19
ANTON
“What do you mean you saw her?” I demand. “Where? Fucking where?”
My thoughts are racing. Marina is here. She’s here, and Jessa is… Where the hell is Jessa?
“On the eastern perimeter of the market,” Yulian insists. “I’m sure it was her.”
“A brunette or a blonde?”
“She’s blonde again.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure, Anton,” Yulian growls. “I know what Marina looks like.”
“You didn’t the first time around, and that’s why all this shit is happening,” I snap viciously. He recoils in obvious hurt, but I don’t give a shit. His feelings don’t matter anymore. Only Jessa’s safety does. “Why didn’t you go after her?”
“Don’t you think that’s exactly what I did?” he exclaims. “She’s not here alone. She’s got people. I followed her and lost her in the crowd. Or would you have preferred if I opened fire on a bunch of civilians?”
“Anton!” Lev calls, breaking up our burgeoning fight as he maneuvers between a family and a couple to get to us. “We gotta move.”
“You spotted her?” Yulian asks.
“No,” Lev says, his face grim. “It’s Jessa.”
My hands ball into fists immediately. “Jessa? Is she hurt? What the fuck happened?”
Lev looks like he has no idea what to say. “She… she fell.”
But I can see it in his eyes: it wasn’t a fall. With Marina around, nothing is a coincidence.
I shove my way through the crowd. Lev leads me to a stall with a striped awning overhead. I see only Jessa’s feet sticking out from between the crowd, looking so pale and forlorn that I want to fall to my knees at the sight of them. Margaret and Thomas are kneeling beside her, both grim.
I drop to a lunge in the grass. “Jessa?”
Her eyes are hazy and panicked when they find mine. “Anton,” she says breathlessly. “The baby. I can feel…”
That’s when I look down and see the blood staining the front of her dress. It’s only a smattering, barely enough to stain the gauzy fabric, but it makes my blood run cold.
Margaret moves aside as I hurry forward and scoop Jessa up in my arms. She’s weightless, limp. She lolls against my chest as though the effort of holding her own head up is too much.
“We’re going home,” I growl.
I can feel her tears soak through the front of my shirt. “Just make sure the baby’s okay,” she whispers.
“I’m going to make sure you’re both okay.”
“Will she be alright?” Margaret asks, looking at Jessa. She looks like she’s close to tears.
“I’m taking her back to our hotel,” I say. “I’ll be in touch.”
She just nods as I veer back into the crowd with Jessa in my arms. I keep a lookout, trying to spot the bitch whose fingerprints are all over this fucking nightmare.
Lev pulls the jeep up as I approach and Yulian holds the door open for me. I get in the back seat, still cradling Jessa in my arms. I could set her down beside me, but I refuse to let her go. My eyes keep flitting to the bloody spatter on the front of her dress.
“Inform the nursing staff at the hotel,” I say. “Tell them we’re on our way.”