Chapter 6

Blood ran down the inside of Vivienne's thigh and pooled on the marble floor.

Jonathan stared for one beat. Then he was moving. Shrugging off his jacket, wrapping it around Vivienne, lifting her into his arms.

"I'm taking you to the hospital."

He shoved past Selene without looking at her and ran. The look on his face when he held Vivienne, that careful, terrified tenderness, went through Selene like a knife.

She thought about the baby she'd lost. The one who'd never made it into this world. Maybe her baby had known he wouldn't be loved. Maybe that's why he'd left.

Selene was still standing on the front steps when the police pulled up.

"We got a call about assault. You're coming with us."

Cold metal closed around her wrists. Something in her stopped working.

The first night in lockup, with no evidence and no one to vouch for her, they kept her in a windowless holding cell. They didn't bring her water. The second day, they interrogated her for twenty hours straight. It wasn't until day three that Jonathan showed up.

"They spent two days saving Vivienne's baby. You went too far this time, Selene."

He didn't ask if she'd eaten. He didn't ask if she was okay.

Jonathan looked stern, his tone full of reproach.

"She's a kind person. She's agreed to testify it was an accident. You shouldn't face criminal charges."

Selene's mouth twitched. She didn't know whether to feel relieved or sick.

"But..."

His tone shifted. Her stomach clenched.

"But I'm not taking you home today. You made a mistake. Mistakes have consequences. You'll serve out a full thirty days here. I'll come pick you up when your time is up."

"You need to learn, Selene. The world isn't going to let you behave like this. You're stubborn. Maybe this will teach you something. I'll tell the guards to look after you. Take this time to think."

He walked out without looking back.

Selene opened her mouth to call after him. Nothing came out. Her throat was full of cotton.

For another woman, Jonathan had personally put her in a holding cell.

Is this what you meant when you swore to love me and protect me for the rest of your life, Jonathan?

Selene sank into utter despair.

During the month she spent in the holding cell, no matter how desperately she begged, Jonathan never came to see her once.

To stay alive she ate food that was already going bad. She slept on a concrete floor. She let the other women in lockup push her around. When they hit her, and they hit her plenty, she stayed quiet. She knew if she fought back she'd get another sentence on top of this one. She had to get out.

Until one day someone hit her hard enough to split her forehead open. Blood ran down her face. A guard took her to the hospital.

In the corridor, Selene saw a familiar figure walking into a private suite. Two nurses at the station were whispering to each other.

"That's him. Comes here every day. Spoon-feeds her. Massages her legs. Treats her like she's the queen of England. Does he even know that baby isn't his?"

"Is it really true what the head nurse said? He's got some genetic infertility thing?"

"Yep. That girl's been stuffing herself with junk and pulling stunts the whole pregnancy. Trying to lose it, probably. But this one's a fighter. Wants her for a mother bad. Just wait. The second that baby's born, the whole thing falls apart."

Selene listened quietly. Nothing in her stirred.

Then a call button went off inside the VIP suite. The two nurses looked at each other.

"That thing rings eight hundred times a day."

"Let's go."

Before they could move, Jonathan came sprinting toward the station.

"Could you move a little faster? My wife is choking. If something happens to her you'll answer for it—"

He stopped mid-sentence.

He'd seen Selene at the end of the hall, getting her forehead bandaged. Their eyes met.