Page 49 of Dirty Legacy

I look down at the phone. It’s not mine, but it’s a phone. With shaking hands, I dial Mom’s number, and I’m afraid as it rings and rings, about to hit voicemail, before she finally picks up.

“Hello? If you’re trying to sell me a car warranty⁠—“

“Mom, it’s me.”

“Angie? Are you okay?” She sounds clear, thank God. “I’ve been worried sick.”

“I’m fine. I’m with Connor at his house.”

“You mean your husband? That psychopath? Hon, tell me what to do, because I’m panicking here. He said if I called the police, he’d burn this place down with me in it⁠—“

I let out a nasty grunt of frustration. “He lied. Look, Mom…” I’m about to tell her to call the cops. Beg her to get some help.

But what will that do?

I graze my hand over my belly and my heart flutters.

Connor’s right. He’s been thinking about this child more than I have, and if I really am in as much danger as he says, I have to ride this out.

At least for now.

“I’m fine,” I say, breathless and curling around myself, hating every word. “Don’t worry, okay?”

“I’m pretty freaked out. He married you at gunpoint. That can’t have been legal!”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m safe and he says he’s going to bring you here too. When he does, don’t fight it. There’s room service.”

A brief pause. “Seriously? Where are you?” she asks incredulously.

“Still in the city. Just do what he says, alright? We’ll be okay if we keep our heads down for now.”

“Alright, hon, if that’s what you think, but this is very, very strange. And screw that man for pointing a gun at me.”

“I’ll talk to him. He won’t do it again.”

She bursts out laughing. I grin too at the absurdity of it all. When we hang up, I don’t feel better.

But I think I’m seeing my situation clearly for once.

For whatever reason, Connor cares about this baby. That makes me important. He’s not going to hurt me, so long as I’m still pregnant. I don’t know how he feels about me, and that doesn’t matter.

We’re both aligned on this one thing: protecting our child at any cost.

Which kills me. I want to text Nadia and beg her for help more than anything in the world.

But right now that’ll only make things worse.

I’ll keep my head down. Shut my mouth. Play the game.

Until the opportunity to escape presents itself.

13

CONNOR

“Isimply cannot and will not live like this!” Danielle storms down the hallway, shaking her head violently, Dad on her heels. “There are mouse droppings in our room!”

“They’re in the bedroom next to ours, darling, and we have an entire wing of the house,” Dad says, but Danielle ignores him. She marches straight to me and gets in my face.