Page 65 of Savage Love

Once the car is installed in a parking garage, we head to a coffee shop with the guards following us. Isabella gets a coffee, I get a decaffeinated tea, and we head down the street toward the shopping district. We spend the morning trailing through stores—a jewelry store for Isabella, where she buys a pair of heart-shaped ruby studs that catch her eye and a silver bangle bracelet, and a bookstore for me, where I buy more than I technically have time to read in a month. She picks up a few new outfits for Aisling, and we coo over baby clothes, choosing a few neutral things for the baby.

“Let’s get lunch,” she says finally, checking her watch. “What are you in the mood for?”

“You pick,” I tell her. “You’ve lived here longer.”

Isabella settles on a cute French-style cafe that she likes, one where we can sit outside under an awning. She orders a glass of wine, and I get sparkling water, with an appetizer of bread and fondue, and I feel myself relaxing a little more in the warm sunshine.

“What is it like after the baby comes?” I ask her suddenly, tearing apart a piece of bread. “Being married with a baby, I mean. You said it was hard, even if you’re in love.”

Isabella laughs, dipping a piece of bread in the cheese. “It is,” she says frankly. “You’re both sleep deprived, and you’ve never done anything like it before, and there’s suddenly this whole other person who has no one to depend on other than you. It’s a lot of worry and stress. You don’t have sex for ages—” she laughs, breaking off. “I’m sure that’s too much information, though.”

“What do you mean,ages?” One of my fears has been that Levin will use my needing to recuperate post-baby as a reason to stay out of our bed, a reason to put more distance between us that intimacy can erode. “A really long time?”

Isabella shrugs. “It depends. There’s a set time the doctor gives you, but after that, it’s really up to your comfort level. I was fine pretty much once we were cleared, which Niall was eternally grateful for.” She laughs. “But you’ve had a pretty hard pregnancy so far. It just depends on how you feel. And Levin, despite his insistence that he doesn’t love you, seems to err on the overprotective side. So there’s that, too.”

“That’s what I’m worried about.” I bite my lip. “You were right about what you said earlier—about it not being that often that we—and just to keep me happy. Or at least, that’s what he says. That it’s for me, so neither of us goes outside the marriage. But I don’t really believe him. When we—” My teeth sink deeper into my lip, and I can feel my cheeks flush.

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Isabella says gently. “You’re both going to be exhausted. There are plenty of reasons why that part of your marriage might get put on the back burner for a little while that have nothing to do with anything other than needing sleep whenever you can get it. And that stress is going to put pressure on your marriage in other ways. I’d focus on that.”

I feel my chest tighten with anxiety. I’d thought in passing about what the strain of a new baby might do to my and Levin’s already frail connection, but I hadn’t let myself dwell on it. Now it feels like a sudden and crushing anxiety.

“You’ll get through it,” Isabella tells me gently. “I know you will. Your marriage isn’t something that can be undone, not without causing huge problems. So there’s that, at least. You don’t have to worry about it splitting you up.”

“We don’t have to be divorced to be split up,” I mumble, and Isabella narrows her eyes at me.

“Is that something you’ve talked about?”

“Not exactly. I—” I bite my lower lip. “We had an argument, after he went out on a job without telling me. He offered to give me space after Diego is taken care of and the baby comes if I needed it. To split time between New York and Boston, live in a different apartment, whatever I needed.”

“And what do you feel like you need?” Isabella asks gently, and the words come out before I can stop them.

“I need my husband,” I whisper, and I see her face soften.

“Maybe when the baby comes, it will change things. Make him see that the worst didn’t happen—that your baby is here and you’re both safe.”

“That’s what I’m hoping for.”

Isabella changes the conversation after that, asking about the nursery, what we’ve done to it so far, our plans to decorate—anything that doesn’t circle back to my relationship with Levin. I know she’s trying to distract me, but the truth is thateverythingmakes me think about him, and how much I miss him, even though I’m beginning to feel very sure that he doesn’t miss me the same way in return.

Maybe he’s even glad for a couple of days away, without the strain of trying to make me happy. Maybe that’s why it was so easy for him to leave without saying goodbye.

“I need to grab one more thing,” Isabella says as we leave. “Why don’t the two of you bring the car around?” She nods at the security. “We’ll be here.”

“I’m not sure I can do that, Mrs. Flanagan—”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Isabella lets out a frustrated breath. “We’re in the middle of a busy downtown. I just need to run in and grab some things.” She nods towards the store to our right. “We’ll be in there. Just get the car, so we can get Elena home before she gets too tired. I’m sure Levin and Niall wouldn’t want her overdoing it.”

She narrows her eyes at them, and they both hesitate, but finally turn to go and get the car. “It’s not even that far away,” Isabella mumbles, clearly irritated. “I’m so tired of being followed all of the time. I thought we left that behind in Mexico.”

“I know.” I give her a small smile. “It won’t be too long, I’m sure. Liam and Connor will figure out what to do about Diego, and—”

The security has barely rounded the corner as I speak, just out of sight, and a heavy hand clamps around my arm, yanking me back. I open my mouth to scream, wrenching towards Isabella, and another hand presses over my mouth, stifling it. I see someone else manhandling Isabella, dragging us both backward, and I wait for someone to help, someone to scream, anything.

I twist in the thick arms of the man holding me, trying to get free, desperate to get free. I don’t know what’s happening, but all I can think is that Diego has caught up with us. That one moment of carelessness is going to cost Isabella and me our freedom, and Levin—

“Stop struggling, bitch,” the man hisses in my ear, his arm pressing against my throat, and I hear Isabella’s screech, see her trying to claw at the man holding her as she’s shoved into the van, two men following her as the two holding me heave me towards the open door.

It feels like a bad dream. I feel a cloth against my face, and I struggle, fear spreading through me like ice in my veins at the thought of being helpless, of being suffocated, of the possibility that they’re drugging me, and what that could do to my baby.

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