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“I didn’t mean it, Ivan. I swear I didn’t.” I reply hoarsely, as he walks over to the bed and kneels down on it. I hiss at the contact of the warm washcloth against my overly sensitive pussy as he gently wipes away the blood and evidence of our sex.
“Stop…” He orders, and I feel the fresh tears slipping down my cheeks. I’m an emotional mess right now wearing every single feeling I have on my face. He only looks at my face briefly before he get up and pulls on a pair of boxers. I watch him though my tears as he gets out some clean boxers and a shirt, tossing them in my direction.
“Get dressed.” Panic clings to me. Is he really going to send me back downstairs?
“Please Ivan, don’t do this. I’m sorry. Please… don’t bring me back downstairs. I’ll sleep on the floor if you don’t want me in the bed, just please don’t make me sleep in the cell again…” I might be pathetic sounding right now but I don’t care. The fear of being locked in that cell for the next week is so overwhelming that I would do about anything to avoid it.
He turns back to face me and I try to blink the tears away, but all it does is makes some more roll down my face. His gaze softens, his anger level dropping from a nine to a seven.
“Just put some clothes on and lie down,” he orders before walking out, slamming the door behind him, leaving me cold, and alone.
I sob into the sheets, pain radiating out of my chest. I want this to be a lasting memory but all I can think about is forgetting this night, forgetting how I ruined us.
Chapter Eleven
Ivan
Three fucking words. Three little words strung together. To some they meant nothing but to me they left me with a hole in my fucking chest. It wasn’t the words that hurt me, it was the meaning behind them, and what they meant to her that bothered me.
I grit my teeth, and clench my fists tightly, the muscles in my forearm burning with a need to destroy. Why did she have to say those three fucking words? I let the tension inside my body spiral out of control as I grab the bottle of whiskey from the counter and pop the cork off. With no care for a glass, I take a huge gulp straight from the bottle
. The amber liquid burns in the back of my throat, and I relish in that burn as it settles into my stomach, warmth pools and spreads out across my insides, and I take another drink, and then another drowning my pain, my past, and a future I’ll never have in the warmth of whiskey.
It would be so much fucking easier if she saw me as a monster, as the fucking man giving her a death sentence, but I’m not even doing that. I’m saving her, setting her fucking free, and when all this is over I’ll be nothing but a black stain on her heart, a dark memory from her past that she doesn’t want to remember. My grip on the bottle of whiskey is hard enough to shatter it, and I swallow around the bile that rises in my throat at the memory of losing my sister.
I saved Violet to make up for failing my sister, but I didn’t really save Violet. I didn’t fucking save anybody…she loves me…she fucking loves me, and that’s not saving her, that condemning her to a life she’ll never be able to escape from. Everyone who ever loved me is either dead or wishes me dead. I destroy anyone who gets close to me and I’ll destroy her too if I don’t let her go.
“Roman…” I called out for my brother but he wouldn’t look at me.
He hated me as much as I hated myself.
“You killed her Ivan. You killed our sister.” There were tears in his blue eyes and I swallowed around the guilt and shame that coated my insides.
“I didn’t mean for her to get hurt.” I pleaded with him to understand, for anyone to understand. I was so alone, so broken, that parts of me wished it was I that had been struck by a car that day instead of Mira. I deserved to die, not her…she was young, beautiful, she had a long life ahead of her.
“All you had to do was be a brother.” Roman shoved against my chest, and I let him. He pushed me, his fists slamming against my chest. We were both the same size now, and if I wanted to I could probably stop him, but I didn’t want too.
I wanted to die. I wanted him to hurt me.
“All you had to do was watch her, and you didn’t. You let her die, you killed her…” Each word came with a punch, and I didn’t even realize I was crying until the tears started to fall.
