Midnight Sanctuary (Bugrov Bratva #2)(38)

“Listen, Elle, things are complicated. He’s just worried about my safety.”

“Isn’t that the same sorry excuse he gave you before locking you up in his basement?”

Very badly.

“I told you the stakes the last time we spoke. We’re talking about the mafia, Elle. Bad guys are involved and Uri’s just worried about exposing me. That’s the only reason he’s sitting out there now. He’s just trying to protect me.”

“Honey, I don’t know if that’s actually true. Or…”

“Or…?”

“Or if you’re just getting love-drunk on the Kool-Aid he’s pouring down your throat.”

My heart is beating hard against my chest. I really don’t want her to hate Uri. Especially considering that “love-drunk” might not be so far from the truth.

“Elle,” I say, grabbing her hand, “I know this is a lot to take in. And I get that you’re worried for me. I am, too, to be honest. But not because of Uri.”

“He’s a beautiful man, Alyssa. In fact, he might be the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. But that doesn’t excuse his behavior.” She leans forward and dips her chin to give me her serious look. “He’s lurking out there waiting for you. He told you to sit by the window. He had you under lockdown for months. He limited your contact with your friends and family. He doesn’t sound protective so much as way too possessive.”

“I know what it looks like,” I protest weakly, “but that’s not how it actually is.”

“No? In what ways?”

“It’s been a rough few weeks and he’s worried about us.”

“‘Us’? Who’s ‘us’?”

I take a deep breath and rip the Band-Aid off. “I’m pregnant, Elle,” I say with a shaky smile. “With twins.”

She gawks at me soundlessly for a few moments. Her mouth opens and closes a couple of times before she manages to get anything out. Ziva used to call it “going goldfish.”

“You’re not joking,” she breathes at last.

I smile weakly. “I wouldn’t joke about something like that. I’m entering my second trimester.”

“With twins?”

I nod. “Yeah. Twins. Identical twins.”

“I… I actually can’t believe it.”

“Trust me—I have trouble with it some days, too.”

Elle glances towards the window. “So… um, your sexy kidnapper out there… He’s worried that this bad dude mafia guy is going to come after you and the babies?”

I ignore the “sexy kidnapper” part, accurate though it may be. “That’s part of it. But last week, I had some pretty extreme bleeding and I thought I was gonna lose the babies. I’m okay now, but Uri… He’s been at my side pretty much nonstop since the hospital. He makes sure I eat well and drink well and get enough sleep.”

“But you’re fine? And the babies?”

“Both good. Both healthy.”

Elle nods. “And… forgive me for asking, but you’re happy about being pregnant? I’m assuming it wasn’t planned?”

“Not even a little bit,” I admit. “But it was never really a choice. I knew from the moment I had an inkling about their existence that I was going to go through with this.”

“And he’s happy, too?”

“I think so, yeah.”

Elle lets out a low whistle and leans back in her seat. “I have to say—that’s a buttload of information.”

I give her a self-conscious smile. “And you guys always thought I was the boring one in our little triangle.” I play with my Z link as I say it.

Elle smiles sadly. “Twins. Like you and Z. How do you feel about that?”

“Actually, it made me feel like it was meant to be. That she’s with me somehow, looking down at me from time to time. I think she’d have been happy for me.”

“Just to clarify, I’m happy for you, too. It’s just… your meet-cute isn’t exactly traditional.”

“No, but who wants traditional, am I right?”

Elle purses her lips. “I mean, if ‘traditional’ means I avoid being held captive for several months, I’ll take it over nontraditional any day.”

“He was doing that to protect me, Elle. I trust Uri and I really want you to give him a chance. For my sake, if nothing else.”

Elle sighs and glances out the window. Uri is on the phone with someone and his face is turned away from us. “Of course I’ll give him a chance. He’s the father of your children.”

“Thank you.” I reach out and take her hand. “I want to apologize for missing your bachelorette party and your wedding. I want you to know it killed me.”

“Your life is more important than a party. I get that.”

“Will you forgive me?”

She waves a dismissive. “You’re already forgiven.”

I release a sigh of relief. “Thank God. I’m gonna make it up to you.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” she says with a little smirk.

“How was it by the way? It’s your turn to tell me everything.”