My Russian Nightmare (6 page)

“Because you’re full of shit.”

“Because if I get you out right now, they’ll kill Sammy. Can you live with that? Knowing you’ll be the direct cause of his death?” 

I don’t answer. I drop my eyes, knowing he has a point.

“I didn’t think so. And believe me, they
will
kill him. Without a second thought. They’ll make sure it’s as painful as possible to teach you a lesson.” I don’t respond to him. There’s nothing to say. “And then they’ll hunt us down. And make no mistake, they’ll find us, because we’re being watched right now. They aren’t dumb. The second we make a run for it, they’ll be notified. They’ll find us. I’ll be beaten to within an inch of my life, and they’ll drag you back. Only this time, I won’t be there to run any interference for you. You’ll be completely unprotected. And they’ll make sure they hurt you so bad, you’ll never try to escape again.”

I don’t answer, because I know in my heart he’s telling the truth. He closes the distance between us once more, and I swear I feel the pounding of his heart in the air around me.

“Say the word, Kiera,” he whispers, and his voice makes me shiver. “Tell me you can live with the consequences, that you won’t hate yourself or me for the rest of your life, and we’ll leave right now. We’ll risk it all, leave everything behind.”

“I can’t leave Sammy.”

He nods. “I know. He thought if you were mad at him, super mad, you’d be okay leaving him behind.” The beautiful, pained man standing before me runs his hand through his hair, and for a split second, I wish my hands were running through it instead. His eyes pin me in place. I can’t move, even if I wanted to. “I knew it wouldn’t work.”

It takes a long moment for his words to sink in. “Wait. You’re not saying…? He’s not really mad at me? The fight, that was all a ruse?”

He nods. “He wanted to hurt you so bad you wouldn’t come back. He thought if he could keep you away at school, you’d have a chance. He only wanted to protect you.”

Tears streak down my cheeks. My brother to the rescue again, with no regard for himself.

“Oh, God. I’m so sorry,” I say to no one. I just hope in Sammy’s unconscious state, he somehow knows. Warmth spreads through me as Dima smoothes my hair. I feel a smidgeon better with him touching me, and I’m all too aware of the dangers that could lead to. I wipe the wetness from my skin and regroup. I need to figure shit out. I need to figure out why I’m so infatuated with this man that I should hate.

“We can run away and take him with us. There has to be some way.”

“Not now.” He shakes his head and brushes his knuckles down the side of my cheek. The touch is light and gentle and wakes up my senses with its tingling effect. Warmth and comfort spread through me, a complete contradiction to the feelings his touch should cause. “Not until he’s off the ventilator. He’s doing better, getting stronger, but we can’t move him yet. We don’t have the know how or the equipment. Plus it’ll slow us down so much, we won’t have a chance.”

“So what? I stay here and wait for them to sell me to the highest bidder like a mail-order bride?” He doesn’t say anything, but I see a sadness in his eyes and I understand. He’s powerless, just like me. I call him on it, not sure what I expect from him. “You can’t stop it, can you?”

He rubs his hand across his forehead. “I don’t know. But I’m doing all I can.”

“That doesn’t mean you can stop them before they marry me off.”

“Marry you? Kiera, that’s not…” His eyes scrunch up tight. His whole face looks like he’s in pain.

“But you said…” tiny bumps cover my hairless skin, making me shiver. “What do they want me for?”

He looks to the ground and presses his lips into a thin line before speaking. “They want to set you up in their strip club and rent you out.”

There’s no air in my lungs. I want to collapse into a puddle on the floor, but I don’t. I can’t allow myself that privilege. My throat feels strangled. He can’t be saying what I think he’s saying. “Rent me out for what?”

“As a prostitute.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I forget myself for a moment and strike his chest with my fist. He grabs my hand to stop me and holds it tight. My breath is caught in my throat. For a nanosecond, I panic. I’m afraid to look up into his eyes, that they’ll reveal the monster he really is.

I struggle to break free of his hold. He doesn’t let me. Instead he pulls me to him and runs his hands up and down my arms while trailing delicate little kisses along the top of my head. Tears stream from my eyes. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers, leaning his cheek against my head.

“Sorry? You’re not sorry. You’re the reason I’m in this mess. If you wanted to help me or save me, why didn’t you let me go at the hospital?”

“I only had minutes to get you out of your brother’s room without them knowing. I tried, but you fought me.”

