Page 61 of Twisted Prince
Karinna seems more than happy to babble about her day plans. But my thoughts turn back to Gleb and the meeting I agreed to. And I’m still lost for a decision.
I don’t know what I would do with Gabby if I did go see him. Could I bring her? He should know the truth about her if I’m seriously contemplating going back to New York with him. But am I?
All I want is to protect Gabby from the life I suffered. And New York has so many bad memories, so many dangers. I know Boston’s not that much better. But at least here, I know what I’m doing. I’ve found something that works. And I’m doing just fine on my own.
If I went back to New York, we’d be starting all over. I wouldn’t have a steady income. I wouldn’t have Kieri to rely upon when I need to go to work. So many unanswered questions, and yet, I’m terrified to ask them—to face that reality and the thought of being so close to Gleb again.
It all rests so heavily on my faith in him. And though I want to trust Gleb, I just don’t know that I can. He’s saved my life numerous times and rescued me from the fate of a sex slave on two separate occasions. Shouldn’t that prove he’s trustworthy? Doesn’t that show his good intentions?
And yet, when it comes down to it, he seems just as capable of being domineering and violent as the rest of the men whose hands I’ve ended up in, the men I put my faith in. He’s never turned that violence on me, I reason. But what’s to stop him from doing so when he’s tired of me? There’s always a period of relief—happiness even—before reality sinks in.
Kieri sets a stack of pancakes before me, drawing me out of my reverie. “I plan on painting my nails after breakfast if you girls want to join me,” she suggests with an affectionate smile.
“Can we, Mama?” Gabby asks, her eyes widening with excitement, though she has no clue what that means.
In an instant, I know I need to make up my mind. Do I take the chance and go see Gleb? Or do I stay here, where it’s safe?
Looking up at the matronly middle-aged woman who takes such good care of my daughter—and me—I’m filled with a deep sense of gratitude. She’s made my life manageable these past few years. And only in the last few days—when Gleb came bursting back into my life—has everything I thought I wanted been turned on its head.
On the one hand, I have Gleb insisting I go back to New York with him. And though the thought of letting him drive away destroys me, I can’t trust that the future he’s painted for me will ever become a reality.
On the other hand, I don’t like that I’ve caught the attention of my boss’s cousin. It’s turned my safe space into a hostile environment in the blink of an eye. It has raised ghosts from my past that I had thought were long buried.
It feels like the walls are closing in, my world being dictated by men’s desires once again. And the familiar sense of claustrophobia makes my heart pound.
“Of course, we can paint nails!” I say, forcing a cheery note into my tone as I smile at Gabby. “We’ll have a girls’ day. That sounds so fun.”
Gabby beams up at me, her cheeks full of pancakes, and I know I made the right decision. As painful as it is, I need to skip the meeting with Gleb. Because I’m not sure I can keep telling him no. Creeps like Vinny, I can handle, and I would rather fend off his sleazy advances than face Gleb again.
I know how to be strong when it comes to most men.
But not Gleb.
He’s my weakness.
My kryptonite.
And if I let down my guard, even for an instant, I’ll lose my power to resist.
26
GLEB
I growl in frustration as the clock on my phone shifts to noon. I knew hours ago that she wasn’t coming, but because we didn’t set a time, I held out hope long past when my common sense and intuition told me Mel blew me off—again.
Let her go, man. If she didn’t come, it means she doesn’t want saving. Sascha’s text glares up at me, rubbing salt in the wound.
I’ve put my brother off twice this morning, assuring him that we would hit the road as soon as I spoke to Mel. Maybe I should have listened to him from the start.
But then why can’t I get this feeling to go away? It’s a sense of foreboding, a dark cloud looming on the horizon that tells me if I leave now, without her, Mel will suffer for it.
My fist clenches as I scowl across the street at the darkened entrance to Pearl’s. I’ve learned my lesson about ignoring my gut instinct. And with Mel, I won’t take any chances. I’m seeing this through—even if she hates me for it.
A flash of dark hair catches my eye.
I turn my head just in time to catch the prominent sunglasses covering the eyes and a good portion of the face that belongs to the bartender at Pearl’s. She looks like she’s in desperate need of caffeine after a late night of drinking once the burlesque lounge closed.
Perfect.
