“This is getting fucking pathetic. Get out of our room, or I’ll get a restraining order.”
The taller, broad-shouldered man responds by grabbing Luc’s neck and slamming him against the door, twisting his arms behind his back.
“You’re being detained for questioning.”
Luc’s hollow laughter echoes in the suite.
“You’ve run out of shit to charge me with, haven’t you?”
No, I can’t let him do this.
Tears burn my eyes and throat as I watch him slap handcuffs on my husband.
“Babe, it’ll be all right. I’ll be out in an hour.”
“No, it’s not all right!” I turn to Frank, yanking him with my free arm. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Saving your life,” he says gruffly.
Luc tries to brush it off his shoulders, but I can see the rage pounding behind his eyes as Frank rips open the door and pushes him to the cops waiting outside.
“Take him to the station.”
“Yes, sir.”
“NO!”
The door slams shut before I can say goodbye.
I stare at it for a few moments in stunned silence.
Boucher strides into the suite like he owns it, taking off his jacket and draping it over a chair.
A vicious surge of rage runs through me.
“Get the fuck out of my life!”
I lower Étienne back to the crib next to the table.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Frank yells back, his box-shaped head blazing red. “A couple weeks ago, you were begging me to save you.”
“Things changed.”
He scoffs at that, marching into the kitchen to help himself to a glass of water. His eyes graze the surroundings, and then they land on the ultrasound taped to the fridge.
The glass slips from his hand and shatters to the floor. The shards scatter widely over the tiles, and I scream with anger, but he rips the picture from the fridge and waves it in front of my face.
“WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?”
He looks inhuman, almost demented. I throw my hands in front of my face.
“Stop it!”
“You’re having another baby with that maniac?”
I’ve never seen him like this. I’m scared to be alone with him. He grabs both of my arms, his blue eyes burning red and filled with tears.
“I can get you an abortion. I’ll take you to a clinic right now.”
He drags me forward, and I scream for Luc instinctively, even though I know he’s not here. Frank lets me go as if he was burned.
“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice cracking. “I didn’t mean to—”
“I want this baby!”
“I’m sorry!”
“How dare you come in here and tell me that I need an abortion?”
His huge hands cover his face and suddenly his chest shakes with a huge sob. My guts clench hard and a wave of nausea hits my stomach.
“You need to leave.”
His hands slide from his face, the determination cutting back into his voice. “I’m not leaving until you come to your senses.”
“Frank. I tolerated you for a year because I needed your help. I put up with your advances, even though it made me sick to feel your hand on my shoulder. Please stop interfering with my life.”
His eyes blaze like highly polished glass. It’s unnerving. “You’re going to come with me right now.”
“No, I don’t think I will.”
“You will,” he says, voice hardening. “Or I’ll take your son away from you.”
* * *
Étienne is strapped to my chest as I walk down a sunny street, unable to feel any of the warmth from the sky because my hand is locked inside his.
Officer Boucher holds my hand as we walk down the street like a normal couple. People smile at us as we walk by, assuming the baby strapped to my chest is Frank’s. He takes it in stride, the smile on his face widening when someone compliments us on our “beautiful baby.”
I want to vomit.
He showed me the document from the judge ordering temporary protective custody to the police if I didn’t go out to lunch with him.
I can do this, I repeat to myself. I can. Just an hour or two, and I’ll be back home with Luc. Then we can plan how to get rid of this bastard. It’ll be fine.
Frank lets go of my hand for a moment to push the button to walk across the street, and he turns his head at me, smiling.
There’s something wrong with him. Something deeper than just an inappropriate crush. I never noticed it before. I can barely move without feeling a rolling wave of nausea.
“Beautiful day, isn’t it?”
“Whatever.”
He tries to take my hand again, but I yank it out of his reach, feeling disgusted by his very presence at my side.
“Claire,” he begins in a warning voice.