Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 108342 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108342 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
“What was your mother’s reaction to this next level of abuse towards her son, by his father?”
“That was the final straw for her. She kicked my father out of the house. We had to take Dmitriy to the hospital. The story we were to tell was that he’d gotten into a fight. We were minors. My mother feared that we’d all be taken away from her, so, she asked us to not tell the truth. My mother didn’t let Dad come back after that night until he agreed to stop drinking. And he did.”
“He just stopped cold turkey?”
“Yeah. She said she was filing for divorce if he continued, talked to an attorney and everything. He begged her for forgiveness, and for another chance after she said that she would leave him for good if he kept hurting Dmitriy. He blamed it on his drinking. Stress. Grief. He did as she asked. We never saw him drink again. He never hit Dmitriy again. In fact, I believe he also kicked his pain killer addiction. He still didn’t like Dmitriy, though. He just wasn’t abusive to him anymore. Said he was wicked… He drinks now though. In fact, right after she died, that same week, he began drinking again. Regardless, the damage was done. Between nurture and nature, somewhere in that strange, obscure vapor, that was how my little brother Dmitriy, the monster, came to be…”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Nikolai stared at the Captain. He despised him. Hated his face and every one of his limbs. He hated his blood and his bones. His aurora stunk. His spirit was confused and rancid. Captain White had done nothing. And therein lay the problem.
Now, here he was, sitting next to his lover—an honor he should not have been afforded. No one could touch Porsche’s skills, and the mere fact that the man was able to sit there and absorb all of the benefits of her hard work irked him to no end.
“Nikolai?”
“Hmm?” He turned back to Porsche, her voice breaking his thoughts in half.
“You were getting ready to talk about your attorney.”
“Yeah. I kinda zoned out for a bit, honey. Excuse me.” He sighed and shook his head. “Well, suffice it to say, he advised against this last-minute, impromptu discussion, but after Captain White and the staff in here informed me that you wanted to speak to me, after reading this,” he looked down at the book that sat in the middle of the table like some centerpiece, “I believed that now, you were actually ready to talk about this in a way that would make sense, ya know? You had the full story. Speaking to you beforehand would have only caused more confusion and hurt.”
“I first want to say that Dmitriy is expected to make a full recovery from the attack he sustained. He is alert and conscious. However, he is refusing to speak at this time.”
Nikolai studied his cuticles and started picking at them. They were dry and rough.
“How do you feel about that?”
“Feel about what?”
She gave him a loaded look. “You know what. How do you feel about Dmitriy still being alive, even after your brutal attack on him?”
“If I wanted him dead, he’d be dead. It’s not like he was a moving target.”
Porsche stiffened, broke their gaze, and switched the direction in which her legs were crossed. “I know your attorney forbade you to do this interview.”
“Yup.”
“But since you’re talking, I have some questions for you.”
“Naturally.” He cleared his throat then looked over his shoulder. “A, Paul!”
“Yeah?” The correctional officer looked up from his phone.
“Can we have some bottled waters, please?”
“Yeah.” The officer got up from his chair, unlocked and opened the door, and began speaking to the officer on the other side of it. Moments later, the door watcher was gone, and Paul was parked back in his chair.
“Can I record this conversation?”
He nodded.
“I need a verbal yes or no, Nikolai.”
“Yes.”
He waited as she pulled out her phone and prepared it to record him. Meanwhile, he drew circles against the table with his fingertip. Little whirls and swirls. A heart or two…
“Porsche, you know you can have anything you want from me. Now, you can even have the truth. I’d set the world on fire for you, then use my own blood to put out the flame if you commanded me to.”
When he said those words, he couldn’t help but notice that for a split second, creases appeared between her brows, and her lips slightly parted. He’d studied her during their beautiful time together, and knew just about every facial expression and what it meant like the back of his tattooed hand. This particular expression only showed up when she was moved. Touched. Her emotions were raw and she was pouring with love.
It also happened when she was having an earth-shattering orgasm. The kind he drew out from her body when he’d kiss and touch every smooth, maple curve of her, leaving not one inch of her form unknown to his worship. He only felt complete when she was beneath him. On top of him. On her side receiving him… Though he wished he was making her fall apart between sweat- and cum-soaked sheets right at that moment, he settled for that flash of a second when her heart betrayed her, and forced her eyes to shine the truth like a beacon of light from a lighthouse.