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We’d have to go our separate ways soon, but don’t worry.
I’d find you again, and you’d be in my arms forever, wrapped in the darkness that you feared not too long ago. This time, you’d thrive in it.
With that, I left the room, and started the preparations for my escape. If I was caught now, I’d be executed much quicker, and that wasn’t something I could allow.
Not when my Bambi would be waiting for me.
I saw you crying today.
Why did you cry, Bambi?
Who dared to make you cry?
Your tears are mine to see.
I’ll kill everyone who dared to make you suffer, love.
XIX
STORM
Micah was gone, again.
I heard some commotion in the garage, but didn’t look for him. I couldn’t bring myself to take that step. Not yet, at least. Instead, I’d spent the entire day switching from the bathtub and bed, until I got hungry enough to grab some food.
Like usual, there was a plate filled with food waiting for me.
Breakfast time was long ago, but I still ate the scrambled eggs like my life depended on it. For days, and nights, Micah fucked me. And each time I thought it was over, I felt his cock get hard again. He was definitely insatiable.
My entire body was covered in bite marks and bruises. I enjoyed all of it, but now that the moment had passed, I was cussing him out in my head. I was barely able to stand properly, and even holding the fork for too long was painful.
He exhausted me beyond limits.
I turned on the TV and switched through the few channels it had. My feet were on the coffee table, and the plate with food rested on my stomach. My hair was messy, matted in some spots. I couldn’t bring myself to spend time detangling it, so I threw it into a bun that looked like a bird's nest.
Chewing the food took me too long. Despite sleeping for almost twelve hours, I still felt exhausted. I managed to doze off a few times, and each time I’d wake up abruptly. I was waiting for Micah to come back to the cabin so I could give him a fucking talk.
Then, as I was about to doze off again, I heard the word “criminal” pop up on the news channel and my eyes opened instantly.
However, it wasn’t about Micah.
Even before he took me, they would report on the recent murders that they suspected were done by the Russian Bratva.
At this point, I think every household knew the family Kalashnikov. They didn’t have their faces, aside from the youngest child, the daughter. However, they didn’t mention her that often. From what I’d gathered, she was not in that world.
But how innocent could she be if her family was killing people left and right?
The killings were never confirmed to be by the Kalashnikov family, nor did they truly have any evidence against them. Some suspected that they’d bribed the law enforcement, while others believed they were the law.
All in all, hearing that family name sent shivers down my spine.
And yet, I couldn’t decide.
Was I happy or upset that there was nothing about Micah on the news?
The rational side of my brain, that seemed to lessen over the time I was with him, told me not to be happy over that. It meant that no one was looking for me, that I was irrelevant and that no one would come to save me.
But why did the thought of no one saving me make me feel so much inner joy? It wasn’t something that I should be wishing for, and here I was, hoping that they would either drop the investigation entirely, or just prolong it for a while.
