“Promise me you will come back on your own.”
“They will be killed, Robert, you are sending men to die.”
“They are very good.”
“We are better.”
He chuckles again, as if we are not talking about lives being lost for nothing. “Promise to come back and I will call them off.”
“I’m a bit weak right now, Robert. I just woke up from a coma. Remember?”
“Two weeks.”
“Two weeks?” I ask, incredulous. “Two weeks?”
“You’re strong.”
“I’m fine.” I say it through gritted teeth. “I’m just not your fucking employee.”
“No, you’re my wife. And if you don’t get back to me, I will come for you. And people will die.”
“You’re a monster.”
“True, but I’m your monster, love.”
“I’m not your love.”
“Oh, yes.” Now he sounds cocky and so damn sure of himself. “You are.”
I breathe in deeply through my nose and let it out slowly before answering. “I have to speak to the doctor about what is safe.”
“You will have the baby with me, Sydney. I will be there when our son is born.”
My heart picks up speed. Our son. He is my son. “Speaking of sons,” I say, hiding the fear in my chest, “how is Fernando’s campaign to kill you going?”
“He didn’t want to kill me,” Robert corrects. “He wanted to control me, just as you suggested. We’ve reconciled. He’s a good man.”
“A good man? Are you using that term loosely?”
“Intelligent, fierce, talented. I’m proud of him.” I can’t believe this conversation. But then again maybe I can. “Come back to me, Sydney…or I will come for you.”
“You really think that’s going to work on me? Next you’ll threaten Blue and then…” I let the sentence hang in the air. Robert can fill in the blanks. He too is intelligent, fierce, and talented.
“It’s not a threat, it’s a warning.”
“Let me warn you, remind you, of who the fuck you are talking to, Robert Maxim.”
“I know who you are, my love. Sydney Motherfucking Rye.”
“And would you say threatening me is a good idea?”
“Good idea?” He swirls the words around in his mouth as if they are a fine whiskey. “It certainly is engaging.”
“Fuck off.”
“I will send a transport for you in two weeks, Sydney. I suggest you get on it.”
“I suggest you go fuck yourself.”
“I’ll save that job for you.”
“In your dreams.”
“Nightly.” His voice has gone full dark chocolate and black velvet.
I hang up and resist the urge to throw my phone against the wall. Do I trust him that he will wait two weeks? I glance down at myself. The size of my belly is astounding. There is some tomato sauce on my shirt from the pasta I ate earlier—caught on the shelf of my stomach. “I need a shower,” I tell Blue.
He looks at me like it’s probably not a good idea to do that solo. He’s right. A knock at the door saves me from making any decisions. “Come in!” I call.
“Hey!” Dan calls from the other room. He enters the bedroom on crutches. His hair has grown out into a halo of golden brown and his skin is sun-kissed.
“You look great,” I say with a grin.
He grins back. “It’s nice to see you awake.”
I pat the bed next to me. “Come have a seat.”
He maneuvers his butt onto the bed, his broken leg still in a cast, sticking straight out. “So,” I say. “Did you and Rebecca come to a consensus on who is going to the big crypto meeting?”