“What did you expect? My brother was beaten to the edge of death and you grab me from behind. Did you think I’d go willingly?”

“We’re here now. We can’t go back and change the past,” he says, still holding me.  

“No. But we can go to the police and tell them everything. We can tell them what these animals did to Sammy. I’m sure they’re investigating. Maybe they already know.”

“The police aren’t an option.”

“Why not?” I squeal as I pull away from him enough that I can look into his eyes.

“Because they’re on the payroll.”

“We’ll call the news. Everyone from the local and national television stations. They’ll blast it out and then everyone will know. Someone will help us.”

“If anyone even bothers to look into this, you’ll be made to look crazy. They’ll portray you as hysterical and say that the incident with your brother triggered PTSD from the death of your parents, and because of it, you’re convinced there is a conspiracy against you. You won’t be able to get a restraining order, or any other sort of protection, and they’ll have free access to you.”

“How do you know this?”

“They already ran through the scenarios. I tried to talk them out of it. Gave them every reason to think it was a bad idea. I thought I could make them see you weren’t worth the trouble.”

Those words shouldn’t make me flinch, but they do. They hit me like a slap across the face. Dima’s hands reach for my cheeks again. His lips are close. So fucking close. I should punch him in the nose. Push him away. Fight him. But my mind is screaming out for him to lean just a little closer. Like if he kisses me, it will make all the other shit disappear.

His eyes drop down to my lips, and I hold my breath waiting for him to kiss me. He’s hesitating, and I consider grabbing his shirt and pulling him the rest of the way to me. Before I decide, it comes to an end. It’s like there’s an invisible barrier between us that he can’t cross, no matter how hard he tries.

The air around us changes. The heat and energy that had just been kicked up about ten notches cools down. I shudder, unsure if it’s the thought that I wanted this evil man to kiss me, to fill me with a false sense of hope and phony promises, or because he didn’t and I’m afraid he has no real desire to. Disappointed, I let out the breath I held.

“That didn’t come out the way I mean it. I mean you’re not worth it to them. You’re worth it to me, or else I wouldn’t be here and you’d already be holed up in a room servicing dirty old men.”

I hug my arms around myself.

Trying to comfort me, he pulls me into his arms, but only for a moment. They’re warm and strong, and I’ve never felt safer until he curses under his breath and lets me go. I watch in silence as he steps away.

“I’m doing everything I can. We just need to give it some time.”

“How is time going to make it any better?” I sound weak and broken. I hate that I’m so frightened.

“That’s where the trust comes in.” He reaches out and cradles my face in his warm, strong hands, and I wish his hands would stay on me forever. His eyes bore into mine, like they reach inside me and stroke my heart. It’s like he’s fighting some internal battle the way touches me and then breaks away. He’s just as uncertain of what to do as I am. On top of everything else, I’m frustrated because I can’t figure him out.

“Why do you care?”

His hands drop and he pulls away once more. Physically. Emotionally. He’s so far, so unreachable, I think I’ve misread everything. He turns from me. “I promised your brother I’d look out for you as best I can.”

“Dima-”

“Don’t call me that,” he snaps, eyes narrowed. I feel the anger I brought up to the surface as sure as I feel the ground beneath my feet.

“Sorry,” I say, knowing I just crossed a line and not sure what it is I did wrong.

“My name is Dimitri. I hate when they call me that.”

Confused, I nod. I offended him. That wasn’t my intention at all. And how should I know that isn’t really his name? It’s what the other two sons of bitches called him.

“Shit, Kiera. You don’t understand,” his voice, his face, both are much softer, kinder. “They call me that because they know I hate it. You’re the last person I want to hear that from.”

Okay, he’s unstable. “What should I call you?” I ask, not wanting to see his wrath if I mess up again.

“I want you to call me something else,” he says like I should know what that is.

“Is Dimitri okay?”

He bites his lip, and I see the struggle on his face shining through his eyes.

“For now. Let me get you some food.”

“Why are you so worried about my eating? Am I fat?”

I look down at my stomach. I can’t see it under my boobs. It’s flat. Sure, I’m not as thin as Masha, but I’ve never felt insecure about my weight before.

The corner of his mouth turns up into an amused smirk. “Fat?” His eyes inch up and down my body like fingers walking across my skin, fire burning bright in them, as the tip of his tongue touches his upper lip. I know he just used a secret superhero power to look at me with X-ray vision, because he had to see something more than what’s on the surface for his eyes to turn so dark and lusty.

