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“Her EpiPen is in there.”
I see no reason why the two of them will be alone. Still, my daughter’s life is more important than my pride.
“If you need to inject her, pinch her thigh muscle, stick the needle in, and plunge the measured dose all the way in. They are metered shots. It’s always set to go so you don’t have to measure.”
“Got it. How many times have you injected her?” Her question catches me off guard.
“I haven’t had to. Ever. I’m extremely careful. So is she.”
“That’s good.” Ana nods.
It’s amazing how her color has improved in a short amount of time. How different she looks now that she’s showered, and wearing fresh, clean, decent clothes.
No, I don’t see Ginny in them at all.
Ana splashes garlic-infused olive oil into the pan, and the sizzling, spicy aroma wakes me up. She dumps everything into that heated pan and in a few minutes, it’s on a plate set before me.
My mouth waters at the best chicken and rice dish I ever had in my life.
When I get up to get another drink, I bump into her. She stood at nearly the exact same time to grab some water.
“Sorry.” But I find it hard to move.
I don’t understand this attraction I feel toward her. I must be in alpha overload.
That denied, primal side of me is clawing its way out, begging to prey on this beautiful woman whose belly is swollen with my family’s bloodline.
Ana doesn’t move so quickly, and I’m not sure if she’s reacting to me, or if she’s playing me.
Swallowing, I ask, “Why were you running from your father?”
She studies me before speaking, like she’s assessing if she trusts me. “He wanted to marry me off to the Boston pakhan.”
I have no idea who that is. But I understand how that world works, strategic marriages and all.
“And did you think you’d live on the run forever?”
“I was so startled, maybe I wasn’t thinking.” She sits back down and picks at the broccoli, her eyes rolling in the back of her head. “I probably just should have told him no. I mean, what could he have done? Dragged me to the altar?”
“My brother managed to isolate you. He was on drugs and alone.” I exhale. “Sure, your father, the pakhan with his brotherhood, could have forced you down the aisle.”
CHAPTER TEN
Ana
Yesterday, I woke up behind bars and had no idea what day or month it was.
Last night, I slept soundly for the first time in months. And in a bed that can pass for heaven.
The sheets are so damn soft and perfumed with lavender and orange.
This entire guest bedroom smells like citrus. Or maybe my senses are so raw and damaged from filth and bleach that anything pleasant shocks my system.
The clock on the nightstand reads six a.m., but I’m wide awake.
The baby is moving and woke me up a while ago.
I’ve peed and am dying for a cup of tea, but I don’t feel right walking around this house on my own. I came up here last night out of pure desperation.
