Page 47 of Immaculate Deception (Romanoff Bratva)

Brigitte’s attitude towards Dima has me feeling defensive, of all things. But hadn’t I said the very same thing this morning?

On one hand, Dima rescued Lukas and me at the hospital.

On the other hand, he’s the reason we needed rescuing in the first place.

On the third hand, he showed up at the car yesterday to help me deliver Lukas when I thought I’d have to go through that whole ordeal all on my own.

And on the fourth hand, if I had in fact gone through that on my own, I’d probably be recovering in the hospital right now, safe and protected, instead of moldering in ill-fitting sweats and taking stolen medication while hiding out in a dirty motel room. Not exactly the way anyone wants to spend their maternity leave.

I don’t know. I just don’t know.

I’m out of hands twice over and nowhere closer to knowing how to feel about a single thing that’s happened to me in the last twenty-four hours.

Make that the last nine months.

Actually, make that the last few years.

Now that I think about it, it’s been a long time since I felt like I had a grasp on my life.

Maybe I just got good at pretending I was in charge.

Maybe fate has had its hands on the steering wheel the whole damn time.

“Listen,” Brigitte says, squeezing my fingers and looking deep into my eyes. “I know this guy is the father of your baby, but you don’t owe him anything. You have to look out for yourself and Lukas. If you think staying here in this motel with a mob boss is safer than coming to my house, then by all means, stay. I just want you to know you have options.”

With the options outlined like that, it’s hard to see how staying could possibly be the best choice.

Brigitte’s not done yet, either. “I know you think you’re alone in this world. But you’re not. I’ll always be your family, Arya. No matter what.”

Tears well in my eyes. I try to pin them back, but the emotion I’ve been suppressing for a long time comes spilling forth in the form of me sobbing on Brigitte’s shoulder.

She pats my back and shushes me like a baby while I cry. “It’ll be okay, girly. I’ll take care of you.”

We stay like that for a while until my sobs ease and I can breathe again.

Nothing is truly solved and I don’t feel all that much better.

But a little bit? Yeah, a little bit.

It’ll have to be enough.

Eventually, Brigitte untangles herself from me. “As nice as this is, I think we should start packing up, right?”

I wipe my nose with the back of my sleeve and nod. I grab Lukas and rouse him for another feed before we leave. We won’t want to stop once we’re on the road, so it’ll be more efficient to try and nurse him now.

As I do, Brigitte packs up my stuff. “There isn’t much here,” she says, wrinkling her nose. “Honestly, we should leave these clothes behind. You do not need to bring old lady sweats back with you. And do these say ‘Big Apple’ on the butt?”

I laugh. “Bring those. You never know when they could come in handy.”

It’s so nice to smile. To laugh. To feel for a second like my life is moving back towards normalcy.

Part of me feels bad for running out on Dima and taking Lukas with me, but Brigitte is right. My first duty is to protect him. As his mom, it’s myonlyjob.

No matter what, he comes first.

His health. His safety. His happiness.

Which is why, when the motel room door bursts open, I scream and lunge for my son.

---