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“And now I want to go and beat the shit out of your father.”
I frowned. “Why?”
“For hurting you and treating you like shit.”
A chuckle escaped my lips. “I’ve been treated like shit my whole life. There’s nothing you can do about it.”
“You’ve gotten so used to it, you’re expecting it?” he asked.
I shrugged. “Let’s just say I’ve gotten used to certain treatment. How do I finish this off?”
Slavik told me as I still reeled from our very normal conversation. I think it was the first time we spoke to each other without sex or anger being involved.
After finishing off the stitching, I covered his wound with a large bandage, using some tape to secure it in place. Pleased with my handiwork, I stood, gathering the used pieces of equipment.
Slavik grabbed his shirt.
“Do you want me to cook you something?” I asked. I didn’t even know why I did. Every other meal I’d cooked for him had gone uneaten or in the trash. The day after, I’d seen the plate full of food in a pile as if it had just been slid right in without a single taste.
It had cut me.
“You can cook?” he asked.
“Yes. I’ve … I left you food out before. I gave you a note or something.”
“I never saw it,” Slavik said.
“What?”
“I never saw any meal waiting for me. It’s why I started eating out or I made myself a sandwich.”
“But all the food was dumped into the trash. I’d make myself and Sergei food, and I’d leave your plate in the oven. There was always a note.” I paused and then looked away.
“Sergei,” Slavik said. “He dumped my food in the trash. I had no idea you’d cooked for me, Aurora. I didn’t even know you could cook.”
“I can. I mean, I do cook. I don’t know if I’m any good.” I offered him a smile. He chuckled. “I’m sorry. I had no idea Sergei would do that.”
“Sergei would do anything to win your heart. I can see that.”
My mind replayed the moment he killed him. It was odd as I’d always felt sad about that moment. Knowing Sergei had done that, I was so annoyed. My marriage had been difficult from the start, and each time I attempted to make it easier, someone else came in and made it even harder.
Anger filled me as I turned to walk out of the bathroom.
Slavik grabbed my arm and tugged me close to him. I didn’t have time to question what he was doing as his lips brushed across mine. I knew he was in pain and didn’t touch his side as I kissed him back.
I liked his lips on mine, slowly growing addicted to his kisses. They always started out slow, tender, only to build to an inferno that consumed me. As he traced his tongue across my lips, everything faded into the background. There was no care in the world other than his lips on mine. I needed him, and I pressed my body against his, trying to get as close to him as possible.
Fire flooded my body.
Need pulsed between my thighs.
Everything was heightened.
I was hungry for more.
Desperate.
Just as suddenly as it all started, he pulled away, leaving me empty.
It was time to go and make food. Without a word, I left the bathroom, needing the space. I touched my swollen lips as I entered the kitchen.
It was just a kiss. To me, it felt like so much more, and I knew I wasn’t going to be able to stop thinking about it.
****
Slavik
I cleaned up without getting the bandage wet.
Aurora’s stitching had fucking hurt. I’d forgotten how painful it could be, but there was no reason to phone the fucking doctor or go to the hospital. They were a persona and place I tried to avoid. Besides, I had a very high pain threshold. It took a lot to get to me.
I left the bathroom, drying my body and changing into a pair of sweatpants and a shirt. I followed the scents coming from the kitchen, and I didn’t alert Aurora to my presence as she worked. She chopped onions and garlic, putting them in a pan, sprinkling in some herbs and spices as she did.
Mesmerized by the way she moved in the kitchen, I thought about what she said earlier, about feeding me. When I’d asked Sergei what she had to eat, he told me she cooked for herself, but no one else.
My anger at the asshole I’d killed was renewed. I wished he was alive so I could have killed him again. Not only that, I’d have made him see who Aurora belonged to. She was mine. No one else’s, and I was frustrated to know he died without me driving that point home.
I’d never considered myself a possessive person, not when it came to a woman. My turf I defended violently, keeping it belonging to me and in turn, part of Volkov’s terrain. Women came and went. As a young man, I’d fucked my way through so much pussy. None of them had any faces. It had all been about getting myself off, and for them, it was about taking on the Volkov’s meanest fucking brigadier. I was a badge to them, a title.
