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“You go first.”
He subtly pushes me. “You need to seriously stop the martyr act before I find an unorthodox way to extract it out of you.”
“I was only being nice…” I trail off when he glares at me. “What?”
“You’re not moving.”
“Fine. I’m going, I’m going.” Jeez, could he bring down the intensity a notch or something? It’s not so good for my overworked heart.
I close the bathroom door and lean against it to catch my breath. Then I remove my jacket and shirt, wincing every time I cause discomfort to my injury.
My hands tremble when I lower my pants and boxers.
Images of those men stripping me assault me. I can almost feel the repulsive thickness of that cock at my mouth. The strong smell of alcohol, cigarettes, and disgusting male musk. My skin revolts and a sandpaper-like sensation explodes at the back of my mouth.
Nausea fills my throat, and I nearly retch. I have to grip the wall for balance, or else I’ll collapse on the floor.
I was sure I was strong-minded enough not to be affected by the incident, but I clearly overestimated myself.
The feelings of being powerless and unable to stop their advances beats beneath my flesh, making my skin crawl.
I slide to the floor, entirely naked, and pull my knees to my chest.
Breathe.
You need to breathe.
It’s all over, I know that, but my brain doesn’t seem to have caught up.
A part of me is trapped in that dirty basement, unable to defend myself as they overpowered me, stripped me down, and—
“Sasha?”
I startle at Kirill’s voice coming through the door, but I can’t seem to move. “Y-yes?”
“What’s going on?”
“N-nothing.”
“You stuttered twice. You don’t stutter.”
“I’m fine. I just…need a moment.”
“Fuck that.” The door opens with a bang.
Kirill stops short to view the scene of me naked on the floor and probably looking hideous.
His expression is neutral, though, as if it’s a normal occurrence. He’s always had a strong mentality that I’ve often been envious of. Nothing fazes him, not the loss of men who were with him his whole life, his father’s death, or even his mother’s irrational hatred toward him.
Sometimes, it feels as if I’m looking at a robot in the form of a man.
A few seconds tick by as he watches my chaotic state, and then he crouches in front me. “What’s the problem?”
I shake my head.
“I swear to fuck, if you don’t start talking—” He cuts himself off and softens his voice, or as much softening as Kirill can do. “You can tell me, Sasha.”
“I…” I choke on my own words, and I have to blurt them out. “The men earlier stripped me and found out I was a woman, so they held me down and tried to…to…rape me.”
His face tightens, but his expression remains the same. “Did they?”
“No. I thought…I was going to be assaulted for sure, but then Rai helped me, and you came and…this is stupid. I shouldn’t be affected this way.”
“It’s not stupid,” he says with deceptive calm. “What do you need me to do? How can I help?”
He’s asking.
Wow. Kirill is asking how he can help.
I suppress a smile. I know he’s not the type who comforts others and that the concept is alien to him.
So the fact that he’s doing this is a huge deal, and I certainly don’t take it for granted.
“Can you…stay here?”
He sits beside me on the tiles, his back against the wall, and stretches his long legs out in front of him. “That’s it?”
“Can I hug you?”
“Since when do you ask permission for that?”
I throw myself in his arms, and all the shivering and fear from earlier fade away by his embrace.
And just like that, I know everything is going to be okay.
16
KIRILL
To say today was a clusterfuck would be an understatement.
Just when I thought it was finally coming to an end, it turns out, not really. Not even a little.
Not even close.
Sasha shivers against me as her arms wrap tightly around my waist and her nails dig into my back.
She sniffles, the soft sound highlighted by the silence in the bathroom. I lay my palm on the middle of her back, making her sniffle louder. The sound is like a constant shrill ripping at my eardrums.
Her naked body feels so small in my arms, so weak and defenseless. The contrast against my fully clothed one doesn’t escape me and I have to remind myself that she’s distressed and I can’t attempt anything my cock is currently suggesting.
“I thought something had happened to you,” she murmurs between sniffles. “When I woke up in that basement, I thought I’d failed you. That I didn’t keep my word, and they kidnapped me and then killed you. It made me go crazy.”
“Do you have such little faith in me?” I say in a lighter tone, trying to salvage the mood.
