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Savage Don

Page 177

by Liz Archer

Heck, I didn’t even go back for my clothes because Nikolai gave me everything. He took care of my every need, made sure I would never want anything.

Am I being ungrateful? Maybe. But it also feels like I’m losing a part of myself.

Now I have a new bed in a room I barely sleep in. I have not looked for another job. This is how it happens, I think.

You stop being careful one ordinary day at a time.

My phone lights up on the bedside table.

Unknown number.

My stomach drops before I even read it.

If you don’t know how dangerous he is, see for yourself.

There is a link beneath it. For a few seconds, I stare at the message. Then I block the number. Again.

For the hundredth time, maybe. I have lost count. Evan always finds another way in. Another number, another email, another person who thinks they are being helpful by passing along his concern.

I don’t open the link. I put the phone face down and press both hands over my eyes.

Boundaries, I tell myself. I need boundaries.

With Nikolai. With this house. With whatever is happening to me here.

Then, an hour later, Anya appears at my door with a blanket under one arm and a determined expression on her face.

“Movie night,” she announces.

“Is it?”

“Yes. Galina said no, but she says no to joy.”

I bite back a smile. “What movie?”

She tells me.

I look at her. “That sounds scary.”

“It’s not scary.”

“Anya.”

“It’s only a little scary.”

That’s how I end up in my new bed with Anya tucked against my side, both of us pretending we are braver than we are.

Twenty minutes in, something moves in a dark hallway on screen, and Anya grabs my arm.

“I thought you said it wasn’t scary,” I whisper.

“It’s not.”

“You’re holding my arm very tightly for someone who isn’t scared.”

“I’m protecting you.”

“Very generous.”