Page 70 of Southpaw Slots

The morning sicknessisn’tjust because of Asa’s baby inside me, it’s also because I’m nervous. I don’t like this. Something iswrong.

I just wish I knew what it was.

“Ready, Mrs. Donovan?” Leo is annoying, but at least he’s quiet.

“Yes, thank you.” Being the dutiful wife, I place my hand in his and let him help me alight from the high running board.

We head inside the first boutique, and Leo follows me behind my right shoulder. My fingers trail over the fabric of every item I pass as I pretend to look at various pregnancy outfits for the third trimester.

I remember in school, Mona Lee Chatterly fell in love with me. Or was just obsessed with me. I was nice to her once and loaned her my sparkly heart pen, and from then on, she clung to me wherever I went.

It was rather embarrassing because I was trying to impress Kimmie that year. And every time Mona would sneak up behind me with her plaid skirt way too long and her shirt tail untucked, her thick glassesmaking her eyes seem way too big, Kimmie would sneer at me and walk away.

So, what did I do?

Did I tell Kimmie to fuck off and accept poor Mona for who she was?

Of course not. I was in seventh grade and lacking in true friendships. IneededKimmie to deem me with her attention. So, I wandered to our overly flirtatious history teacher and asked him if he would separate me and Mona because she was making me feel uncomfortable. That I wasafraidfor my life. That I thought Mona was dangerous. But she wasn’t.

I was.

“Excuse me a minute. Just going to try this on,” I tell Leo, who still tries to follow me into the dressing room. “Um, I don’t feel comfortable with you there.”

“Mrs…” Leo gives me a warning nod, but he takes a deep breath and stands close to the entrance of the little rooms in the back. “Fine. I’ll wait right here for you. But you have five minutes only.”

The attendant seems to notice as I shirk back from him and let my shoulders slump. A defeated, battered woman. She approaches us slowly.

“Can I help you with anything, miss?”

“Yes, please, I’d like to try this on.” Darting a shifty glance to my guard, I lower my voice. “But I’m only allowed five minutes.”

The woman’s eyes scan Leo’s big frame and, if her gaze was filled with daggers,he’d be dead.

“Let me help you. Come with me.” Once we bustle to the back, she lowers her voice. “Are you in danger in any way?”

I muster up pregnancy tears, nodding as I bite my bottom lip. Whispering, I ask, “Can you help me get out of here?”

Tossing her arm around me in womanly solidarity, she pulls me to a back door. “Yes, I can. D-do you want me to call someone for you? The police?”

“No! Not the police.” Oh, god. If Strauss’s men show up, it would be over for me. “I just need to evade him for a while and call a friend to get me.”

She pushes on the metal bar and the afternoon’s summer sun streams in. It’s warm when I step out behind the row of shops in a small alley. “Good luck. If you need anything, come back and knock.”

“Thank you. You saved me!” And she did, in a way.

As I hurry along toward the end of the long row of interconnected brick buildings, I pull out my phone to alert my ride. A large dumpster will provide the perfect cover for me as I make the call, so if Leo steps out, he won’t see me.

Just as I round the corner of it, I freeze. A woman who could only be described as a blonde Viking stands in a long red satin dress and a string of high pearls that collar her neck. Her hair is coiffed into an elegant French twist, perfect makeup adorning her face. Standing maybe six feet tall, the woman teeters abovemy shorter frame. She’s mesmerizing. But her expression is unsettling.

Stoic, unafraid, and devoid of human emotion.

As she spots me, her hand comes from around her back and holds up a tiny silver pistol. “Mrs. Arianna Donovan. You’re coming with me.” Her voice rings out in a reverberating sound that echoes off the walls surrounding us.

“Or you’ll shoot me?” I ask, hoping to stall so Leo can catch up.

I’m an idiot. If this is Strauss’s person…I’m fucked.

“Yes. Move forward.” Her lithe arm points the way to the end of the alley, and as she turns her body, I catch a dark branding on her exposed shoulder where the dress cuts in.

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