Page 39 of Essence of Fear

Finally, she got the cap to twist when she used a dishcloth to aid her efforts. The promise of a full night’s sleep, helped out by liquor, was on the horizon. After a night like tonight, being crammed into a space full of too many other people, she was going to need that.

It wasn’t that she dreamt of other people attacking her—it rarely worked out like that in her dreams. Instead, she dreamt of Boris in the crowd, watching her. Even in her dreams, she could feel his jealousy like it was thick hands closing around her throat. She could practically taste his possessiveness the same way she could still taste blood in her mouth when he’d hold her head still so that he could shove his co—

The knock on the front door interrupted her thoughts from going any further. She wasn’t sure whether she should be thankful for that or not. Especially considering she had started to close her eyes as the flashback came on because she still hadn’t learned.

She had yet to figure out that closing her eyes and willing the memories away didn’t actually take them away. If anything, it made it them sharper and clearer. She’d open her eyes, and still see him. She’d look around, find her place was empty but for her, and still taste blood and cum in her mouth.

Viktoria set the bottle on the counter and put the cap beside it, even as the knocking on her front door continued on. She had a good mind to shout at whoever it was to quit it, but she couldn’t even talk like this.

Her throat was too tight, and she couldn’t drag in enough air to satisfy her lungs despite the fact she was sucking it back faster than ever. Her hands trembled against the countertops, just like the rest of her body, too.

Five days of her life seemed to be what would define the rest of it. Five days of hell at the hands of a monster followed her day in and day out. Oh, sure, people didn’t see it when they looked at her. She put on a good front and kept people at a distance with her cold demeanor and harsh attitude, but she knew. She couldn’t ever fucking forget.

It was constant.

She ached in her bones.

The pain wasn’t something anyone else could see because it was invisible and tailored just for her. Like a thousand little papercuts just under the surface of her skin. She didn’t want to feel them, but she didn’t get any choice.

She was a leaf in the wind.

Twisting.

Falling.

Dying.

In the cupboard, just above her head, two bottles of medications taunted her. She didn’t even have to see them to know they were there. Despite being adamant on the fact that she didn’t want to take medications to get this under control, her therapist went ahead and wrote the prescriptions anyway.

Viktoria didn’t know why she decided to fill them when she knew there was no way she was going to take the anti-depressant and Xanax. Still, she’d done it, and now every single time she had another one of these moments—usually a couple of times a day on a good one—she felt like the medications there fucked with her head.

She was reminded that someone was still at her door when another knock echoed throughout the bottom level of her house. She didn’t know who in the hell would be at her door at this time of night, and she had a good mind just to ignore it altogether. It wasn’t like she planned on letting whoever it was come inside.

No way.

Then, she remembered that it could be one of her brothers. Occasionally, Konstantin did make his way by her place to check on her before he went home to his wife. He always tried to act like he was in the neighborhood, but she knew better. And Kolya, well, he didn’t try to pretend anything. He outright told her when Maya would send her husband over to check on Viktoria.

If it was one of her brothers, she would be able to tell by peeking out the window on the other side of the kitchen and looking toward the stoop. She crossed the kitchen to do just that, expecting to see either her brothers, or someone else she wouldn’t bother to go and answer the door for. Instead, she found someone else entirely waiting on her front stoop.

Pavel.

Viktoria blinked.

Surely, she wasn’t seeing what she was seeing.

Right?

She’d had a moment with him earlier at the baby shower—a weak moment, perhaps. It certainly felt like that when after it was done, the only thing her mind could really focus on was all the ways it could have gone bad for her. Although, a part of her was still humming hours later, too, unable to forget the way his warm, calloused hands felt exploring her curves, or the way his mouth tasted as it devoured hers.

Viktoria had too many issues to name.

Sex was a big one.

How could she be both terrified of a man, and also want to fuck him? That didn’t make sense to her. Sure, her therapist had explained that was something that would likely happen once she was ready to be intimate again, but she had laughed that off. At the time, she’d never thought there would be a time when she wanted to jump into bed with a man again.

Except now she did.

Because of him.