Page 2 of Lies like Rubies, Part One

When Lizzie tightened her grip around my neck, he raised his eyes to mine. “Is that okay, mamma?” he asked me.

Panic rolled through me. No, I didn’t want to hand my daughter over to a stranger, even a kind doctor who’d hidden us in his bathroom while he dealt with my daughter’s abusive father.

Sharp green eyes observed how closely I gripped my daughter. His brow furrowed before smoothing out into a gentle smile.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he said, his voice soft and reassuring. “Why don’t the two of you come out together, and you can hold her while I check her out?”

I exhaled, puffing my cheeks, then kissed my daughter’s head. The doctor didn’t intend us any harm. He’d protected us from Sergio when he didn’t have to. I could let go of my control for a minute so he could examine my daughter while I sought my composure.

After a long moment, I nodded.

“Sweetheart? Lizzie, we’re safe now, I promise,” I murmured into the top of her head. “He’s a doctor. He wants to make sure you’re okay, all right? You can trust him.”

I prayed I wasn’t lying to her.

Lizzie loosened her death grip on me and allowed the doctor to take her in his arms. He walked her to his desk, setting her down so her legs dangled over his when he sat.

Thoughtfully, he kept the door open, so I could see what he did while I calmed my pounding heart and steadied my shaking hands.

Shit.

I pressed my hands to my eyes, stemming the tide of hot tears threatening to spill. I needed to pull myself together, for Lizzie’s sake. She didn’t need to know how close we’d come, again, to ending up in her father’s grasping hands.

God.

I’d been so stupid, believing that he didn’t care I was a goddamned mafia princess, that he was in love with me. Lizzie and I would pay the price for my naiveté for the rest of our lives.

I splashed water over my face, carefully wiping off the mascara that dripped down my face and repairing my makeup before stiffening my spine and walking into the doctor’s office.

He grinned up at me with a megawatt smile, the kind I’d long learned meant bad news for my heart. “Your daughter’s a trooper.”

I ruffled Lizzie’s dark locks, one more thing she’d inherited from her father.

“She is,” I agreed. “How’s she doing?” Lizzie reached for me, and I scooped her into my arms, propping her on my hip.

“She’ll be okay, I think, physically, at least.”

I exhaled with a puff.Physically, at least.Damning words from a pediatrician. I closed my eyes against the hot tears threatening to slide down my cheeks. I refused to let them fall, not now, not ever.

The doctor looked at me with my kid on my hip and a designer bag on my arm, pretending I was calm, cool, and collected after our brief and terrifying flight.

“Is there someone you can call to get you out of here safely?” he asked me, his eyes soft with compassion.

I shook my head. When I started school years ago, I’d refused a bodyguard, wanting to pretend I was a regular college student like everyone else. If I were to call my family now—shit.How am I going to get home?

The doctor watched me, his clear eyes open and kind, as I worked through what to tell him about my options. My hand trembled as I reached into my purse to find my phone. Lizzie squirmed on my hip, and I let her slide down my body.

“Give mamma a moment, okay, sweetheart?”

Lizzie nodded and toddled off to a corner, where the pediatrician had set up a place for children to play with brightly colored toys and soft padding on the floor.

“Is there a back door?” I asked. “Another way out?”

The doctor sighed. “Are you in trouble?”

I laughed bitterly. “Do you know who I am?”

He raised a blond eyebrow, smiling. “I’d like to.”

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