Page 9

9

ERIK

I can’t get her out of my head.

It’s going to be the end of me.

Every time I close my eyes, I’m struck with the vision of her standing over that body, drenched in blood and smiling at me like she’s happy to see me.

The taste of her lips lingers against my own days later as I try once again to scrub the memory of her off my body.

She was clear.

It will never happen again.

But it’s all I can think about.

The scent of her floral, peachy perfume rising from her skin as I kissed her neck and nuzzled beneath her ear.

The silky softness of her hair between my fingers as I held her down.

The warmth of her skin against my chest and palms.

The tightness of her pussy around my cock and the heat of her wetness against my thighs.

It consumes me.

If I close my eyes and let my mind drift, I’m still with her in the warehouse fucking her as hard as I can just to hear every single moan and gasp from her lips.

I want her.

And I can’t have her.

It was a moment of weakness, and in the heat of things, I understand why it happened, but logic doesn’t calm the flutter of my heart each time she looks at me.

It’s like a spotlight has appeared over her, and she has consumed me, body and mind.

Even the threat of Viktor isn’t enough to calm my desire for her.

It simmers quietly underneath my skin, and no amount of scrubbing can remove it.

Water pours down around me, sending cascades of soap suds off my body as I take my cock in hand and stroke myself once again to the thought of Anastasia.

I replay the softness of her lips against mine and her sharp teeth sinking into my tongue.

She clawed at my skin, and while those wounds have healed, I still feel them as if she clawed right down to the bone.

My hand is a poor substitute for her silken heat, but I make do, stroking myself faster and faster as I lose myself in that memory.

A burst of shame prickles my shoulders when I come against the tiles and reality returns in the form of lukewarm water and the sting of soap in the air.

I breathe deeply and study the swirling pattern before me while the last tingles of pleasure fade from my body.

I’m left, as always, with an emptiness that I can’t fill.

She will never be mine.

I shower off, and I’m in the middle of drying myself when an alert springs up on my phone from Ryan.

Red Alert .

With my heart in my mouth, I’m barely able to dress myself before concern drags me from my room and I sprint full speed through the manor, not stopping until I’m at the entranceway.

Ryan stands with his hand on his rifle, and a look of relief sweeps across his face when he greets me.

“Thank God you're here.”

“What is it?” I gasp, panting heavily. “What’s the emergency?”

“Take a look for yourself.” He jerks his head toward the guard box next to the gate.

With my chest heaving and my heart hammering, I peer through the glass expecting to see something along the lines of the threats Anastasia has been facing these past weeks, so nothing prepares me for seeing Anastasia herself grumpily pacing about inside.

“What the fuck?”

“Right?” Ryan snorts.

“No, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Spinning to face him, I slap him hard on the back of his head when he tries to duck away.

“What the hell?”

“You texted me that it’s a red alert emergency so I sprinted all the way here, you fuck. My hair’s still fucking wet!”

“This is an emergency!”

Grabbing him by the collar, I shake Ryan so violently that his rifle slips from his hands. “A red alert is someone rolling up with a bomb strapped to their chest,” I snarl. “Not the boss!”

“Well shit, you told me to let you know if she was ever trying to leave without you.”

“Yeah, but this isn’t a— Fucking hell, never mind. Get out of here.”

Ryan jerks out of my grip and shrugs himself away, striding back up the path with a quiet mutter of “Asshole.”

Rolling my eyes, I open the door and head inside. Anastasia flies at me immediately, but she hesitates when she sees me instead of Ryan.

“Oh.” She sighs. “I was about to give that guy a piece of my mind. What kind of men are you training that I get manhandled in here for trying to leave my own home?”

Kicking the door closed behind me, I snort softly in amusement. “Well for one, you shouldn’t be trying to leave without me.”

“I left you a note.”

“Anastasia, you can’t be serious.”

“What?” She throws one hand out toward the window. “I had other members of your team in the car. What’s the problem?”

“You were the one who chose me, remember?” I lift one brow. “You don’t go anywhere without me.”

“Bit obsessive,” she mutters.

“If it keeps you alive, I don’t care. Don’t you understand? I’m not leaving your side even for a second, okay? The risk is too high. It’s for your own safety.”

“Look, fine, okay? I have to be somewhere and you didn’t pick up, so I figured a note would be fine and you could join me later.” She sighs, dragging a hand through her hair and causing the strands to ripple across her shoulders. “Why is your hair wet?”

“I was showering and then… It doesn’t matter. It’s so late.” I glance down at my watch. “We have no meeting scheduled for tonight. What’s the rush?”

Anastasia’s gaze falls away and she takes a step back. “It doesn’t matter. Look, can I go?”

“Not without me.”

“I don’t have time for this. Fine. Can we please go?”

“Not until you tell me where you’re going.”

“You could have told me we were going to the hospital.”

Anastasia glances across at me as the elevator sweeps upward. “I didn’t know I could trust you.”

