Page 35 of Ruthless God

“It’s fine.” I turn toward Claudius. “How long should I pack for?”

“At least a month.”

“Guess that means I won’t be handing out candy on Halloween.” I sigh when no one laughs. “Give me ten.”

Lili and Harvey both start to follow, but I hold up my hand.

“I’ll be fine. Really.”

Hurt flickers across Harvey’s face, but he knows me well enough not to press the issue. I need to be alone right now.

In my room, I close the door, leaning against it. What in the hell am I going to do? Normally, I’m fantastic under pressure. A lifetime of traumatic responses, all thanks to my mother. Because of her, I’ve had to be quick on my feet, ready for anything at any time. But this? This is something I don’t think anyone could prepare for.

I sit on my bed, grabbing the notebook and pen from my nightstand. Turning to a new page, I start a list.

Reasons My Life Is Royally Fucked:

Gabriel, who I fucked, has an identical twin. Down to the scar. And for some reason, I find his asshole twin as sexy as him. WTF is wrong with me?

Oh, and Gabriel might not be Gabriel, since Dimitri referred to him in past tense, as if he died?

I’m pregnant. But maybe the scary twin can help me find Gabriel? Circle back to #2.

My father is alive. I wonder if my mother knows?

For some reason, someone is out to get me because of who my father is.

I sit back, looking over the list. It looks and sounds ridiculous. Like, this is something that happens in movies or the telenovelas that Harvey likes to watch when he thinks no one is home. Things like this don’t happen in real life. But, if that were true, then why did Dimitri look worried?

Hot tears fill my eyes.

No one is going to help me, so I guess going with Claudius is my best option.

I grab a backpack from my closet, yanking it open with shaky hands. My mind races as I shove in clothes, toiletries, anything I think I might need for the next month. I don’t bother folding because there’s no time for that. Just grab, shove, repeat.

My gaze lands on the box of tampons sitting on my desk, and a small, breathless laugh escapes me. Won’t be needing those. Still, something inside me hesitates. Old habits, maybe. Or denial. Either way, I grab the box and shove it into my bag anyway, as if packing it might make everything feel normal again. As if normal is even an option anymore.

I scan the room once more, making sure I haven’t forgotten anything essential. Then my eyes fall on my nightstand, on the thick, battered copy ofThe Art of Warsitting there.

For a moment, I just stare at it. I’ve made more than enough money to cover Harvey’s bills over the last few months. Therest will get him through the upcoming months until he’s well enough to return to work.

Then, with careful hands, I pick it up and place it on my bed. For Harvey. A silent message. A goodbye without saying the words.

With a deep breath, I zip my backpack shut, grab the handle, and walk out without looking back.

8

Claudius

I stand near the doorway, arms crossed, my stance relaxed but ready just in case Ms. Blight gets any ideas about running. She’s been compliant so far, but fear does strange things to people. I’ve seen it enough times to know better than to let my guard down.

Across the room, Santos’ wife sits beside her former roommate, their voices hushed, words meant only for each other. There’s grief in the way they hold themselves, in the way their hands occasionally brush. It’s a silent exchange of comfort neither of them can afford to show outright.

Santos watches them, his expression hard, but his eyes give him away. He wants to ask, but he already knows the answer before the words leave his mouth.

“Where are you taking her?”

I meet his gaze, steady. “You know I can’t tell you that, Santos. Just know she’ll be safe.”

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