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We still together, wrapped in each other’s arms, our hearts pounding the same frantic beat. And in that moment, I’m so completely filled with bliss that all I can think about is how much I love this man. How desperately I want to keep him.
A deep sense of calm radiates through my body, and all the tension that has left my muscles tense and exhausted washes away.
Slowly, Mishka eases out of me, his lips simultaneously pressing a gentle trail along my collarbone and throat. Then he rolls onto the bed beside me, bringing me with him so my head rests against his chest.
His heart hammers loudly against his ribs, reminding me with every beat that he possesses every part of me. Sighing contentedly, I trail my fingers over his colorful tattoos and down his washboard abs. They ripple beneath my touch, as if ticklish, but he doesn’t move otherwise, so I keep savoring the soft skin and beautiful art.
“Thank you for coming to see me tonight. I didn’t know how much I needed this,” I murmur.
Mishka hums, the contented sound vibrating against my cheek. “Thanks for not kicking me out. I couldn’t make myself stay away. I’ve been going crazy worrying about you.”
“You were worried about me?” I ask, lifting my head, a frown furrowing my brows as I look at him.
“I guess… more like I just needed to see that you were okay. You were shaking so badly earlier, I…” His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard, his expression twisting into one of pain.
“You what?” I press.
“God, Alina, I can’t stand the thought of losing you. It’s all I’ve been thinking about since last night, and I know I should give you space. I know you deserve time to wrap your mind around everything, to recover in whatever way you need. But I just had to know.”
The agony in his voice brings tears to my eyes, and I lean in to press a soft kiss to his lips. “You’re what I need right now,” I assure him. “The rest, I can figure out later.”
A soft smile graces his lips, and his eyes shift to the tender spot on my cheek. The rough pad of his thumb brushes softly over it, as if he wishes he could wipe it away.
“Well, I’m here if you want to talk about anything,” he assures me.
Resting my cheek on his shoulder once more, I snuggle close as I wonder whether talking about what happened might help me exorcise the demon in my mind’s eye. A shiver runs down my spine as I think about where it all started.
“They must have been watching the house,” I say, voicing the fear that lingers in the back of my mind, the truth that has haunted me, making me feel unsafe in my own home.
“The men who took you?” he prompts, his fingers brushing lightly over my skin in a soothing gesture.
I nod. “They started following me as soon as I pulled out onto the street. I tried to shake them, but I got lost down some side streets and panicked.”
Mishka remains quiet, waiting patiently for me to tell the story at my own pace.
“They sideswiped me, and I didn’t have time to swerve and avoid the pole. Then they just… dragged me from the car and… they put me inside a dog crate,” I breathe, a tear leaking from the corner of my eye.
Warm lips press against the crown of my head as Mishka cradles my face against his chest. It feels good to talk about it—even if my voice is shaking.
“I couldn’t figure out where they were taking me or why, and they were so rough… They didn’t care that they hurt me, and they wouldn’t tell me what they wanted. Not until their boss came to see me.”
“Boss?” he presses gently, wrapping the blankets around my body as if he’s worried I might suddenly get cold.
I’m grateful as a trickle of terror races down my spine. I shrug to mask the resulting shiver. “The scarred guy. He just seemed to be in charge. He was the only one who spoke to me, and he asked me how much I thought my father would pay to get me back.”
“He wanted money?” Surprise filters through Mishka’s tone.
I shake my head. “That’s what I thought at first. And I told him my father would give him anything he wants. That’s when the guy asked if my father would trade his life for mine.”
The silence that falls between us is deafening, and Mishka simply holds me tighter. He doesn’t ask whether I believe my father would, and I’m grateful. Because it puts knots in my stomach to not know that answer. I know that Mishka would trade his life for mine in an instant, and that makes everything that’s happened that much more confusing.
“He suggested he would… send my father pieces of me to try and motivate him to agree to the deal,” I breathe, and this time, I can’t stop the shudder that racks my body.
Mishka pulls me closer, his strong arms holding me together as if he can sense that I’m on the brink of falling apart. I glaze over the rest of the details, not wanting to relive the generous offer my captor gave me… or the way he touched my lips.
I press them against Mishka’s chest, soaking up the warmth of his skin to rid myself of the chilling memory.
“So… how did you escape? If you don’t mind me asking,” he adds, his tone so gentle, like I might shatter at a moment’s notice.
