Ivan 2 (Her Russian Protector #9) - Roxie Rivera Page 0,63

she’s fine. It’s me.”

Paco’s face darkened with worry. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t,” he choked out. “I just can’t.”

Overwhelmed, he shut off Erin’s monitor. “I’m leaving.”

“Okay. Sure. We can handle it. Don’t worry.” Paco trailed him across the office and out into the gym. He rubbed his hand on Ivan’s back in a fatherly way. “Whatever it is, you’ll get through it. You always do.”

“Not this time,” Ivan replied with defeat. “Not this time, Paco.”

After that, it was all a blur. He stumbled out to his SUV and left the parking lot. He didn’t have a destination in mind. He just drove. His brain wouldn’t stop taunting him with visions of Erin holding a baby that wasn’t his or Erin marrying someone else, someone who looked disturbingly similar to Teague. All the times he had imagined her singing to their baby, feeding their baby and bringing their baby to the gym were replaced with images of her doing that for another man, a better man. A real man who could give her the family she deserved.

For the first time in his life, Ivan faced a problem he couldn’t solve with his fists. He couldn’t slay this monster. He was the monster.

All his greatest fears had manifested. He had always been afraid that he would ruin Erin’s life. He was an ex-con, a former mafia enforcer, a prize fighter. He wasn’t educated. He was covered in the evidence of his sins, tattoos that caused people to judge Erin for loving him.

And now? Now, he couldn’t give her what she wanted most. If she stayed with him, she would forever wonder about the life she might have had. The life she lost by marrying him. The life he stole from her.

Even as he tried to prepare himself to lose her, his heart wasn’t ready to give up. His hands tightened on the wheel, his knuckles turning white as he held on for dear life. Please don’t leave me.

Chapter Sixteen

As I listened to a recovering mom with four young kids tell her story, I decided this was the best spontaneous decision I had made in a long time. The meetings I had attended for the loved ones of addicts were helpful, but this was a different experience altogether. It was eye-opening to hear these strangers discuss their troubles and describe their struggles to stay sober. It gave me a better understanding of what was happening inside Ruby’s head.

Now that the initial shock of hearing about the sexual abuse happening inside the jail had passed, I was angry. Furious, actually. I wanted to burn that fucking place down. I wanted everyone involved to be arrested, paraded through public, shamed, and sent to prison. I wanted to shine on a light on the horrible corruption and force the local government to fix it.

I needed evidence before I could do that. I needed irrefutable proof of what was happening. Would Ivan help me get it? Would he arrange a meeting with Kostya? If I got the proof, I would need a strategy. Lena would be the best person to ask for help on that account. She was scary smart and sneaky as hell and understood how to work the media for maximum impact. A media expose would probably lead to faster arrests and changes than giving the evidence to someone like Eric Santos, who, despite his best intentions, didn’t have the power needed for an issue like this.

After the meeting ended, I left the meeting at Ruby’s side. We skipped the refreshments table with the questionable donuts and the burnt coffee. “These meetings need better catering.”

Ruby snorted. “Seriously, sis?”

“I’m just saying,” I answered in a sing-song voice, “that if they had a taco bar, I would stick around to socialize.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Ruby replied with an amused shake of her head.

“I’m starving, actually,” I admitted. “I skipped lunch because of my meetings and then got distracted at the gym, and now we’re here so...”

“Do you want to stop for tacos on the way back to the gym?”

“Do you?”

She rolled her eyes. “I asked first.”

“Yes.”

She yanked open her door and hopped into her seat. “Was that so hard?”

“Obviously,” I muttered while reaching for my phone at the bottom of my purse. “I’m going to see if Ivan wants me to grab him something to eat, too.”

“I watched the guy eat fifty eggs for breakfast. I’m pretty sure his answer to that question is always yes.”

“Generally,” I agreed with a smile. I held up my phone to unlock it with my