Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 85224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
This man is no different. He is graceful in his movements as he shifts in his seat and stares out the window. He is cool and collected, like he has a force field around him that nobody can penetrate. He is still as well dressed as I remember, and he is clean, which is more than I can say for Arman, who bathed only when it suited him. But I would rather deal with Arman over this man. At least Arman doesn’t hide his true nature beneath nice clothes and a fake exterior.
“My name is Alexei,” his voice fills the tiny space when he turns and catches me staring.
I don’t reply. But still, he persists.
“Now it is customary for you to tell me your name,” he states.
I don’t have a name. I am nothing. No one. If I ever was, I do not know her anymore. So I remain quiet. Safe in my fugue. He cannot take that from me. He will not.
He frowns, and silence returns to the car. With it, my anxiety. I cannot read him. He’s trying to get inside of my head. Trying to hurl every weapon at his disposal into my already tattered armor. When he is near, the feelings come back. The things I told myself I would never feel again.
I need to get away. I need to fly away. By any means possible.
The driver turns the car off the highway and onto a gravel road, slowing his speed. My sluggish heart is pumping too hard. Too loud. I glance back at Alexei, and all of the uncertainty I feel about him fuels my fear. I make a split second decision before I can give it any more thought.
I fling open my door and thrust my torso out of the car with every ounce of strength I can muster. But it isn’t enough. Something strong catches my leg and the vehicle screeches to a halt. The momentum sends the door crunching into my ribs, choking all the air from my lungs. I try to kick and scream, but my body is frozen in white hot pain.
I’m being pulled back into the car, my gaze colliding with the most volatile of blue. He is cursing in Russian, shaking me as he stares at me with wild eyes. When I don’t respond, he changes to English.
“What are you thinking?” He clutches me tighter beneath his grip. “You would rather kill yourself than come home with me? Do you really think I’m worse than Arman?”
The way he says it makes it sound personal, but I don’t know why. I don’t know what to say, so I just continue to stare at him in silence. There isn’t an explanation I could give that he would ever understand. There are no words to convey that the very life essence has been siphoned out of me and the wreckage in his arms is all that’s left.
I was supposed to die in that bathtub twelve years ago. And I did. Only my body came back to life. What remains now is merely an apparition.
“Answer me!” Alexei shakes me again, and I flop around in his arms like a limp noodle.
His eyes betray his disgust with me. His resentment. I have seen those same things many times in Arman and it did not bother me. But on this face and this man, they bother me.
“Why couldn’t you just let me go?” I yell back. “You took my pills from me! You took everything from me.”
He stares at me in disbelief. And in a single moment, all of the humanity dissolves from his face. He yanks my body across the seat, pinning me belly down in his lap. His hand collides against the cheek of my ass, hard.
I don’t make a sound. Or even flinch. Because his spankings are nothing compared to Arman’s fists. This only angers him further. He rains down a series of hard slaps, grunting each time he does. It’s the man in the driver’s seat who captures his attention when he turns around and taps him on the shoulder.
“Lyoshka.”
Alexei freezes, his hand still on my ass. I’m staring at the door handle, still mourning the loss of my attempt. And then he yanks me upright, into his lap. His eyes meet mine, and his hand comes up to my face. Gentle. So very gentle. There’s remorse in his gaze. But I don’t know why. He didn’t hurt me. He could never hurt me. Nothing can anymore.
When he recognizes that in my expression, the anger returns. His fingers grip my face and his breath is hot against my lips when he speaks.
“Do not ever try that again, Solnyshko. I am not a man you want to test, and you will not like what happens next.”
He pushes me back to my seat and buckles me in before locking the doors with the controls. And, just like that, we’re off again. For the briefest of moments, something passes between him and the driver in the rearview mirror. Some unspoken thought.