at me. I’m not sure why something makes my stomach dip with nerves, and a prickle of fear skates across the back of my neck.

This is Timur. My future husband. He’s never hurt me. Maybe I had too much to drink.

“Forgive me?”

“Of course.”

My phone buzzes again, and Timur scowls. He hates cell phones and especially hates being interrupted.

“Sorry. She’s really worried.”

“About what?” he asks as he takes a stuffed mushroom and slides one onto my plate. I’d rather eat two, but he’s distracted.

“No idea.” I reach for another roll to go with the mushroom, but he scowls disapprovingly.

“What?”

“The wedding’s coming, and you said you were watching your carbs,” he says with a shrug.

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