Page 13 of Coerced Kiss

It’s unimaginable that I register his handsome features in such a moment. It’s inappropriate that I notice the shocking contrast between the glacier blue of his eyes and the onyx blackof his hair. I have no idea why the thin gold hoop he wears in one ear draws my attention or why I internalize everything about him. Maybe it’s survival instinct that compels me to take stock of the threat facing me.

Standing all but naked in front of me, I notice other things too, things like the lean, hard body decked in muscles and the big hands that wield a knife so effortlessly. He can easily crush my windpipe by simply wrapping his fingers around my neck and squeezing them into a fist. My mathematical brain automatically catalogues the information as it weighs up my options, and the sad conclusion is that I’m trapped. Not all the self-defense training I dabbled in during high school can get me out of this mess.

When I don’t make a move, he says, “If you’re not ready in five minutes, I’ll dress you myself. You need to rest. The sooner we get this done, the sooner you can sleep. Sadly, you have to go to work in a few short hours. It’ll look strange if you don’t. You can go to bed early tomorrow.”

I can only stare at him as he leaves the room and closes the door behind him.

He’s serious about this. For what reasons, I can’t fathom. Earlier, he looked at my stomach as if pregnancy was a horrible disease, and now he wants to make sure my baby is unharmed. What’s for sure is that he’s not going to give me a choice. As scary and horrific as this night is turning out, I just want it to be over. I’ll let him go through with this psycho behavior so that he can get the hell out of here.

Keeping my eyes trained on the door, I pull on the clothes in a hurry. When I step out a minute later, he’s dressed in his suit, pacing the floor with his phone pressed against his ear.

He gives me a quick once-over as he says, “That’ll be all,” before ending the call.

“Warm enough?” he asks, eyeing my sweater.

I clear my throat. “Yes.”

He walks over and stops so close to me the tips of our shoes touch. “Before we go, there’s one thing you need to understand. I don’t make idle threats. Stick to your end of the bargain and keep that pretty mouth of yours shut, and no one needs to get hurt.”

My gut churns at the reminder of who he is and what he’s capable of. He doesn’t wait for my agreement. It’s a given. As he made so abundantly clear, I don’t have a choice.

With that threat out of the way, he fetches a glass of water from the kitchen and hands it to me in silent instruction. I don’t argue. I’m constantly thirsty these days. When the glass is empty, he leaves it in the sink and hooks my bag over my shoulder.

“My phone,” I say.

“What about it?”

“I dropped it in the street.”

“I retrieved it.”

Of course he did. “Is it broken?”

“Yes.”

“I need it. I must have it repaired.”

“Later,” he says.

“Why can’t you just give it back to me?”

He places a hand between my shoulder blades and pushes me to the door. “I said later.”

I grit my teeth. “I didn’t film what you did if that’s what worries you.”

“You’ll get it back when I’ve checked it.”

Ignoring the curse I utter under my breath, he escorts me downstairs and helps me into a sleek black car before giving the driver instructions.

In forty minutes, we pull up in front of a high-tech glass building in the middle of Manhattan. The ob-gyn who receivesus is a middle-aged woman with blond hair knotted in one of those buns that appears stylishly messy. Despite the hour, she wears smart lilac pants under her doctor’s coat with heels in the same color. Her make-up is light but glittery. Maybe she was at an event or a party when Saverio asked her to come in.

She doesn’t seem put out to have been summoned in the early morning hours. Greeting me with a friendly smile, she says, “I’m Dr. Wade.” She indicates a door on the left. “The changing room is through here. You’ll find a disposable robe in a sealed bag on the bench. You can keep your underwear on. When you’re ready, the connecting door gives access to the examination room.”

“Thanks,” I say, not looking at Saverio as I head for the changing room.

I’m nervous when I lower myself into the examination chair a short while later. This is my first ob-gyn visit aside from the initial one where I got the blood test to confirm the pregnancy. I don’t have medical insurance, and the ob-gyn fees are steep.

To my surprise, Saverio takes up a place next to me as the doctor prepares my stomach with gel and switches on an ultrasound machine. I cringe when the growl of my stomach cuts into the silence. After what happened, the thought of food alone makes me want to puke, but the reaction of my body is mechanical, reminding me that it needs energy.