“Far from it. Your body is…” a deep gravely sound escapes him as he shakes his head. “I think you’re gorgeous.”

Gorgeous. I shouldn’t feel happy or excited that he finds me attractive. No, not just attractive, gorgeous! In the middle of this shitstorm, I feel like I hit the jackpot. The giddy feeling inside me isn’t because someone said I was gorgeous, it’s because
he
said it. My stomach tumbles as I give him a good looking over. Sure I’m pretty, but gorgeous? He needs to look in the mirror. He is smoking hot! Every time I look at him, I’m more attracted than I was the time before.

I went from trying to break free from his arms to wanting to get wrapped up in them. He’s not touching me right now, and that means he’s too far. Everything about him calls to me, screams to me: his dark eyes and hair, those deep dimples in his cheeks, his perfectly carved body. Not to mention, no one ever cared enough to be this protective and kind to me. No one but my brother and the boy I used to hunt unicorns with when I was little.

I want to touch him, explore him. Feel the curves and cuts of muscle beneath his shirt. I shake the thoughts off. I’m losing my mind. No, to have these thoughts, I’ve already lost it. I am out-of-this-world-fucking-crazy.

He’s the enemy
, I remind myself. The unworthy-not-to-be-trusted-under-any-conditions enemy.

Only in my heart, I don’t believe it. Try as I might, I can’t convince myself to stay away from him. I feel like I know him. Like he knows me. He does know me. He’s probably been stalking me for months and here I am, the desperate damsel in distress, hoping with every fiber of my being that he will find a way to steal me away in the night and rescue me.

Chapter 6

  I don’t know how long ago Dimitri left the room. I hear him moving around and I’m tempted to follow him. Question after question swirls around my mind. So many questions, and he has plenty of answers. I might not like them, but I need to hear them.

I’m getting antsy in the small space. Between the bed and the air mattress, there isn’t much room to move around, and knowing the future I’m trying to escape, the last place I want to be is on that bed. I step to the doorway, expecting to walk into a kitchen, but it’s just another smaller, windowless room with a folding table and a college-size refrigerator. Dimitri is heating something up in the microwave that’s sitting on the table in the small rectangular area.

“Is it okay if I come in?” I ask, not sure what the answer will be.

He nods. “As long as it’s just the two of us and you promise not to try anything stupid, you are free to move around as you please.”

He doesn’t want me to try anything stupid. If my need to be near him is any indication, that warning is useless.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he smiles as the microwave timer chimes.

“I hope you’re hungry. I made this special for you. I know you like it.”

A strange chill runs up my spine.

“What is it?”

“Cherry dumplings,” he answers, doling the portion out into two bowls. “They’re not as good as usual because they’re reheated, but they’ll do.”

I watch him take a spoonful of sour cream and mix it in with the dumplings. Thinking of how unappetizing that seems, I make a face.

“What’s wrong?”

I shrug my shoulders, not wanting to sound ungrateful. “Nothing, it’s just that I never had these before, and I’m really not a big fan of sour cream. I don’t even like it on a baked potato.”

“What are you talking about?” He looks at me like I’m crazy. “Of course you like it.”

It finally occurs to me that
he’s
the crazy one. Seriously crazy. Delusionally crazy. I just have to be sure not to upset him, not to give him a reason to become violently crazy, because I don’t know what he’s capable of. He’s plenty strong, and I already know I’m no match for his arms of steel.

I watch him sprinkle something white over my helping. He doesn’t sprinkle anything over his. I don’t say anything and look down hesitantly as he hands me the bowl.

“It was only sugar,” he informs me.

“Why didn’t you put any on yours?”

“Because you like it sweeter than I do.” His eyes are playful as they meet mine. “Here, look.” He stabs his fork into one of my dumplings and eats it. “If I was trying to drug or poison you, would I have eaten it?”

He has a point. Unless he’s so far gone he convinced
himself
it’s only sugar. I follow him back into the other room and sit on the side of the bed while he settles down on the air mattress.

“Eat!” he orders as I sit staring at my food.

I take a deep breath and decide to make it look like I’m giving it a chance. If it looks like I’m making an attempt to eat it, he might be more understanding that I really don’t like it. I touch my tongue to the cream-like sauce he mixed into my bowl. With the sugar, It doesn’t taste awful. I decide to give it a chance and pop a dumpling in my mouth.

