Page 16

His fingers are digging sharply into the back of my neck. It’s painful and even though I cry out he ignores me. His anger is making him believe impossible things. I didn’t have anything to do with this. How can he think that? How can he even logically believe it—I’ve been locked up.

He is holding my face inches from the dead man’s. Those cold, empty eyes are staring back at me—the way his cheek is torn open, blood and tissue oozing out of it—my stomach is churning with fear, and disgust, and horror that someone did this to him. Just an hour ago this man was alive . Talking. Breathing. Maybe laughing. Moving around and going about his day and he had no idea that his life was about to end.

Tears flood down my face, splashing onto his dead skin. I want to vomit. The stench of drying blood, rich iron and death are overwhelming me.

In a surge of panic, I yank myself out of Avraam’s tight grip. Pulling away from him hurts. It leaves scratches on my neck and I can already feel I will be bruised.

I land hard on my ass, luckily falling away from the dead men.

Immediately, I start scooting even further away.

Panic, shock and fear are all I can feel right now.

I reach up and gingerly touch my neck, wincing at how tender it is.

I don’t understand why Avraam thinks this was me. Why he thinks I would do something like this.

“Avraam—“ I say, but no sound comes from my lips. I swallow hard and lick my lips. Then I close my eyes for a moment to try and pull myself together.

“Avraam,” I try again and a whisper draws his attention to me. “Please, believe me,” I beg him. But the hate in his eyes is too real. It burns into me.

He is in pain over the death of his men and right now he is not seeing straight. He is not thinking clearly at all. When he looks at me I don’t think he even sees me.

Now is not the time to try and talk to him.

I press my lips together, forcing myself not to carry on, begging him to hear me.

I drag myself to my feet. Keeping a distance from him because I don’t know what he wants to do with me. The way he handled me a moment ago was terrifying and I’d rather not go through that again.

I can see his heart is breaking. The agony that is ripping through his mind and body are painful to watch. Avraam really cares about the people who work for him and even though he is blaming me for this—he looks like he is also blaming himself.

He walks over to Dex and talks quietly to him. Dex nods, glancing at me.

Then Avraam strides towards me. I flinch and stand tense, waiting for something but unsure what to expect.

He grabs my arm and starts walking out of the warehouse back towards the car. I stumble and almost fall, but he doesn’t stop, he just keeps pulling me along.

Yanking the door open, he shoves me into the passenger seat of his car and his dark eyes shoot daggers at me before he slams the door shut.

I flinch again as the car rocks from the force of it.

I squeeze my legs together, tucking my elbows tight against my sides, trying to take up as little space as possible. I am so scared of him right now—and this uncontrolled anger.

Avraam climbs in and starts the engine, revving, then the wheels are spinning on gravel and sending a shower of small rocks flying out from behind us.

I bite my lip.

I want to talk to him. I want him to know I had nothing to do with this. I wouldn’t have betrayed him like that—especially not after—after what we just shared.

My heart is in the pit of my stomach. How can he think that I would give up my virginity just as a tool to distract him so that my brothers could kill people? It’s so dark and twisted.

We drive through town in heavy, electrified silence. One spark could set him off and ignite the air between is. I feel like I’m in danger, but I keep trying to reassure myself that he would never hurt me.

But he did hurt me earlier in the warehouse.

I can’t just leave this.

I have to try and make him see the truth.

“Avraam—it couldn’t have been me. How could I plan something like that or be involved in any way when you have me under guard twenty-four hours of the day?”

He stares dead ahead, watching the road, not saying a word.

“I don’t even talk to anyone—the only person I see is you—,“ I try again, but his silence is even heavier than before. The pain of it cuts into me and breaks my heart.

How can he be so cold towards me after we just made love? After he was so gentle and tender. I don’t understand it.

I stare at the silhouette of his profile against the evening sky. His brows are knotted tightly, and his jaw muscles are feathering back and forth. He is too upset. What he just saw in that warehouse has caused him a lot of pain.

I need to give him time.

Even though his accusations have hurt me deeply—I have to try and understand what he is going through too. I have to be the bigger person.

I force myself to relax and sit quietly.

The rest of the drive is silent.

I watch the city drift by out of window and even though I try not to cry, it’s impossible.

Avraam doesn’t notice, though. He doesn’t look in my direction even once.

I can feel the hatred oozing from him—hatred towards me. Because he thinks I did this.

I will be patient and hopefully once he has had a chance to calm down, he will at least listen to me. To reason.

For now—there is nothing I can do.

He parks the car in front of the house and climbs out, walking up the stairs without glancing back towards me.

I push the passenger door open and follow him inside.

Nervous fear spikes through me because I don’t know if he is angry enough to hurt me. Does he want revenge for what he thinks I did?

He walks upstairs so I stay downstairs, sitting in the living room, deciding it's best to give him some space for now.

A few hours go by. I’m still alone in the living room. I can’t stay here all night.

