Chapter 0306

Even if he doesn’t know yet, for sure, that it’s his baby? If Kent can get here. He will.

So I too stare between the door and the wardrobe, looking for him. Waiting.

Where is he?

The silence in the room grows, as the three of us wait.

And I thought that it would be better — that I'd get used to it, would calm down — but listening to the horrible noises below —

gunfire, screaming, shouted commands to move here or go there —

All that noise winds me tighter and tighter until I think I might pop.

And throughout all of it — I know that I’m listening for him. For the sound of Kent’s voice, the echo of his own commands —

But I don’t hear it anywhere.

And I go cold as I realize that that might mean...

Oh my god.

I slap a hand over my mouth, shaking my head in horror.

Is he already dead?

Daniel stands steady, staring at the door, his hands tight around his gun as my mind absolutely whirls in panic.

Did the father of my child fucking die hours after I found out I was pregnant?

What on earth was I going to —

But before I can get any further in my thoughts, the sound of something hard banging against glass makes us all spin towards

the windows.

We all go rigid with fright and Daniel shouts something wordless as he raises the gun towards my windows, towards the

darkness outside that makes it impossible to see anything —

But suddenly, of all things, a voice echoes from the darkness outside.

“Don’t you fucking shoot me, Lippert!”

Daniel hesitates now, dropping the muzzle of the gun just a little in confusion. Because we — we know that voice —

I know that voice —

I jump to my feet, heading impetuously for the window, acting on pure instinct rather than logical thought.

“Fay!” Daniel shouts. “Don’t open that —*

But it's too late. My hands are already at the top of the window, flicking the lock, and then my palms are flat against the pane

pushing up so that I can see...

Ivan.

Crouched there, on the little roof outside of my bedroom window, glaring in at me, a gun in his hands pointing in at us.

And then a horrified gasp escapes my mouth and I slap my palm over my lips, staring at him and shaking my head.

But not at his gun.

“Oh, Ivan,” I breathe between my fingers, lifting my eyes up to meet his. “What did you do?”

“What I had to, Fay,” he growls,

flicking his eyes to me even as he

points his gun at D jel yhcched'ris

maitre Phim. “Drop the gun,

Daniel!” he shouts. “That's the only

way you're getting out of this alive!

This is your last warning! Drop it!”

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Daniel hesitates but Jerome croaks

out his name and, glanai ing at iis I

friend Qani@ladises and tosses

t un aside so that it lands on the

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But I barely see any of this, my eyes trained on Ivan who finally looks back at me.

“All right, Fay,” he says, his voice grim. “It’s all over. Let's end this.”

But I have no response. I can’t say

ee Instead, my OWE cy. justanitt

ake in the

pspraniven se that covers all of his

peal tattoos. Please read the

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And over it, the bulletproof vest.

That reads, in four bright yellow block letters:

NYPD.