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“Just leave me alone,” I croaked. My body no longer craved him in the same way but left in the place of that urgent desire was only pain. Rejection. Regret.
He lowered us to the ground and wrapped his arms around me. I didn’t want to let him see my tears, didn’t want him to witness me break down in front of him, but I couldn’t stop the tears from pouring out. I’d given everything– all of myself, only to be brutalized and abandoned again.
He blew out a slow and ragged breath, his lips on the shell of my ear. My breathing was labored in between sobs, and he cradled me closer to him. “I’m… I’m so sorry baby.”
He caressed up and down my arms, but all I felt was coldness.
“You’re right. God, I don’t know how I thought I could deny it,” he rasped.
I quieted at his words, wondering what his next attack would be. How else he could torment me?
“I am weak for you. You’re my weakness Darya Munro and it’s fucking terrifying.”
My tears kept flowing and he pulled out, turning me in his arms until I was straddling him and pressed against the hard planes of his chest.
“As much as I wished this meant nothing,” he crushed me against him and pressed a kiss against my hair, “it’s everything.”
My lungs emptied and I pulled back, searching his gaze. I didn’t believe him, couldn’t let myself if I wanted to survive the pain. But all there was in his eyes was anguish, it reflected my own like he was devastated seeing what he’d done.
“You’re everything.”
His lips brushed across mine so tenderly it felt like a whisper. The heat between us never dissipated and there was no space between our bodies. We were one– both seeing each other stripped and bare for the first time.
I couldn’t get enough.
But the exhaustion took hold, and he brought my head back to his shoulder. “Let me make it up to you, baby. Let me fix the hurt.”
I nodded, unable to muster a word in agreement or anger. I was shattered and just as I’d wanted in my sick fantasies– he was here to put those pieces back together.
Chapter 15
Yuri
Ididn’t sleep a wink that night.
After I’d taken her to that room and destroyed her, destroying myself right along with her, I carried her up into my room and didn’t give a fuck who saw me. Even after she’d fallen asleep, her little frame trembled in my arms and tears kept falling just to drag out my guilt.
I’d fucked up so far beyond belief I wasn’t sure how I could ever make it right.
But I wanted to, more than anything.
So, I held her in my arms all night. I rubbed her back and whispered into her ear that she was safe and that I was sorry for everything I’d put her through. All I could hope was that in the recesses of her mind, she heard me and wouldn’t wake up with the same fissures I’d worked so hard to inflict upon her heart.
But where that left me, I wasn’t sure.
For the three days I’d left her in here, alone, and scared, I’d nearly gone insane. I went on a tear after the conversation with my father, throwing myself into the job and hunting down every single lead that was thrown my way about the elusive Desalmados. I filled my mind with vengeance and covered my hands in blood to wash away the hatred for my father and the confusing feelings for Darya, but at the end of those three days, nothing helped. I was a slave to my bleeding fucking heart for her and how it had been stabbed in the first place was a mystery to me.
The only thing I’d allowed myself to do as it pertained to her was ordering my brother to take her twice daily meals. Even that proved to be too much for me to handle and Matteo caught on quickly. We never finished that discussion, and I knew that he could tell something was up but I couldn’t drag him into another bit of family drama and replay history. I refused.
So, after tamping down everything and swallowing the budding feelings I refused to admit, I lost control the moment she called me out on my bullshit. And she paid the price for it.
A hefty one by the stirring in her dreams.
And now, I had to figure out where we both stood in all of this. Did she hate me like she claimed to? Did she want nothing to do with me?
How far was I willing to go to protect her?
If history truly was repeating itself, would I have to choose between my family, my name, my life, and the girl in my arms?
