A Baby for the Billionaire

57

KEREM

As soon as I arrive at the place, I land the helicopter on the property where the house is located, far from the residential areas.

Once the propellers are out of focus, I head down to find Juliet. My chest is pounding, crying out to break every bone in my ribcage.

"Mr. Deniz," one of the agents tells me, approaching me as soon as I'm on firm ground. "Officer Robinson, my pleasure."

He holds out his badge to show me that he is in fact who he says he is.

"Where is she, how is she?" I demand to know, deducing that he's the one the prosecutor put in charge of finding the house.

"Over there. She was examined by the ER, she is out of danger and a blood sample has been taken."

"Oh, wow," I mumble as soon as I spot her in the distance in the back of an ambulance, surrounded by a blanket.

"Juliet? Juliet!" I insist as I run in her direction and she watches me carefully. A flash seems to go through her eyes suddenly.

"Kerem!" she says.

I wrap her in an enthusiastic hug as I hold her close to my body, enjoying the moment. First, because when I found out that she had left home, I thought I would never see her again and second, because knowing that she was in danger and I wasn't there to help her, completely terrified me.

"You're fine, for heaven's sake. You are safe."

I hold her face in my hands and watch her. She's wet and smells of alcohol, an image that doesn't appeal to me at all but rather annoys me.

"Why did you do that?" I ask, giving way to fury.

"Do what?"

"Come to this place and get drunk."

Her eyes fills with tears.

"I just wanted...to have fun...I didn't know this would happen..."

Seeing her cry makes me realize that I shouldn't be judging her now. The important thing is to know that she's out of danger and she wouldn't have to give me explanations, but I want them now and I need to clarify the panorama to define that I wasn't wrong with her, that the image I once had of Juliet is exactly what I suspected from the beginning as a responsible, daring person with two fingers of a brain.

"Did they do something to you? Does something hurt? Did someone lay a hand on you?"

"I...I don't..."

"My God" I look under the blanket that wraps her and fear takes over my most terrifying ideas. "Why are you shirtless? He did it to you? That Jordan guy who was talking to you when I was on the phone?"

"I...I'm fine... N...he didn't touch me."

"And what does that mean? Why are you like this?"

"I poured alcohol on myself and he was going to lend me a T-shirt."

"So there he wanted to surpass that and you escaped from him."

"Yes..."

"And you locked yourself in the bathroom with your friend."

"I found her very bad, it was horrible."

"She's out of danger, they're going to clean her up at the hospital."

"Why am I not like her?" she asks me, with eyes like two fine crystals that are about to break.

"Do you know if she had a drug problem or something like that?"