Page 128 of Scarlet Secrets
Oh. Fuck.
I think they might be after Erin.
Taking Sasha was a diversion.
Chapter Thirty-Two
ERIN
The door opensand an orderly comes in, handing Ilya a new burner phone. I don’t know where he got it, but then again, Demyan and his people have so much money and power they can do anything.
Apart from stopping my son from being kidnapped.
My heart rate rises again and the nausea crashes over me.
“Calm down, Erin,” Ilya says, turning the phone on and texting someone. “While my phone charges, Demyan can now reach us on this.” He waits a minute. Shows me the screen. “No calls. That’s good.”
I grind my teeth and pretend to watch TV. I don’t want it on. I don’t want to be here. What I need is to be out there, finding my son.
But he’s not going to let me just leave. Ilya’s an extension of Demyan; he’s my prison guard in friendly clothing and so I just stare at the screen, trying to think of how to get the hell out of here.
Ilya pushes the grapes toward me. “Eat something.”
“I don’t fucking want to eat.”
“The doctor said a little something would be good. That’s why I had them bring these. If you don’t like grapes, there’s apples. Bananas. Muffins. Chips. I’ll get you in a four-course meal even if I have to send someone to drag the chef of the restaurant of your choice here at this hour to cook for you.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Eat.”
I shoot him an angry look but pluck a grape, biting down into the dusty purple skin for the sweet burst I don’t want.
Satisfied, he nods, checks the phones, and flips through a magazine.
Normally, the sight of the man reading a gossip magazine would make me smile but my world’s empty of anything but getting my son back.
But I fucking lie here. I’m no longer hooked up to anything apart from the drip for fluids, which gives me an idea.
I don’t glance at him as I buzz for the nurse. Ilya’s head snaps up. “Are you in pain?”
“I need the bathroom.”
The nurse hustles in and I repeat the words to him. “I’ll get you a bedpan.”
“No.” Even if I had to go, there’s no way I’m peeing in front of Ilya and he’s not about to leave. “No. I want the bathroom.”
The nurse goes to the en suite attached, but I shake my head. “I want to pee in private.”
“Erin.”
“Ilya,” I snap back. “I need some dignity. I’m attached. I’m in a hospital gown. Where am I going?”
“Fine. I’ll walk you there.”
Knowing there’s no way out of it, I nod. And taking the drip, I get out of bed, but I insist on pulling on some clothes first. Dignity is my excuse and I’m clinging to it.
Soon it’s me, Ilya, and the damn drip heading a few meters down the hall. I look around and see it. The fire alarm. As I walk, I veer as if I don’t quite have the strength to walk in a straight line and he mutters something about eating.
