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I look at the man I loved and respected, all those feelings now gone, like they never even existed. It’s strange. And overwhelming. My heart’s breaking, but it’s his life or mine. Not to mention my baby’s.
Taking a deep breath, I’m about to say something no daughter ever should. “Well, I’d like an apology. And then you can take him and do with him whatever you did with Karol.”
I almost choke on those last words. They are razors on my tongue, and as soon as I utter them, I am filled with shame.
But I hang onto my resolve. I have to.
At this, my father begins to fight his restraints. But he knows he’s fucked. His efforts are fruitless.
“C’mon, Madden,” Ilya says. “You heard your daughter. Wouldn’t you like her to remember you as saying something nice with your last words?”
My father drops his head, and his sudden compliance is... disconcerting. He’s accepted his fate. He’s lost the battle. Hell, he’s lost the whole war.
“Please. Please don’t hurt me,” he begs, his voice wavering.
Wow. Not such a big guy any more. Guess anyone can be humbled when their life is on the line.
Undeterred, Fedor rolls his eyes and keeps directing him toward the door. I don’t know what they’re going to do with him. I don’t want to know.
“It’s a little late to be asking for a pardon, don’t you think, Madden? You’ve had ample opportunities to set things right. Seems being a decent human is just not in your DNA, buddy,” Ilya adds.
But my father turns to me, as if an appeal might possibly do him any good at this point.Afterhe called me a whore, I might add.
“Abby. Tell them. Tell them to let me go. Think of your baby. How can you become a mother when you know you had your father killed? Please, Abby, please,” he cries.
I am disgusted with him, but also a little disgusted with myself, that I can be so callous. But is it callous? My life is not the only one at stake here. My baby’s is too. And everyone knows a momma bear will do anything to protect her child.
It’s fucked up, to want to off your father. I mean, who does that? But I chooseme. I choosemy life. I choosemy child’s life. It’s my father who forced me to make these choices, and while I don’t want to make them, I have. Without regrets. Sorrow, yes. But no regrets.
“Goodbye, Dad.”
* * *
20
BOGDAN
I check on Abby,who has slept the entire return flight to Spain. A heavy curtain walls off the small bed where she conked out as soon as the plane left the ground. She’s been through a ton of shit in the last few days, and it’s clear the toll everything has taken on her.
Not to mention that she’s with child. And while I don’t know shit about these things, I remember hearing once that pregnant women need a lot of sleep, at least in the beginning.
She’spregnant.I keep repeating that in my head to help it sink in. I’m going to be adad. As are Ilya and Fedor. An honor we will all share equally.
Mind. Blown.
“Abby,” I say softly. “Malishka, time to wake up.”
I stroke a thumb over her soft cheek and her eyes slowly open. I’m dying to kiss her—and more—but there will be time for that later.
“Wow. I fell asleep,” she says groggily. “For how long? An hour or two?”
I hand her a bottle of water, which she chugs until it’s empty. “Mmmm. So thirsty.” She wipes a dribble off her chin with the back of her hand and looks around sleepily.
Fuck, she’s gorgeous, all sleepy and bed-headed.
“Darling, you slept nearly eight hours.”
She shakes her head in disbelief. “Are you kidding? I slept that long? We must be getting close to home then. I mean, Spain.”
