Chapter 74: Chapter Nineteen

Andrei

I could feel her trembling next to me even though I wasn’t touching her. I had to show her what her choices were, and yet, I still didn’t give her the third option.

Death at the point of Chase’s gun.

We made it back to my apartment quickly.

I shut the door.

I locked it.

A God who never listened when I begged for my own death, for solace every birthday.

We were a pair of souls that were never heard, lost, forgotten.

More in common than not.

As much as she would hate to know that.

“There is one more option…” I walked up to her and rested a gloved hand on her right shoulder slowly turning her body toward mine. “One that I haven’t given you.”

“What?” Her voice was hollow, her eyes dead as she stared down at the floor. That’s when I knew: her brother hadn’t stolen all of her hope.

In order to save a life she seemed to not even want.

“Ask me,” I whispered, my body straining to do something other than rest a fucking leather glove against her skin.

Like kiss her.

Tell her the words no one ever told me.

“It’s going to be okay.”

“It has to be.”

Because that would be a lie.

And I couldn’t do that to her.

Just as much as I couldn’t live with the lie on my lips, released into the universe manifesting itself, twisting around us in its dark ugliness.

A tear slid down her cheek.

I caught it with my finger and cupped her face. “Ask me.”

“If I die, he wins, and I can’t let him win.

“You gave me his tongue after all… I’ll see it through.” She swayed toward me, I caught her with both hands and held her there, afraid of what would happen if I was pressed against her again, if I had to smell her, if I tasted her.

And I wasn’t, was I?

I had a sex club where men killed women for pleasure.

And even though I saved who I could.

I fully damned the rest.

I was that man.

I wasn’t a savior.

I was the monster she believed I was, and it would be cruel to make her think otherwise.

“And after you see this through, dorogaya?”

“What does that mean?” she snapped. “Whore in Russian?”

I would take that to my grave.

My very early grave.

Because a part of me, the part that still craved… something, couldn’t call her six thirty-two all the time.

And wrong, so wrong that I would do anything to protect her from what it meant… when a man like myself said a name out loud.

She finally lifted her head, glaring at me. Her anger was back. Good. It would help her survive. “Are you calling me a whore again?”

“That depends, are you spreading your legs for me?” I gripped one of her thighs with my hands.

Her eyes searched mine. “I can’t.”

“Can’t what?”

“Enjoy anything…” She gulped as her cheeks flushed. “That way.”

My nostrils flared as I leaned in and whispered, “He should die for that.”

“According to you, he will.”

I leaned back. “I’m not calling you a whore. It’s a term of endearment.”

Her eyes widened. “What sort of—”

I covered her mouth with my hand. “Your questions are exhausting. You,” I said pointedly. “Even more so.”

The fierceness of her gaze would feed me for days, the way she stiffened beneath my touch, ready to bite my fingers off.

Her fight.

It was her fight, wasn’t it?

That and the way she lay on her bed like a fucking queen taking court, waiting for her loyal subjects to serve her.

She was magnificent, and she didn’t even know it.

Better that way.

Better that she couldn’t reach pleasure from a man.

Because I wasn’t a man capable of giving her that.

“Tomorrow,” she said in a quieter voice. “Are you just going to keep me locked up in here indefinitely? Now that I know I don’t spread my legs for the great Andrei Petrov?”

I hated my last name.

Hated the memories it conjured up.

Men addressed my father by Petrov.

They addressed me by Andrei.

Putting the two together put me in a completely shitty mood, and I was already all the way there.

“Do whatever the hell you want, just stop asking so many questions. My trigger finger’s been feeling… aggressive.” I smirked.

She scowled and looked down.

I wanted more than anything for the fire to be directed at me, not our shoes, but I was all out of demands to give and I knew if I kept engaging her, she’d never stop, and I needed sleep.

With a sigh, I stepped away and walked down the hall to my private room. I heard footsteps stomping after me around one second later.

I made it as far as my door before I leaned against it and uttered, “What the hell could you possibly want?”

“A job.”

I stared at the wood paneling and wondered if I’d ever been stunned into silence like that in my entire life.

And then I stared some more as I looked over my shoulder at the fire in her eyes. “A job?”

“I can’t just sit around, that’s what my brother and father did, they locked me, they—” Tears filled her eyes.

“I’m not stupid, if I’m not your whore that means that I’m something, that means I’m either already dead or you’re keeping me hidden to use me later, I get that, but until later happens, until I breathe my last breath, I’d like to do… something, anything!

I smirked at that. “What? You don’t like cleaning dishes?”

“Your dishes are spotless, and you know it.”

“I like order.”

She snorted.

“I also like being alone, and yet here we are.”

“Yes. Here we are.” She swallowed, gazed at my mouth for a few brief seconds, and then her eyes flickered away like she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t.

I ignored my own racing pulse right along with the fact that for some insane reason, I wanted to pull off my gloves and cup her face, hold her close and feel her pulse beneath her skin.

Shaking with rage that she would try to conjure that out of me, I spat, “What useless thing were you doing before they locked you up?”

She frowned. “I’m only twenty-one.”

“I know.”

“I was in school.”

I grinned. “Eagle Elite?”

She sucked in a sharp breath. “They pulled me out.”

“Because they wanted to keep you alive,” I said plainly. “And we all know who runs the University.”

“My family used to.”

“Your fucking family is lucky to still be breathing, parasites, every single one of them.”

“Better a parasite than a rapist and murderer,” she snapped back at me.

I grabbed her by the throat and shoved her back against the wall. “I’m not the rapist.” I released her throat and adjusted my jacket. “Get some sleep. I’ll take care of everything.”

“Everything?”

“Are you seriously going to question everything I do to keep you safe? Now I have to keep you entertained? I liked you better when you were afraid.”

“I’m petrified!” she yelled. “But I’m out of options! I don’t think I have anything left to lose!”

At that, I sighed. “Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea how much you have left to lose, not yet, and hopefully for you, not ever. I’d say a prayer tonight if I were you.

“Because the minute you were brought into this club, your clock started ticking, and one day time will run out.

She was silent then.

And for reasons I refused to contemplate, I leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. “Be ready by eight.”

She put a hand to her cheek and then dropped it.

My smile was smug as she jerked open the door to her bedroom and then slammed it in my face.

“Goodnight to you too,” I said into the darkness, and then I went into my own fortress and stupidly stayed up too late wondering how I could make it so she was here a bit longer.

If only to aggravate me to death until I tried killing myself next year.

So much anger in those eyes.

So much life.

Huh, that’s what it looked like.

Being human.