Page 74 of Innocent Bratva Twins

“No, no one did anything. The doctor said I, um—he said I had a panic attack.” I decide it’s the story I should stick to for now.

“Fuck. That’s horrible. I’m so sorry,” he says quietly.

I press my lips together. I’m angry about everything. I’m scared and unsure about what to do; I don’t know where to go or what is going to happen after this. But I know that shouting at Luka isn’t going to solve anything. I’m too tired to fight, anyway. It’s like the exhaustion is swimming in my bloodstream, and I need to sleep for a week to recover from it.

Luka pulls out his phone and glances at the screen, reading a message.

“Nico will be here in fifteen minutes. He was looking for you at your apartment. Actually, I was on my way to look there, too, but luckily, I parked out front, so I found you there,” he says tightly, waiting for me to be angry or shout or react.

I nod. “Thanks again for helping me. And for letting me know about Nico being on his way.”

Nico can come. This is a public hospital. It’s not like he can drag me out of here without attracting a lot of attention. The only way I’m leaving is of my own free will, going whereIwant to go. It’s my choice now, and he’s going to have to accept that.

“I’m going to wait outside. Unless you want company?” Luka gestures towards the door and then towards the chair in the back of the room.

“I’m okay alone,” I say without looking at him.

I need to think.

I suddenly have a little life growing inside me—a life that I am responsible for. My choices are no longer just my own.

What happens from now on affects them, too.

Luka disappears through the doors. I hear a chair squeak as he sets the bulk of his weight into it. One of those plastic hospital chairs, no doubt.

I close my eyes, and without realizing it, I fall asleep.

When I wake up, Nico is standing over me, his face etched with worry. Half of his shirt is untucked, and his hair is a mess. Dark shadows under his eyes tell me he hasn’t slept.

“You look like shit,” I remark, letting my tired eyes drift over him.

Sighing, I close them again. Any second now, he’s going to start lecturing me about escaping. He’s going to be furious about how stupid I was for trying to get away, and he’s going to go on and on about how he knows what’s best—I’m too tired. I don’t care.

“Sera, Luka said you had a panic attack. And when I spoke to the doctor, he kept saying you have to rest for a few days. He said you are exhausted—“

I bite my lip, opening my eyes again to look at him.

Where is the angry Nico I was expecting?

When my eyes meet his, though, I don’t see even an ounce of anger.

All I see is fear. What’s going on? Did something else happen? Why is he behaving like this?

“What happened?” I ask, instinctively reaching up to touch his cheek. “Why do you look so bad?” The tiredness in me is momentarily pushed aside as worry for him rushes through me; he looks like he’s been in a war.

“Are you kidding? I couldn’t find you. I thought they took you. I was terrified,” he blurts out, a little angry, but he bites it back, and I realize the fear was over losing me.

My heart aches to be in his arms, but I push it away.

I have to worry about my baby now.

“Sera, I get it—you’re going to keep trying to get out. I can’t force you to stay with me. But if you stay in your own apartment, it won’t be safe. Can you come back to the penthouse with me, just for tonight? I’ll leave you with a set of keys to prove I’m not locking you in there. By tomorrow, I will have arranged a safe house for you. You can stay there until this is over, and after that you can go wherever you want.” The last few words are dryand quiet when he says them, as though it's painful for him to tell me that.

His eyes are locked with mine, waiting, desperate.

I chew the inside of my cheek, watching his expression, searching for any trace of a lie.

All I see is worry.

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