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He cocks his head to the side. “What for? Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet?”
“No.”
Well, maybe I am. The darkness in me reveled in what we did to Johanna and Chad last night. But part of me knows what we forced them to do was wrong. And that guilt is gnawing at my gut.
But I also don’t want Alek to be disappointed in me. I don’t want him to think I’ve gone soft.
“Let’s keep it as blackmail,” I say, unable to meet his eye. “If we post it now, we lose all leverage over them. If we keep it to ourselves, we can hold it over their heads. Make them do whatever we want.”
I can’t meet his gaze, but I feel his eyes on me.
No one has ever seen me the way Alek has—not even my own mother. Surely, he can see through my façade.
I’m a wannabe bad girl who buries her head in the sand at the first sign of trouble. How pathetic.
Alek lays his hand on my thigh, pulling me from my spiraling thoughts. “That sounds like a fine plan, malishka.”
The next morning, Ivan drops me off at school with a friendly smile. I’m still not used to the idea that he’s my father’s bodyguard and, by extension, mine.
My dad has been on the phone nonstop with Washington since the protests, though he was visibly relieved when Ivan brought me home yesterday.
“See you later, Ivan,” I say, hopping out of the car.
Adjusting my bookbag on my shoulder, I head into the school and make my way upstairs. Before I can reach the classroom, I’m yanked into the men’s restroom by the arm, and I let out a yelp in surprise.
“What the hell—?”
Alek presses his back to the door, locking it with a loud snap that echoes across the tiles.
Before I can say a word, he’s pushing me against the wall with a fierce kiss.
I melt into his arms.
Our breaths quicken, and I let out a helpless moan against his mouth. When his hand slips beneath my skirt, he growls, leaning away from me.
“I thought I told you not to wear underwear in my presence, malishka?”
I roll my eyes before pulling out my phone to check the time. “We need to get to class.”
“I asked you a question.” He hooks his finger into the bottom of my panties, giving them a hard tug.
I put my hands square on his chest. “Can we do this after school? I can’t be late for class if I want to graduate. It’s not looking good.”
Alek frowns. “What do you mean?”
“I’m in danger of not graduating. Mrs. Marshmallow wanted—”
“Mrs. Marshmallow?” He quirks a brow at me, his lips tugging into an amused smirk.
“Yeah, Mrs. Marmalade or whatever her name is.”
“Marmeladova?”
“Yeah. Anyway, she wanted Dmitry to tutor me, but he won’t.” I give him a pointed look. “Someone scared the shit out of him. And I imagine the other students will also say no.”
Prisha would be the only one brave enough, and she’d be perfect if she wasn’t a year behind me in school.
“I can tutor you.” He rests his arm on the wall above my head, leaning over me.