Every time I close my eyes, I can see that dead man’s face and it makes me want to cry all over again.

Avraam has not come downstairs at all.

I need something to do so I walk to the kitchen and start looking around for something to make us for dinner.

Even if he doesn’t want to talk, at least he will get a good meal, maybe some sleep—and we can talk in the morning.

I busy myself making tagliatelle with mushroom and creamy garlic sauce. I add little bacon bits and a touch of chili.

When it’s done, I dish up a plate of food for each of us.

But I’m so nervous to go and find him.

I’m also really angry. And really hurt.

But I can’t let my anger control me.

Yes —he isn’t being fair and the way he forced me to look at that man—it was horrible. But if we start holding grudges, we aren’t going to get anywhere. We will never be able to resolve this.

Once I get him to see the truth—that I had nothing to do with this—then it will ease the hurt. So, right now, I have to swallow my pride and just do my best to sort this out.

I pick up his plate of food. I know he’s in his office upstairs.

I decide to leave my food down here and just deliver his food to him and use it as an excuse to talk to him.

Climbing the stairs, a new fear strikes through me.

What if it was my brothers who did this?

Are they really capable of that?

Would they really go that far—just senselessly killing people as an act of revenge? It doesn’t make sense and it’s not the way I’ve ever seen them behave before. Even if they were angry that I was taken, they would attack the man who took me—if they knew who it was—they wouldn’t just randomly kill for no reason.

I bite my lip, worried and anxious, as I climb the final steps and walk towards his office.

At the door, I knock lightly. It's open and Avraam looks up at me from the paperwork in front of him.

His face immediately turns dark and full of anger.

I see hate in his eyes.

I swallow hard.

“I made you some food. I think—you should eat something. It’s been a long day.”

I step cautiously into the office, putting the plate onto his desk.

Then, I step back and try to find the courage to talk to him again.

My hands are fidgeting and twisting in front of my body.

He is still glaring at me with his arms folded across his broad chest.

His shirt sleeves are rolled up over his forearms and the muscles flex as he moves, rippling under his skin.

“Avraam, I couldn’t have been involved in that attack. I just wanted to talk to you about it because I can see how upset you are and—“

“Upset? Oh, darling, I’m not upset. I’m livid. I’m furious. I’m about to tear your entire world apart.”

He stands up, leaning his knuckles into the desk, his massive shoulders bulked out and everything about the way he is looking at me is a menacing warning.

“I didn’t do this,” I say with exasperation. Desperation to make him understand is gripping me deeper by the second.

He pulls his mouth tight, rolling his jaw and glaring at me.

His eyes fall onto the food and he starts laughing—but its dark and unkind.

Picking up the plate he stares at the food.

“How stupid do you think I am?” he asks.

“What?” I stammer in confusion.

He flings the plate over my head, smashing it against the office wall. Food drips down the clean white surface, onto the floor.

I am ducked low, shaking, shocked at his outburst.

“You want to poison me? Girl, I won’t make it that easy,” he hisses.

I stand up slowly, salty tears streaking my cheeks as I glare at him with rage.

I tried.

I really tried to ease the tension between us and to have a decent conversation.

He has lost his fucking mind and I refuse to let him treat me like this.

I lift my chin, filled with defiance.

Inside my heart is shattering into a thousand shards of glittering glass.

He has no idea how much he is hurting me right now. But clearly—he doesn’t care.

With one last heavy huff of frustration, I turn my back on him and walk out of his office. He can deal with the mess he’s made because I’m certainly not going to fucking clean that up.

I go downstairs, pick up my own plate of food and carry it up to my bedroom. Not his.

My bedroom. The one I originally stayed in. The prison in which I was chained to the bed.

I’d rather be in here, alone and scared, than share the bed with him again.

This afternoon, in what I thought was a beautiful and intimate moment—I gave him my body. I gave him my virginity .

But now, tonight, I can’t even look at him anymore.

I close the bedroom door and after putting the plate of food on the bedside table I flop down into the layers of blankets.

The moment my face hits the soft fabric, I start crying.

Tears flow and flow and it feels like they will never stop.

I cry until every ounce of energy is drained from me and I am completely numb.

Being numb makes things easier.

I’m too tired to care. I’m too tired to cry anymore and I’m even too tired to be angry.

Dragging myself up against the headboard, I sit for a moment, staring blankly at nothing.

Then I pick up my cold plate of food and slowly eat it, fork full by fork full, not caring that it could use a little salt or be heated up—I just know I need the energy for my body.

I have no idea what tomorrow is going to bring, and I want to be ready for it.

Avraam might decide to get rid of me. He might decide to make some kind of example of me. All I know for sure is that I am done with him.

He is a complete asshole and doesn’t deserve me. He doesn’t deserve what I gave him today.

The thought causes a lump at the back of my throat and I can’t eat anymore. It turns out that I do still have more tears left.

I can’t believe I gave him my virginity.

I am such a fool.