Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Do the Esguerras dislike her for some reason? Come to think of it, when we visited Cyprus, Peter did say something along the lines of Esguerra having “it in for her.”
I’ll have to ask Peter what happened there.
There’s some tension between Peter and Lucas, too, but it’s not nearly as pronounced. Maybe Kent’s assistance in our rescue negates his culpability in my escape in Peter’s eyes, and the two men now consider themselves even.
We’re already halfway through the dessert—a delicious homemade tiramisu—when the conversation turns to the topic that brought us all here.
Henderson.
“It’s looking like tonight is going to be doable,” Esguerra says to Peter. “I’ll know for sure in about an hour—your North Carolina guy is being squirrely.”
My husband frowns. “Let’s offer him more money.”
“I did,” Kent says. “And I also told him that if he doesn’t cooperate, he’ll be added to our list. So I’m guessing he’ll come through.”
“What’s happening tonight?” I ask, looking around the table at the men. “Did you already locate Henderson?”
Esguerra and Kent look at Peter, who gives a minute shake of his head—denying them permission to fill me in. My husband then focuses on me. “It’s nothing for you to worry about, ptichka,” he says softly, reaching across the table to cover my hand. “We haven’t found him yet, but we will—and tonight is just a step in that direction.”
My teeth clench together, and I yank my hand away.
Here it is again, the assumption that I can’t handle anything remotely upsetting.
Before I can say anything, I hear a baby’s shrieking cry. It sounds like it’s approaching the room. A moment later, a frazzled Rosa walks in, with a screaming Lizzie in her arms.
“So sorry to interrupt, but she won’t stop crying,” she says. “I’ve fed and changed her, so I don’t know what her problem is.”
To my surprise, Esguerra gets up instead of Nora. “I’ve got it,” he says calmly, and walking over to Rosa, he takes the baby from her, handling the child with exquisite gentleness and startling expertise.
His features soften as he gazes down at the small, scrunched-up face, and to my shock, the baby quiets down as he rocks her gently, murmuring something nonsensical in his deep voice. He doesn’t seem to care that we’re observing him in this tender moment; he’s entirely caught up with the tiny creature in his arms.
“See what I mean? Totally daddy’s girl,” Nora whispers in my ear, and I close my mouth, realizing I’m gaping at her husband like he’s just grown a tail.
I did not expect to see the powerful arms dealer so hands-on with the baby.
“He’s the only one who can handle her when she gets like this,” Nora continues softly, and when I glance back at her, I see her watching her husband and child with naked adoration.
She’s clearly in love with him.
With a man who kidnapped her when she was barely out of high school.
I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, given my own relationship with Peter, but it’s still a bit jarring, observing them like this. A part of me wants to tell her to see a shrink for her Stockholm syndrome, while another, bigger part is cheering for their unorthodox love story.
If they can make it work long-term, maybe Peter and I can also.
Maybe a few years from now, we’ll all be sitting at a dinner table like this again, only it’ll be my baby in Peter’s arms.
Our youngest, obviously. Our oldest will be running around on his or her own by then.
I’m so caught up in this daydream that I almost miss my moment with Yulia. She’s already excused herself and is stepping out of the dining room when I realize that she’s finally heading to the restroom.
“Excuse me, I’ll be right back,” I tell Nora and Peter, and without waiting for a reply, I get up and hurry after Yulia.
69
Sara
I catch up with Yulia in the hallway by the bathroom.
“Wait, please,” I tell her as she’s about to walk in. Realizing what I’m saying, I quickly amend, “I mean, don’t wait if you have to go. I’ll be out here, waiting until you’re done.”
She steps away from the bathroom door. “No, please, go ahead. I can go elsewhere. There are plenty of restrooms on this floor.”
“What? Oh, no, I’m fine.” I laugh, realizing she thinks I urgently need the bathroom. “I just wanted to catch you alone for a minute, to apologize about the whole thing in Cyprus.”
Her beautiful face tightens. “There’s no need. It’s all in the past.”
“No, it’s not. I caused a rift between Peter and your husband. I’m truly sorry about that—and about giving you the wrong impression about my relationship with Peter. I needed your help to escape, but I should’ve been more truthful. Peter did kill my first husband, and he waterboarded me, like I told you—but that was early on, before things got complicated with us, too. I mean, I was his captive in your house—that’s why I was trying to escape—but I was also falling for him by then and—”