Page 4 of Born into Blood

“What?” I try to shake my head no, but he’s fisting my hair too tightly for me to move.

He leans closer, growling the words out slowly when he says, “Get rid of it, or I will beat it out of you. Do you understand me, pet?”

When he sees how confused I still am, he gives me my first smile, but instead of the loving one I’ve always imagined, it’s cold and hard and sends a shiver down my spine.

“Did you honestly think we’d just become a family, that I’d marry you and we’d raise the baby together?”

He leans in even closer so our faces are almost touching.

“Did you honestly think I cared for you?” He lets out another harsh laugh. “God, that’s pathetic even for you. I come here, pet, when I want a quick fuck. I come here because you look like her, but you’re not her, and you never will be.”

He fists my hair tighter, making me wince before he lets go and stands up and I fall to the floor. Pulling out his wallet, he drops several hundreds onto my head. I let them fall around me, too distraught to move or say anything.

“That should be enough to cover the abortion and the days of missed work. If I come back and find out you’re still pregnant, you won’t like what I do to get rid of it.”

When I don’t say anything, he leans down to hook a finger under my chin, tilting my face back up to his.

“Tell me you understand. Tell me you’re going to obey me like the good little pet you are.”

I give a shaky nod, but my brain refuses to accept what’s happening here.

“Say it,” he growls, digging his fingers into the bruise that’s already forming on my cheek.

“I understand,” I whisper while fighting back tears.

He drops his hand and stands back up to his full height, fixing his suit and getting himself back under control.

“I’ll be back to see you next week, and I want to see paperwork from the clinic, pet.”

He doesn’t give me a chance to respond, just walks away without a backward glance, leaving me sitting on the floor, surrounded in hundred-dollar bills, and feeling more alone than I’ve ever been. With more than enough money to cover my shift, I tell my boss I’m feeling sick and make my escape from the club that somehow feels even dirtier than usual. I want a shower. I want to scrub this night off me and the way it’s making me feel.

Standing in the shower later, I rest my hands on my belly, unable to resist thinking of a dark-haired, blue-eyed little girl. She’ll be the perfect mix of us, and once he sees his daughter, I know he’ll realize what a mistake he’s made. He’s probably already regretting everything he said and did. This is all just a big misunderstanding, and the next time I see him, I know it’ll be different. I smile at the thought of him apologizing and wrapping me in a big hug. This baby makes us a family, and I’m not going to just throw that away.

I stay home for the next three days, and I spend it watching Doctor Zhivago, talking to our baby, who I just know is a little girl, and dreaming about our future. When I finally drag myself into work, the last thing I’m expecting is for Lou to grab my arm and pull me into his shitty little office. He parks his scrawny ass behind his cluttered desk and reaches for the pack of cigarettes that’s never too far from reach. We’re technically a non-smoking club, but there are a lot of laws that get broken in this place, and a cigarette is the least of them.

“Jesus, Chloe,” he groans before taking a long drag. Small, dark eyes meet mine as he shakes his head in disappointment. “What the hell have you gotten yourself mixed up in?”

“What do you mean?” I take the seat opposite his desk, trying not to breathe in the secondhand smoke that I know isn’t good for my baby.

“That guy that’s been coming in to see you.” He notices my shocked look and lets out a harsh laugh. “Yeah, I know you’ve been giving him private dances and pocketing all the money, but that’s not why I’m pissed. Do you know who he is?”

“It’s Osip,” I say, and then I square my shoulders and lift my chin. “My boyfriend.”

This time his laugh is a cruel one. “Like Ralph was your boyfriend?”

“It’s not like that.” I rest my hand on my stomach. “We’re going to be a family. He’s going to get me out of here.”

The look of pity he gives me is worse than the harsh laugh. “Sweetheart, he’s not going to be doing anything with you.”

“Yes, he is,” I argue, fisting my hands as anxiety squeezes my chest and makes me feel like I can’t breathe.

“No, he isn’t. He’s dead, Chloe. Rumor has it the Melnikov brothers took him and his brother out. That guy, your boyfriend, was Osip Lebedev, and I don’t want this kind of shit landing on my doorstep.”

“Killed?” I whisper, feeling like someone’s just come up and punched me square in the chest. I shake my head, refusing to believe his words, because it can’t be true. Osip can’t be dead. We’re going to be a family. He’s going to be a daddy. This has to be a huge mistake.

Lou sees the doubt on my face. “Everyone’s talking about it. Apparently the Lebedevs hurt someone very important to the Melnikov family, some woman. I don’t know.”

“Osip would never do that,” I quickly say, defending the man who I know at his core is a good man.

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