"Oh, my God," I whimper loudly, and it comes at a moment of dead silence. "Stepan!"
He spins wildly, seeing the man and firing off two rounds before Dimitri can get his shot off, and then he drops me to the ground. I fall, crawling toward the wall and losing the gun somewhere in the darkness, but I'm too scared to shoot, anyway. I curl into a ball and press my palms against my ears, crying hysterically.
This can't be happening. They've come after Stepan, which means they either know the baby is his, or that he killed Maksim, or they've followed me here. Either way, it means I have to tell him I'm pregnant now before this gets any worse.
"Get up," he hisses, grabbing my elbow. I know he doesn't mean to be harsh, but he yanks me toward the door, stumbling every other step.
When we burst into the colder night air, I'm smacked by how wet everything is. Rain mists on my face, and my feet slosh in puddles as he urges me toward his car. It starts before we even get to it, and he tugs the door open and shoves me inside. But the shooting never stops.
Bullets pound the doors and trunk and the rear window smashes as more rounds hit it. When he climbs in, I'm happy to see he's not injured, but the way he throws the car in gear and peels out throws me into the door. I cling to the handle for dear life as his tires spit up gravel and mud, and the side of his car grinds along the brick pillar as we pass through the gate.
"What the hell!" he snarls, watching his rearview mirror. "Did you tell someone where you were going?"
I clamber for the seatbelt, snapping into place with one hand before clinging to the door again. "I swear, no. I didn't. I just got an Uber."
He's so angry, glaring at the mirrors as he speeds up the street. When I look over my shoulder, I see two sets of headlights. There were way more than three men. We just didn’t see them all. "Drive faster!" I urge, but he pounds the steering wheel.
"Fuck!" His eyes flick between the road ahead and the mirror to watch behind us, but I can tell his mind is in a million different places. "I didn’t get my phone. We have to ditch them, or we can't even get somewhere safe. I can't call for help."
This can't be happening. What if he gets in an accident and kills us both? What if he kills the baby?
"Stepan, please. You're scaring me." I've never seen him like this before. Normally, he's calm and put together, strong and confident. Not this.
"Wat do you want me to do, Marina? Should I stop and talk to them?" He's so angry, so terrifyingly furious.
"No, it's just... Please." I press a hand to my belly and feel it roiling. I don't think I'll throw up, but if he even gets in a fender bender, I could lose the baby. "Stepan..."
"What is going on? We left Orlov clean. There's no way he traced it to me, and even if they did, how would they get to my house!"
I'm shaking, glancing over my shoulder as he accelerates in excess of a hundred miles an hour, zipping down city streets to evade the men I know are part of my family. They could die. We could die. This is insane.
"Stepan!" I whimper again. "Please, you're scaring me."
"Who is it, Marina? Who's after us? You didn't shoot that man. Did you know him?" Now his gaze bounces from my face to the mirror too, and he's not even paying close attention to the street. We're gonna wreck so bad.
"I recognized him. It was Dimitri... He works for my father." I'm gasping for air, almost hyperventilating.
"Why would your father come after you?" Stepan takes a hard left, squealing the tires, and the back end of the car smashes into a city trash can on the street corner. "What did you tell him?"
I think I'm going to be sick.
Looking back one more time, I realize I have to tell him the truth. The only reason my father would send me after me is if theybelieve Stepan is the man I’m sleeping with. He'd see it as an insult at best, or open rebellion, maybe worse.
"I'm pregnant, okay? And he knows it. He knows I'm having a baby, and if he followed me to your house, he probably knows it's yours." The words come out in a rush, broken only by sobs as tears stream down my cheeks.
Stepan slams on the gas pedal and zips through another intersection, this time not speaking to me at all, and I hear a loud screech and boom. Behind us, one of the cars has hit something and a fiery ball rises into the night sky. It blocks the street for the other car chasing us, and when Stepan turns again, this time down an alley, the sight fades from view.
I sink into the chair, covering my face and crying. When I bend forward, all I want to feel is his hand on my back, but he continues to drive without acknowledging what I've said to him. It wasn't the way I thought I'd tell him and I want more than anything to take it back and help him understand I never wanted to hide it from him, but all I can do is sob.
After several more long minutes, the car slows, then comes to a stop. He puts it in gear, and I sit up, using the hem of my T-shirt to wipe my face. He isn't looking at me. He's staring out the windshield with one hand over his mouth, unblinking.
I have no clue where we are. I look around and see only more parked cars and dark houses. I don't know if he even knows where we are. The houses are huge, gated monstrosities like you'd expect wealthy people to possess. Fancy lights shine upward on the fronts of them, and every single one has meticulous landscaping.
It's so quiet, I start to get afraid that he may never speak to me again. I've screwed everything up so badly, I'm not sure how to fix it. When I touch his elbow, he still doesn't move. He keeps staring blankly, and his jaw works as he grits his teeth and then relaxes.
"Say something," I mumble, but I'm scared of what he may say.
When he lowers his hand and turns to face me slowly, I shudder and pull my hand back, hugging my arms over my chest. I don't want him to be angry with me. I never wanted anyone to be angry with me. My selfishness got me into this, and I’ve hurt so many people. Maksim is dead because of me.