Page 85 of The Marriage

Tears freely rolled down her cheeks as she said, “I don’t know where they are. Maxim wouldn’t give me that information.”

Roman was sure it was true. Maxim would have used Masha to gain access to Karine—and no matter what their relationship was, he wouldn’t risk being found by divulging his whereabouts to Masha. Clearly, she was as disposable to Karine’s father as she was to Roman. Shame that the only one who did care for Masha was the same women she had put in danger by doing what she’d done.

Roman rubbed a hand over his face, the frustration growing as the questions bounced between one to another in his mind. Where would he even begin looking for her? Where could Maxim have taken her—back to Chicago? Were they hiding out in the Nevada deserts? Was he going to return her to Dima and make peace?

How long do I have to find her?

“You helped someone take her from where she was safe. Where she was finally getting the help she needed. Now what? She’s with the same man who has used and manipulated her all her life.”

Masha yelled her anger back at him. “He is her father! He deserves a chance to—”

“He deserves fucking nothing. I was taking care of her! You saw what she was like in Vermont. How much better she was doing. You saw that, Masha. Why?”

The woman said nothing, her pursed lips wet with her tears, and a hard gaze turned on the wall away from him.

That was it.

Right then, Roman was done.

“Fuck this,” he muttered, standing from the chair. “You’re insane. All these years, Karine was wrong in thinking you were on her side when all you did was whisper in her father’s ears. How long have you been warming his bed?”

Masha shook her head violently. “I love her, too. It’s not just about him.”

Roman was already walking away.

She shouted at his back, “You have to believe I love her, too!”

“Yeah, but at what fucking cost.”

He didn’t wait for a response before he left the basement.

SIXTEEN

His mother rarely ever came to the loft to visit him, and that suited Roman just fine.

So, when he emerged from the basement to find Claire standing next to a vehicle that was in the process of being chopped down by two of the guys—who had scattered earlier when the boys arrived—Roman was more than surprised.

“Ma.”

She looked away from the pieces of dismantled vehicle to find him wiping his hands on a rag one of the guys had left on a work bench. More red than usual, her cheeks and sunglasses belied the calm way she presented herself. She didn’t have to say she was worried—he could see it.

Claire still fixed a warm smile on her face and walked open-armed toward her son. Tipping her head sideways at the car, she asked pointedly, “Can we talk—why don’t you invite me up to your loft?”

“We can go upstairs,” Roman told her, “but I don’t want you cleaning up after me.”

His mother was who she was. Cleaning was the way she coped, but he hadn’t needed his mother picking up after him since he was a boy. She didn’t need to be in his business in that way, either.

“No, don’t worry, I’ll leave that for Karine—if you’ll even let her tidy your things. You always were particular about that.”

Claire curled an arm around him so he could lead the way. Hearing Karine’s name made him a little sick. He wasn’t sure if his mother knew that Karine was missing from the facility. How would she?

In the loft, he found it amusing the way his mother refrained from pointing out all the little things that might make his place feel more like home. Or rather, a home to her standards. She wouldn’t mean any harm, but he’d learned to like less.

“Coffee?” he asked, trying to ease her into the reason she was there.

Adrenaline raced through his veins. Masha was still in the basement, tied up and left in her own misery until he was ready to say otherwise. Claire would have undoubtedly, immediately gone to the woman’s rescue if she knew—regardless of what Masha had done.

Is who she is, he repeated to himself.