I bite into it and let the warmth and sweet flavor bombard my senses. I do like it, but there’s something more, something familiar. The taste fills my chest with longing. Smells from my childhood tickle my memory. Nothing I can make out for sure, but scents I want to smell again. Smells that bring me right back to the kitchen of my parents’ diner and the friend I’ve missed for all these years. The friend no one ever let me speak about after he left.

The bowl slips from my grasp and falls onto the bed. Luckily nothing spills out. I can’t take my eyes off the man sitting in front of me. Is this him? Could it be? Is that why I long for him while knowing I should run from him instead? It’s the only thing that would make sense. But then why wouldn’t he tell me?

“What’s wrong?”

“How did you know I’d like it?”

“Good guess,” he shrugs his shoulders and looks away.

“No. You said it like you knew for a fact that I liked it. You wouldn’t know that unless…”

“Unless what?” he asks, leaning forward. His eyes study my every move with increased intensity. It’s like he’s looking for something. But what?

I shift gears. I want this man to be the little boy that looked after me and kept me safe. I want so badly to believe there is something good in him that I’m willing to forget for moments at a time what has brought us to this place together.

“You know so much about me, it doesn’t seem fair that I know nothing about you.”

“You know everything you need to.”

“Doubt it.” I bite my lip, wondering how I could find out for sure. “If I ask questions, will you answer?”

He stiffens. Like someone just inserted a steel rod in his back. His jaw is clenched and his eyes are unreadable. An awkward silence creeps up between us. I’ve felt many confusing emotions around him – fear, longing – but this is the first time I’ve felt awkward.

“You should know,” he narrows his eyes at me and then drops them down to his food. “There are some questions you don’t want answered.”

Does he know what I’m thinking? “Like?”

“Just make sure you’re ready to hear things that might upset you before you ask the question.”

I nod. “You’re not like the others. How did you get involved with these animals?”

“I didn’t have a choice. It’s sort of the family business,” he answers matter-of-fact.

“You’re related to them?”

“In a way. Is that what you wanted to hear? That I’m just as hateful and disgusting as them?”

I don’t understand where this attitude is coming from. He has to know I have more questions, and he was so forthcoming earlier. Why does it feel like I’m treading on thin ice now?

“No. You’re not.”

“I am. I do bad shit to people that may or may not deserve it. Only unlike them, I have a conscience. A soul. They get off on hurting people. I don’t. I don’t get any pleasure in seeing people hurt. Especially not people I care about.” His eyes are locked on mine, and I have a feeling he’s telling me a lot more than those words express.

“If they’re family, can’t you say no?”

He snickers, but not like I said something funny, more like he’s annoyed I’m not understanding his point. “No. I’m trapped like a snake in a glass tank. I can coil and prepare to attack, but when I strike, all I do is throw myself against the glass. It does nothing but wear me down and has no effect on the situation.”

“Then there’s no way out for me, is there?”

He glares at me, anger flaring in his eyes. My heart slams down into my tumbling stomach, both out of fear and disappointment.

“Honestly,” he takes a deep breath, his cold, angry eyes locked on mine. “I don’t know. It’s too soon to tell.”

I can’t take the intensity of his stare. It’s weighing on me physically and I don’t understand why.

“Does that give you the reassurance you’re looking for?” Again with the attitude. His words are swathed with the same ice coating his eyes hold. I don’t understand where it came from or why.

Leaning forward with my arms wrapped around myself for comfort, I shake my head. “No. But I need to know, to be prepared.”

Nothing. No response. He won’t even look at me. I sit my half-eaten bowl of dumplings down on the night table next to the bed.

“Look, I told you to trust me and give me some time. It’s not just your ass I’m trying to save here.”

I nod even as I’m struck by a pang of jealousy. I wonder who else there is. Another girl? Many others? Someone he loves?

“Are you trying to save someone you’re in love with?”

He nods, but won’t look at me.

Tears prick my eyes, filling them with water. I won’t cry. I won’t let him see how much his admission crushed me, sucking the hope right out of my heart and lungs. I take a few deep breaths to settle myself.

“Does she love you?”

“I’m not discussing this with you.”  

“Oh.” I search my mind for something else to ask. Something safe. Anything that’s not going to further break my shattered heart. “How old are you?”

