My Russian Nightmare (5 page)

Chapter 5

I’m trapped. Like a fucking lab rat. That’s what I am. A fucking pest that they can toy with, tease, and torture. I lie on the air mattress in silence, hoping if I’m quiet enough they’ll forget I’m here. I’m cold and start to shiver. I want to get dressed, but I have no clothes. I look up at the bed and consider climbing back in so I can pull the blanket over me, but I don’t. I don’t want to give the impression that I’m eager for what they are planning.

I’m numb. It’s like there’s a switch on my heart and brain, and someone just turned them down and now they are working on low, like a car on auxiliary power. I close my eyes and think about my brother. I wish I could send him a telepathic message. I wonder if he’s awake. Is he in pain? Does he know I’m not there? Does he know I love him?

My mind yanks me back into my early childhood days as a memory steals me from the moment.

*

It’s dark and cold. I see nothing. I’m surrounded by a threatening blackness. It’s like night without the moon and stars. I’m frightened and alone. And so cold! I hug my arms around me, and rub my hands up and down my arms.

“HELP!” I scream at the top of my lungs. “Somebody please help me!”

My throat is raw and burns. I want Mommy. I’ve been screaming for her and Daddy since Sammy pushed me into the freezer, but neither have come to rescue me. I hate Sammy! He knows I don’t like to be alone and that I’m afraid of the dark, afraid a monster is going to sneak up on me and slice me open.

Wait until they find out what he did to me. Daddy is going to make Sammy cry. I hope Daddy spanks him hard so he never does this again.

“DADDY! “ I try screaming again. Tears stream down my face, hot and wet, but it’s so cold in here, I think they’re going to turn into icicles.

I sit on the floor of the freezer and turn myself into a human ball. I wrap my arms around my knees and tuck my head down. I rock back and forth, crying. Screaming. Pleading with God to let someone find me.

The door opens. Afraid it’s Sammy and that he’s going to do something even worse to me, I slowly lift my eyes.

“Thank God I found you! She’s in the freezer!” he calls out. Thank God it isn’t Sammy!

Mommy rushes in and scoops me up in her arms. She hugs me and holds my head against her warm shoulder as she carries me out of the cold and back into the warmth of the kitchen. I cling to her and cry harder. I don’t want to let go of Mommy. Ever.

“SAMMY!” Daddy yells. I never heard him yell this loud. He’s so angry. I think the walls of the diner are shaking. “Get your ass in here!” Daddy’s going to punish Sammy, and Sammy deserves it.

He’s in the kitchen with us in a flash. “You found her. Whew,” he says, wiping his hand across his forehead like he actually cares.

“How did your sister end up in the freezer?” Dad growls.

“I don’t know,” Sammy shrugs. “Ask him. He did it,” Sammy says, pointing to the boy that rescued me. The boy that’s now my hero.

“Is that true?” My father turns his threatening stare on the frightened young boy.

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “I didn’t,” he says to another young woman that has joined us in the kitchen.

“Don’t lie!” Sammy accuses. “First you shut the lights in the basement and tried to lock me in there, then you came up and stuck Kiera in the freezer.”

“I didn’t. Mommy, I swear!” he pleads, pulling on his mother’s sleeve.

“Who found her?” Sammy asks. “Maybe whoever found her locked her in.”

I hate Sammy. He’s trying to get my friend in trouble, and I know he didn’t do it. I was peeking out from the kitchen at him. My friend sat in a booth drawing. Earlier he promised to draw me a picture of a unicorn. My mouth was covered from behind me so I couldn’t scream, and someone pulled me back and shoved me into the freezer.

I didn’t see who did it, and even though it felt like someone bigger and taller, I know it was Sammy. He hates me. And he hates my friend. I think my brother is trying to get rid of the boy. I can’t let that happen. Then it will just be me and Sammy again, and I’m afraid of Sammy.

“Mommy.” I whisper.

“Yes, princess?”

Before I say another word, I look between the two boys. My friend is scared. He’s hiding behind his mother. Sammy is angry. I know that look. If I get him in trouble, he’ll beat me up later. If I get my friend in trouble, I might not see him again. He already went away for a while. He only just came back.

“I’m sorry. I was playing in there and the door closed.” I barely choke the words out. “I got locked in.”

Mommy knows I’m lying. She looks at Sammy, then back at me.

“Don’t protect your brother, Kiera. He needs to be punished. You could’ve been seriously hurt.”

I shake my head and drop my eyes to the ground. I hate lying to Mommy. I love her so much. But I’m so afraid of my brother. It’s not Sammy I’m protecting, it’s the other boy. “It’s my fault.”

“We have to get back to work.” Daddy says. “If anything like this happens again, the three of you will be punished. For a very long time. Does everyone understand?”

We all nod. Mommy escorts us out of the kitchen and leads us to a booth. I slide in, and my friend sits next to me. He and Sammy glare at each other. Sammy gets up and sits in another booth away from us.

I take my friend’s hand and hold it under the table so Sammy can’t see. That’s what got him so angry to begin with. He saw us holding hands earlier.

“I won’t let him hurt you again,” the boy with the dark eyes says. “I won’t let anyone hurt you. Ever.”

*

The memory is so vivid, but I don’t know if it really happened or if I’m making the whole thing up in my mind. Maybe I’m just wishing someone,
anyone,
will burst through that door and save me. Maybe I’m wishing that Dima will have a change of heart and be like the little boy with the dark eyes.

Whatever happened to him? We never heard from him after he moved. I remember fighting with Sammy when we were kids. He always ordered me around and bullied me to get his way, but I don’t think he’d ever be that mean to lock me in the freezer. Would he? Would the other boy? He did find me, and it’s plausible that it’s because he knew where to look.

“Kiera.”

