Page 42 of Unholy Tsar

Clenching my jaw, I turn my wrist to examine the bandage Maksim wrapped around my injured palm. Why is he suddenly so distant and cold toward me?

Maybe I was wrong about him.

“What is going on with me?” I sigh, turning my hand back around again. I can practically see the old wedding ring shimmering on my finger. It haunts me like a ghost. Maybe that’s why I can’t see what’s going on with Maksim, with myself, with the present, with my future.

Because I’m forever stuck in the past. If I ever want to escape it fully, if I want to have even the slightest chance of living a happy life, then maybe I need to face it. But I’ve been avoiding it for so long now that I’m not sure how.

Should I seek out that fucker who’s determined to destroy me? Goddman, seeing his face again is the last thing I want. I can hardly even bear to think of his name, let alone say it.

But how else can I move forward?

If I find him, maybe I can—

What? Tell him to leave me alone again? Tell him that I’ve found another man? Hah. Don’t make me laugh.

But maybe…

I flex my fingers and savor the soreness in my palm. That blade I held was sharp, sharp enough to kill the demons from a girl’s past.

Maybe I could kill him.

The thought sticks to me like a shadow.

Kill him. That wasn’t even a possibility before. But now—well, now I know how to use a gun. The big problem would be getting close enough to hit my fleshy target.

Though, I guess I could let myself get kidnapped again…

No. What would happen to my new guards then? Fuck. The only way to keep them safe would be to run away somehow when I’m with Maksim. That way, he can’t blame anyone but himself.

I sigh again and turn face down on the bed. Burying my head into the pillow, I let out a frustrated scream. But I can’t leave now.

When my lungs are empty and my throat is sore, I twist back around and stare up at the ceiling.

Yes, I need to perfect my self-defense skills before I can face the monsters from my past. And I need to recover from the last attempted kidnapping. My body still aches, and there would be no hope for me to face him in such a vulnerable state.

But I can’t wait too long either. The stress might fracture my mind. I need at least two weeks to prepare, no three—no, fuck, that’s too optimistic. I just shot my first gun. I’m going to need at least four weeks.

“What am I doing?” I whisper to the ceiling.

Do I really need that much time, or am I just stalling? Making excuses so I can stay with Maksim for a little bit longer?

Shit, I like him, don’t I?

“You sure have a type, Cecilia.”

It’s impossible to ignore. This wouldn’t be the first time I’ve fallen for a bad boy with tattoos and a criminal record longer than my arm. But for some reason, Maksim feels different.

Maybe it’s his maturity and experience… among other things.

He protected me when I needed protection. He taught me when I needed teaching. He—

“No, Cece. Stop it. He’s not different. He’s not special. And he’s not going to save you. Only you can do that.”

I know it’s the truth.

But part of me is desperate for him to prove me wrong.

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