Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 69662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
I couldn’t talk Kostya out of killing him, not that I’d try. Because the horrors that the man I loved had endured could not be forgiven, not ever.
But maybe the promise of a future with me would make Kostya see that death and revenge weren’t the only things in life.
Maybe we could move forward.
Once I was done using the bathroom, I headed out into the kitchen for a glass of water. I stood by the sink and stared out the window; the security lights beamed at the thick line of trees that surrounded the house. It wasn’t lost on me that I could probably escape right now, at least get a head start before he undoubtedly caught me. But the desire to leave just… wasn’t there.
I was insane. Had lost my mind because leaving was the last thing I wanted.
I drank deeply and thought about how everything was going to play out.
Tomorrow I’d talk to Kostya about leaving. I had to go home. I had a life to live. But that didn’t mean I didn’t want him in my life. We’d just found each other again.
I didn’t want to lose him.
Maybe it was fucked up of me to want anything to do with Kostya after what he’d done, how he drugged me and kidnapped me… killed in front of me. Maybe I was suffering from some kind of insane Stockholm Syndrome.
I certainly wasn’t relating to him, but I did empathize with how he had to change to survive. He had to harden, become someone totally different so the world and the people around him didn’t destroy every single part of him.
After setting the glass down, I turned to face the living room, seeing his large black duffel sitting beside the wall.
I didn’t know why I started walking toward it, why I thought it was smart to crouch down and open it, and certainly didn’t think it was a good idea to look inside and see all the various weapons.
I’d never seen so many in my life. I ran my fingers over the cold metal, then my fingers skated over a burner phone. I sat down on the floor and pulled my knees up to my chest as I lifted my hand and touched my throat.
I felt the thin metal chain and the small locket attached to it and curled my fingers around it, knowing that I had to cut my father out of my life. I couldn’t look at him without remembering all the heinous shit Kostya told me.
I sat there for several more minutes before I finally pushed myself up and walked back to the room.
I slipped in bed beside Kostya, the heat of his body and the scent of his skin causing me to close my eyes, inhale deeply, and allow myself this moment of peace before the shit hit the fan.
Chapter
Twenty-Three
Ruin
In the last decade I’d never slept so soundly, never felt so peaceful. I could have been a dick and said it was because I’d gotten laid, but that would be a big fucking lie.
It was because for the first time in my life, I finally felt a semblance of peace, like I wasn’t living in my own personal hell.
Knowing she was safe right beside me, that all I had to do was reach over and spear my hands in her hair, pull her in close, and kiss her if I wanted to, was a high like I’d never experienced.
It was as if something from my past had opened up, a little bit of that humanity I thought forever gone sliding back into place because I had my girl back in my arms.
I felt myself… smile. Yeah, I was fucking smiling as I felt her body heat wrap around me.
Toska. That was what I’d felt all these long years. Yearning. An ache for nothing and everything all at once. I looked at my girl. “My heart yearned and broke for you.” I kept my voice pitched too low for her to hear, but the words were the truth nonetheless.
But I’d been lying awake for the past hour, listening to the steady rise and fall of her breathing, watching her chest move as she took a deep breath in, then let it out slowly.
She looked peaceful, her skin luminescent, the dark crescent shape of her lashes long as they rested high against her cheekbones.
I reached out and let the pad of my thumb brush her jawline, then moved it along her bottom lip. I cupped the side of her face fully. She felt so soft, so warm.
She felt like mine.
I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling.
Although I never slept for more than a couple of hours at a time, and even though I couldn’t fall back asleep, I still felt at ease, my muscles relaxed, my bones settled.