My body stiffens at the sound of Dima’s voice. I don’t move. For a moment I consider pretending to be asleep, but I’m sure he’ll see right through that.

“I have some clothes for you.” I feel the slight breeze and thump next to me as he drops what he’s holding. “I’ll give you a minute to yourself to get dressed.”

I hear his retreating footsteps. When I’m certain he’s in the other room and I won’t have to bear the humiliation of looking in his eyes or having him stare at me as I dress, I pick up the clothes next me. My clothes. Clothes I left at home when I went to school.

This is the moment I start to lose it. My hands tremble as I lift each item to examine it. My bra and underwear. My shirt with the frayed hem. My jeans wearing thin at the knees. I quickly change before he comes back.

“Are you dressed?” he calls.

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry about Masha,” he says when he returns. “She was way out of line.”

“I’m surprised you’re with her.”

“With her?”

“Dating her, sleeping with her,” I look away from him. I don’t want him to get the wrong idea and think I’m jealous. “You seem too nice to be with someone so bitchy.”

“I’m glad you think I’m nice,” I see a hint of a smile playing on his lips and in his eyes. “But I’m not
with
her.” He pulls his thumb across my cheek, and there it is again, tingling on my skin where he touches me. “She’s a mistake I wish I could undo.”

I nod and drop my eyes, wondering why his hand is cupping my cheek and why I like it so much.

“Kiera.”

I love the way he says my name, with so much emotion, and I can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking. I look up and meet his eyes. They’re sad and warm and make my heart beat faster. There’s something about him, something familiar that I can’t put my finger on. It pulls me in and draws me to him. No matter how bad I want to fight it, my heart tells me not to. That running to him and getting lost in his arms is the way to go, not running away from him.

I’ve heard about Stockholm syndrome. I wonder if that’s what I’m experiencing. Isn’t it too soon for that? Understanding that the things I’m feeling might not be real, I snap back to the moment.

“How do you have my clothes?”

“Sammy gave me a few of your things.”

I suck in a deep breath and straighten my back to my full height as I push his hand away from me, searching for strength and testing the boundaries of how hard I could push back against him.

“Liar! My brother wouldn’t give you anything of mine. You stole them. You stole them when you tried to kill him.” My voice cracks and sounds much weaker than I intended it to.

“No!” He shakes his head. “I didn’t hurt Sammy. He’s my friend.”

“Bullshit!” I yell at him and take a step away.

He grabs my arms and pulls me to him. He’s inches away. Heat bounces off him and slams against my trembling body with brute force. He tilts his head down as he speaks to me, and I feel the warmth of his breath against my lips. I know at this moment these are not the things I should be focused on, but I can’t help it. I have no control over the craziness going on in my head.

“I wasn’t there.”

I turn my head so I don’t have to look at him, but he’s having none of it. Dima’s hands are on either cheek, and he turns my face gently so that I’m facing him. It’s like he knows eventually I won’t be able to stop myself from looking up at his handsome face. Whoa. Handsome? When the hell did he become attractive?

“I didn’t hurt your brother. I swear.”

“I don’t believe you.” I shake my head and back away from him. So much for my plan to play nice and win his trust.

“He knew this was going to happen, Kiera. He provoked them.”

“Them? You’re one of them!” I shriek. “If you’re his friend, why didn’t you defend him? Why didn’t you stop it?”

“Don’t you think I would have?” He raises his voice, and it sounds pained. Either there is truth to what he’s saying, or he is one hell of an actor. “This is the last thing I wanted to happen. He’s like a brother to me. And you…” He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “I would’ve laid down my life to stop this from happening to you.”

“You’re crazy.” I’m full-out crying. “You don’t even know me. And Sammy would never give you my things. Not without telling me. And I never heard him talk about you. He never even mentioned you.”

He pulls me into his arms. “I swear I’m not lying.”

I push against his hard, chiseled chest, solid and strong. I struggle to break free from his hold, but it’s no use. He’s not budging an inch.

“Let me go!”

“Not until you stop fighting. I don’t want to tie you back up, so you need to calm down.”

Another threat. Somehow his actions and words don’t pair up, no matter how bad I want them to.

I end my struggle. It isn’t getting me anywhere. I need to reserve my strength and create an opportunity.

He holds my head between his hands again and stares into my eyes. He’s not moving, not speaking. It’s like he’s searching for something. I have no idea what he thinks he’s going to find.

“Please, we have to talk calmly and figure things out.”

“Like what? What is there to talk about?”

He releases his hold on me. Both the physical hold and the emotional hold his eyes used to disarm me. He runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “I need you to trust me.”

“Trust is earned.”

“I know. And I’ve given you no reason not to trust me.”

Is he kidding?

“Except kidnapping me. Tying me up. Holding me against my will!”

He nods, realizing the hole I blasted through his argument.

“Yes. But that’s it.”

“That’s it! That’s it? Are you serious?”

“Yes! I am.” The volume of his voice makes me jump. “I didn’t hurt you. It could’ve been a lot worse and you know it. And since we’ve been alone, I’ve been nothing but kind to you.”

“Nothing but kind? Letting that bitch torture me? That’s being kind? And using the threat of my brother to make sure I comply? Is that being kind, too?”

He releases a long breath, turns, and takes a few steps away from me. “This is getting us nowhere.”

The instant he creates space is the instant I want to pull him back to me. I can’t just leave it alone. I should let him go and get far away from me, but I can’t. My heart pounds heavier against my chest. I need to lure him back.

What is wrong with me?

“You want my trust?”

He turns, and I have his attention.

“Then I need you to prove you’re worthy of it.”

“I’m listening.”

“If any of what you said is true, get me the hell out of here.”

He closes his eyes tight and shakes his head. “I want to, but it’s not that simple.”