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I’m trying not to worry that he’s withdrawing from me, but it’s hard. It’s not like we’ve labeled what we are. He has no obligations toward me.
Don’t worry until he tells you it’s over.
Walking into the class from hell, nerves spin in my stomach.
“I better not be shoved into a crate today,” I mutter.
“If we get to choose, pick Misha,” Abbie says. “He won’t do that to you.” She glances at me. “Just make sure you go to the restroom before they tie your ass down. There’s no getting out of those restraints.”
I let out a chuckle as we join the other attendees.
Instructor Yelena glances at the group, then says, “Aurora, you’re with Misha. He’s going to help you get over your claustrophobia. The rest of you follow me.”
With a gaping mouth, I turn to Misha. “We’re doing what?”
He waits for everyone to head into the warehouse, then asks, “You trust me, right?”
“Not enough to be stuck in a small space,” I mutter.
Misha gestures toward the backdoor. “Come on. I promise it’s not as bad as you think.”
When we walk into the warehouse, we head to the back where the crates are.
“I’m not getting into a crate.” I shake my head at him. “There’s no way.”
He grips hold of my arm and pulls me into the maze. We stop in front of a random crate, and I watch as Misha takes the front panel off.
He crouches and crawls inside, then sitting down, he pats the tiny space next to him. “Get your ass in here. We’re leaving it open.”
Taking a deep breath, I crawl in next to him. “How is this going to help?”
“By gradually being exposed to small spaces, you’ll become desensitized.”
I turn my head to look at him. “How do you know it will work?”
“Because I’ve kind of been through it.”
My lips part. “For what?”
He thinks for a moment, then says, “My situation was very different from yours. I was desensitized to taking a life. At first, it fucked with my head, so they forced me to take care of all the kills. After a while, it didn’t matter anymore.”
Oh. My. God.
I can only stare at Misha as his words sink in.
We’ve never talked about his job as an enforcer, and I don’t know how to approach the subject.
His eyes drift over my face. “What do you want to ask?”
Paula’s scream echoes through the building, then I hear Abbie curse, “I’m going to rip your crazy-ass dick off. Motherfucker, that hurts.”
“Stop cursing him and fight back, Miss Sartori!” Instructor Yelena shouts.
“Aurora,” Misha says to get my attention back on him. “What’s the question?”
My teeth tug at my bottom lip, then I just gather the courage and ask, “Don’t you feel guilty when you kill someone?”
He shrugs. “At first, I did, but with time they all became jobs that had to be done. If I have to think about every person I killed, I’ll never sleep a day.”