“I thought you realized asking questions isn’t going to help.”

I shrug. “I just asked your age. It’s nothing you need to get upset about.” I throw the same attitude back at him. “Besides, I need a distraction. And I’m curious. About you.”

My voice drops lower with each clarification. I’m nervous and unsure of myself. Not only because of the plans laid out for me, but because even now dark and angry and knowing there is someone in his heart, I feel something for him. Something stronger than logic or my own will. It’s something that scares me down to the marrow of my bones because it doesn’t make sense, and I don’t know if I can fight it. Either way, I do know it’s something I can’t tamp down and pretend doesn’t exist.

“Don’t be.” He gets to his feet and goes into the other room.

I think about staying where I am, but I can’t. I need to go to him, be near him. It’s the only way I can keep my head on straight, keep my frayed nerves from trembling.

“Why are you acting like this? Ten minutes ago, it seemed like you cared about what might happen to me, and now you’re being an obnoxious ass. It’s almost like you’re trying to push me away.”

“Maybe I am.” Again, his loud voice booms in the cramped space. My heart shudders.

“Why? Do you feel guilty about that moment we shared before? She’ll never know about it.”

“Know what? That I want you? That I’m borderline obsessed with you? She already knows. And you know what, Kiera? I’m not the only one. Ivan, he’s obsessed with you, too. Has been for years. And now so is Yuri.” I shrink back, afraid of the implications. “We all fantasize about you. We all want to see something in your eyes when you look at us. They want to see fear and desperation.”

I swallow hard, stunned that I’m still pursuing this with him. “What about you?”

“Me? I want to see tenderness. A tenderness only a heart as sweet and pure as yours can hold. I want to see a lusty fire burn in them every time you look at me. And most of all, I want them to tell me the secrets you keep buried and hidden in your heart.”

My breath hitches. His sweet words spear into my heart and branch out to the ends of my fingers and the tips of my toes. My stomach flutters, like a bird drunk on love. I need to touch him. I should be in his arms after that declaration, but he isn’t reaching out for me, and I don’t understand why not.

“I should be terrified of you,” I whisper as if it’s a fact I just stumbled upon.

He looks down and then meets my eyes, once again, jaw clenched, eyes cold.

“Yes. You should.”

“But I’m not. At all. I’m not sure why, but I’m drawn to you. I’m just wondering why you’re fighting what you feel for me so hard.”

“Maybe I know that no matter how much I might want to take you in my arms and kiss away your fears, it’s not going to make anything better.”

“Right. Because of your girlfriend.” Shit. I look away. Here I am practically begging him to put his feelings for her aside and act on the ones he has for me. When did I lose my moral compass?

He shakes his head. “I love her, but she’s not my girlfriend. I have no claim on her, nor does she have one on me.”

I nod, relieved. Happy, because this beautiful prince of darkness is meant to be mine, and I his. It’s one of those things you know in your gut, and your heart seconds it with every beat. There’s no fighting, no denying it. Neither will work. At this moment, I don’t want to question or analyze the crazy thoughts and feelings I have. All I know is the unyielding need to touch him. I’ll hurt forever if I don’t. I close in on him and reach my hand to his chest.

The simple touch races through every fiber of my body. From my head to my toes, to the extra hard pounding of my heart and the pulsing between my legs.  

“What if I want you to hold me and kiss away my fears? Would you?”

His eyes are locked on mine as his tongue darts out and licks his top lip. He’s considering it, and I only hope his imagination is as salacious and wild as mine. That look in his dark, hooded eyes tells me that it is.

Sizzle. Crack. Sizzle.

Electric sparks jump and burn between us. He takes a tiny step forward, inching closer, but he’s still too far, and his hands still aren’t taking their fill of me. I want those hands running over my body, but I don’t know how to get them to do it.

I bite my lip, anticipation getting the best of me. I’ve never wanted someone so bad in my life. I never wanted anyone else, period. The sum of my experience adds up to a few careless kisses here and there that meant nothing and did nothing to make me want more.

I don’t want careless kisses anymore. My body is filled with the type of desire you see in movies or read about in books. It pulls on my muscles and wakens my cells. It’s filled with need and longing so strong and palpable, it’s all I can think about. It’s like I’ve been waiting my whole life for this very man. For this very moment. I was physically broken before him, unable to respond to anyone else, because I was made for the sensual stranger standing before me.