“Which can cause long-term infertility issues,” India jumps in, her tone smug. “So not only are Roxanne’s chances of becoming pregnant again extremely low,if she was even pregnant to begin with, she couldn’t have conceived without help.”
I return her glare before requesting for Dr. Klein to check the pockets he mentioned earlier, dying to hit that smug bitch where it hurts.
Dr. Klein once again clears his throat before going to work. He taps and clicks on his sonogram machine numerous times before he pushes his glasses up his nose and says matter-of-factly, “I can’t see any indication Roxanne was ever pregnant.”
“What?” I blurt out at the same time a collection of hisses roll across the room. “Check again. You must not be seeing things right. Maestro said I was six to eight weeks along.” I lift my shirt to my bra before tugging my pants down so they’re low on my hips. “You’re not far enough down. He scanned right above my pubic bone.”
India tells me to stop being ridiculous, Smith and Rocco back up my request for Dr. Klein to check again, and Dimitri stares at my stomach for three painfully long seconds before he pivots on his heels and races out of the room, knocking over the freestanding sonogram machine on his way out.
Both my head and my heart scream for me to go after him, but for the life of me, I can’t get my legs to move. I’ve seen firsthand what he does to people who betray him, and considering it feels as if my life is just getting started, I don’t want it ended just yet.
28
Dimitri
Aroar rips from my throat when I throw my fist into the concrete pillar holding up the top story of India’s residence. It sends pain shooting up my arm and down my spine, but I don’t hold back. I punch and punch and punch until my fists are bloody, my heart is colliding with my ribs just as dangerously, and my wish to kill is only ramping up.
A million phrases played through my head this morning. Little snippets of all the conversations I’ve had the past couple of days have been on a nonstop loop. India’s sworn testimony that Roxanne is playing me for a fool. Smith presenting evidence on sedatives causing false positive pregnancy tests, and just now, Roxanne’s heartbreaking confession on how she was treated the first night under Rimi’s care. They rolled through my head on repeat, only stopping when I hinged every belief I’ve ever had on a simple sonogram.
It should have cleared everything up.
Science has a way of making liars truthful and the truthful dead.
That didn’t happen today. Roxanne’s ultrasound raised more doubt than it gave answers. Not because I believe what Dr. Klein said but because not only has Roxanne given me no reason to doubt her, she has evidence to back up her claims. Bruises I somehow missed, nicks I brushed off as grazes because I was too busy basking in the glory of my win to make sure she had made it out of the carnage without a scratch, and the faintest bruise on her hip that looks like the imprint of a man’s boot.
Roxanne has said time and time again that the person responsible for Fien’s captivity was a woman. Although it’s clear Rimi was the ringleader behind the organization who staged my daughter’s captivity, I agree with Roxanne.
Furthermore, if Roxanne’s abduction was purely about money, they wouldn’t have harmed our child. Fien’s captivity netted the Castro entity millions of dollars each year, so imagine how much I would have paid to guarantee the safety of two of my children, not to mention the woman I love.
The fact they forced Roxanne through every woman’s worst nightmare exposes my fatal flaw.
I gloated a victory I’ve yet to win.
Basked in an ambiance that isn’t mine to savor.
I let Roxanne down in a way I never thought possible, and I’ve threatened to kill her more than once.
I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, I’m a fucking asshole.
That stops today.
I can’t change what happened to Roxanne. I can’t undo the hurt she endured, but I can ensure it won’t happen again. I’ve just got to play the game as I’ve been taught, show my enemies I’m not to be messed with, and I must do it without Roxanne by my side because, as far as my enemies are concerned, the only way you can teach a bird how to fly is by pushing her out of the nest.
29
Roxanne
“It isn’t as it seems. I swear to God, I have no clue what happened back there.”
“It’s okay,” Rocco assures me, his pace lowering so he can rub my arm reassuringly. “I don’t give a fuck what the Doc said. We know the truth.”
I want to believe his ‘we’ is referring to him and Dimitri, but regretfully, the knot in my gut won’t allow me to portray a brainless bimbo. He was referencing Smith, who has done everything in his power to discredit Dr. Klein’s integrity for the past two hours. He combed through decades of records, sought any insurance claims that may have been settled out of court, and he even reached out to his ex-wife. All avenues were extinguished without the slightest spark being ignited. Unlike Dr. Bates, Dr. Klein’s records are as clean as a whistle.
Smith said he would continue scouring for evidence. Fien is back, so he has nothing else to fill his time, but I told him not to bother. There’s only one person I want to believe me, and he’s been ignoring Rocco’s calls as often as he would mine if I knew his cell phone number.
“Do you know how long we’re planning to camp out here for?” I ask Rocco just as we reach my room.
He scrubs at the fine hairs on his chin. “First plan was for three or four days. That’s about how quickly the media would move on to another story. When the public interest shifts, so do the Feds.”
