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Chapter 7
Idon’t dream…
But I know I’m in one before the cruel curtain is ripped away. I’m too happy. Too content. The warm body in my arms conforms to mine like no one ever has. So perfect…
I blink to make the scene clearer—to see his face just one last time.
I call for him…
Butthenreality returns and I wake up to a cruel world that looks the same as it always has: distorted snippets seen through the bars of the cage. It seems my current captor needs more convincing to release his pet bird from her prison. He wants me to ask him twice.
He wants me to beg.
One wouldn’t know just from looking at him, however. He’s still sprawled on his side of the bed, facing away from me as light streaks his back. But it’s surprisingly easy to sense which directions his thoughts take in this moment.
Wherever a sane man’s mind would venture, his travels the opposite path. Almost as if he likes to spite that tiny bit of humanity inside himself that only Vanya seems to think still exists.
“Little Rose…” He inhales deeply, as if sensing my attention, causing the muscles along his spine to ripple. “Did I say you could move?” He sounds half asleep.
But I’m not fooled. This creature, man or monster he may be, doesn’t sleep. He watches me during the night. He studies me.
He still is.
Aware of his scrutiny, I lie back down, staring up at the ceiling. Whatever drug Vanya gave me all those hours ago has finally worn off.
It. Hurts.
Everything.
My hand is just another agony adding to the symphony of it blaring beneath my skin. My head aches. Back aches. My soul…
It’s the most battered by Mischa’s violent whims. He manhandles it even now as he makes me listen to every lazy breath he takes while I wait for his command to rise.
Seconds pass. Minutes. My reprieve never comes.
“You don’t like being touched.” He makes that claim while a shadow creeps toward my side of the bed, cast by his hand. A heartbeat later, he boldly strokes my hip. “Oh, I don’t mean inthisway.”
As I shudder beneath his touch, his breath bastes the base of my throat, igniting sweat gathering there. In an instant, I’m ablaze.
“You don’t mind the fucking. You tolerate it. It’s the nearness you don’t like. Contact.” His hand stills as he comes to a sudden realization. “He never slept in your bed.”
I say nothing, distracted by the sensation of his callused palm. Too heavy. Too warm. Too real.
“I will not show you the same mercy, Little Rose.”
He tugs on my hip, yanking my body onto his torso. I’m now facing him directly, our bare flesh meeting with a wet slap. His eyes are heavy-lidded but stern, contradicting the slow, lazy smile shaping his lips.
“You willbreatheme.” His coarse tone transforms the words into the most dangerous threat: a shackle of promises. “There will be no escape. No reprieve. Whether you are awake, or asleep, or in my bed, you will never know any reality that doesn’t include me.”
His promise festers like poison in my stomach, eating through what little resolve I have left. I survived Robert, a badge I wear with pride. And yet…
Mischa is a whole new creature. One who’s adapted to hone every weapon my husband never bothered to use. As if to feed that fear, his hands caress my shoulders, raising goosebumps with every bit of flesh they claim.
“Don’t look so alarmed, Little Rose.” He brushes his mouth against my cheek. “I think I’ve changed my mind. Iwilldo this slowly. I might have twenty-three years to break you after all. In the meantime…”
He shoves me off and rolls effortlessly into a sitting position. With his back to me, the scars there stand out in stark contrast, catching the light.
“You want to be enlightened?” He stands and fishes his clothing from the floor. Once dressed, he looks at me from over his shoulder. “Then come and open your fucking eyes.”
