Page 21 of 10 Days to Surrender

I press the Glock into her palm. Her fingers tremble. “Trust me.”

She spits at my feet. “Never.”

Growling, I grab her face, andfuck me,it’s so soft between my fingertips. She’s sun-kissed now, but still velvety to the touch. I look at her eyes because I can’t bear to let my gaze drop to her pregnant belly and all the implications it holds. “You can tell me to go fuck myself once you’re safe. For now, though, I need you to trust me.”

She searches my face. For once, I let her see it all—the fear, the want, the rot left by my father’s hands.

Her resolve cracks. “One time only.”

“That’s all I need.”

Ariel hesitates. Then she slips her hand into mine.

It fits.

Itfits.

We run.

8

ARIEL

When we finally reach the highway at the edge of town, I rip free of Sasha’s hand.

He turns and glowers at me. “The car is ten feet away, andnow, you’re stopping?”

Blood is rushing in my ears as I square off with him, my belly jutting between us like a physical reminder of all the reasons that I need to stand my ground. “We’re safe now. You don’t get to drag me back into hell just because you’ve got a hero complex.”

Sasha’s stare drops to my stomach for half a heartbeat—the first real acknowledgment—before snapping back to mine. “We’re not anywhere near safe. You think your self-righteous tantrum matters right now? Get. In. The. Car.”

“No.”

Jasmine steps between us, hands raised. “Ari, please?—”

“We’re not going with him, Jas!” My voice falters. The twins kick hard, like they’re trying to burrow out. “We’ll find another way.”

Sasha’s jaw muscle thrums as he glares at me. I try not to catalog him the way he’s clearly doing to me, but I can’t help it. I can’t help the sinking gut feeling I get when I see scars I know weren’t there before. His posture is stiff, like he’s been pieced back together with masking tape and hope.

What broke him?

“You’re pregnant,” he snarls.

“Observant.”

“For how long?”

“Long enough to know you don’t get a say in what I do.”

I resent the implication that they aren’t his—and then I resent myself for resenting that, because it’s not like I owe Sasha anything. We weren’t married. We never made promises. If I wanted to get pregnant by some other man, that would be well within my rights.

But youdidn’twant that, did you?croons the voice in my head that belongs to a sniveling little instigator who likes stirring up drama for no good reason.You still felt that tether to him like you’d never left. You thought putting an ocean between you would sever it, but it didn’t do anything of the sort. If anything, it only made you feel that much more how deep his hooks are buried in your heart.

I tell that voice to shut the fuck up.

Sasha steps closer. I smell blood on him—Serbian blood. Old violence, fresh sweat. “You think I’d hurt my child?”

“I think you’ll use anything you could get your hands on,” I fire back. “Just like you used me.”

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