“Excuse me?” My gut tightens immediately.

“I only told a handful of our people about my construction plans and that bastard still found me. So someone is talking. I don’t know who I can trust.”

“You think it’s me?” Despite the flames that burn inside me for her, a sudden coldness spreads through my chest. I haven’t forgotten my orders from Viktor, but if I don’t stay close to her, I will lose all chance of learning the truth. And at this rate, the more I learn, the more I’m certain I’ll have to prove her innocence.

“It could be anyone,” she mutters, turning her attention to the gold numbers highlighting each floor above us. “Besides, this is personal.”

Confusion knots my gut for the rest of the ride.

When the doors open, Anastasia leads the way out. I follow her down the corridor, trying to ignore how the antiseptic stink of this place drags me right back to my days as a child waiting to hear if my mother made it through surgery. That sensation of impending doom haunts me to this day. She eventually stops at one room and slips inside, turning into a shadow in the dull light.

A woman with black hair stands near the window, dressed in a paper gown with her thin arms wrapped around her body.

“Tanya?” Anastasia speaks with more softness than I’ve ever heard coming from her, and my stomach knots tighter.

The woman glances over her shoulder. Her tired look immediately hardens into hate when she locks eyes with Anastasia. “The fuck are you doing here?”

“I got a call that you’d been admitted. What happened?”

“The fuck you think happened?” She spins to face Anastasia, and venom drips from her tone. “Are you surprised? Do I disappoint you, huh? Are you here to fucking judge me?”

“No,” Anastasia replies, her voice still soft. “I’m here to help you. You know that.”

“Why can’t you just fucking leave me alone? Haven’t you done enough? I don’t want you here. I don’t want anything to do with you! Can’t you get that through your thick fucking skull?”

The hairs on the back of my neck bristle. No one in their right mind should be speaking to Anastasia that way. People have died for much less when it comes to disrespecting the Pakhan —or Godmother, in this case—but Anastasia doesn’t seem angry. Her face saddens and she remains where she is as Tanya stomps back to the bed.

“I want what’s best for you,” Anastasia says. “No matter how long it takes.”

“You just want to clear your guilty fucking conscience,” Tanya snarls. “I know all about you. I’m glad your scumbag of a father is dead, but if you expect me to be grateful that you saved me, you can get fucked. You’re just as twisted as he is. You think you can make yourself feel better by fawning over the slaves you rescued? Well let me tell you, every single one of us is praying for your death!”

There’s a subtle shift of tension along Anastasia’s shoulders. “They told me you overdosed,” she says, her voice free from any hint of her feelings. “I thought you got clean?”

“Maybe I prefer the world through the drug lens,” Tanya mutters, slumping back against the pillows. “What is it to you? Come to get your money back?”

“That’s not it at all,” Anastasia says. “I know you’re hurt and angry?—”

“You have no fucking clue, you cunt. I was fifteen when I was snatched from one of your clubs. They drugged me, and I’ve fucked more men than I can even count, so yeah, I’m fucking angry. I was sold like a piece of stinking meat. By you! So what if the drugs help? Huh?”

I want to correct her about Anastasia’s involvement, but it won’t do any good. Tanya is hurting and she needs someone to blame, a face to her trauma. I can see that clearly.

“Then let me get you drugs. Something safe that will help you. I told you I would do everything I could to help you, and I mean it.”

“Gonna pay my hospital bills, huh? And my therapy? And the pills to help me sleep, huh?” She yells louder and louder as Anastasia walks closer. “You ruined my life! You destroyed me and countless people like me! I hate you, you hear me? I hate you so much I’d add fuel to the fire if I saw you burning in the middle of the street! I don’t want this life and I don’t want anything from you!”

Tears stream down Tanya’s face by the time Anastasia stops in front of her. The situation is impossible, and I can’t decipher what she plans to do. Then Anastasia lifts her arms and pulls Tanya into a tight hug. Tanya fights it for a few seconds, then she completely breaks down and sobs loudly in Anastasia’s hug.

My heart breaks.

I had no idea Anastasia was going to such lengths to help the people she rescued. Visiting them personally, keeping tabs on every single one to make sure they get a good shot at life, and being there for them when they stumble. I recognize Tanya now as one of the women we rescued last month before the parking lot explosion. She’s almost unrecognizable now that she’s healthier.

To an extent.

I stand like a statue as Tanya sobs her heart out and Anastasia comforts her until she falls asleep. With Tanya resting against her, Anastasia refuses to move, but she finally looks at me. There’s such sadness hidden in her eyes that I want to reach out and soothe her, but it doesn’t come.

It can’t.

I need to keep my distance.

“Erik?”

And yet my heart still leaps when she says my name.

“I need you to call someone for me.”

“Anyone.”

“Cormac Gifford. The Irish Captain.” She looks back down at Tanya. “I need his help.”