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What was I supposed to do for thirty whole days in a mansion I hadn’t even known existed? With a brother, I had been ripped from when I was too young to even remember?
With a past that made zero sense and still didn’t even when I really thought back on it. I almost didn’t want to ask Andrei anything. Because that would mean it had happened, and after what I’d learned from Santino, there was nothing but sadness and terror in that house. It wasn’t a home; it was more like a museum, wasn’t it? And we were simply little trophies used and manipulated in any way our father could use.
A frown tugged at my brow. I couldn’t even call him a father, really. Who takes two young children and just disposes of them like trash?
I know it happened, but acknowledging it, hearing more from Andrei, I wondered if it would do more bad than good if it would bring up so much past trauma that I wouldn’t be able to stomach it. Maybe later, maybe not this month, but one day I would ask what else he knew, and I would attempt to bury it along with my brother.
I wondered if Andrei would let me hold a funeral, one that Pace deserved. Where had those laughing, joking men taken him? Was his soul lingering because I wasn’t able to put him to rest?
A tear slid down my cheek. I didn’t feel him anymore, so why did I so desperately want to find his body and put it underground? Why did I want to plant flowers in the soil over him and give him a beautiful ending? I wanted to sing him a song and tell him he was a warrior too, that in the end, he fought.
But I couldn’t.
And I knew right now, there were bigger things to worry about, like staying alive, hoping my brother and the rest of the people involved stayed alive so that I could carry on Pace’s memory by doing the same.
Living.
I walked in a haze most of the day, tried to watch TV, and eventually, with the silly cat curled up against me—felt my eyes get heavy.
The monster hid in the darkness.
“I’ll find you,” he whispered. “I’ll kill you. I’ll finish what I started.” His dark chuckle was the thing out of nightmares as I tried to wrap my arms around myself, to hide my face, my body—the last time he wanted that most.
My stomach churned as footsteps sounded.
And then my name, over and over, as something touched my face.
A hand?
A glove?
“Katya, wake up!” Santino was hovering over me in the semi-dark room.
I didn’t think I just reacted.
Unfortunately, my gut instinct was to swing my fist.
My knuckles connected with cartilage and came back bloody as I fell back against the bed; his heavy body collapsed against mine, his eyes open wide in shock as blood spurted down his face. “Why the hell did you punch me?”
Tears filled my eyes. “I’m s-sorry, I thought, I thought you were him. The man, the one—”
“I killed him.” His gorgeous dark face grew serious. “And I’ll kill them all. As long as I’m your protector for thirty days, I’ll kill every single person who makes you crazy enough to punch an assassin and get away with it. Damn it, did you have brass knuckles on or something?”
I laughed a bit through my tears. “Weak.”
He made a growling sound low in his throat as he hovered over me. I noticed that he was shirtless, with all the golden parts of his skin on display, including his impressive chest and biceps. My face heated as I looked away. Did he have something against clothes when he was home? Wasn’t he dressed this morning?
“New rule,” he rasped, so close to me I could feel his body heat and see the way his eyes never left mine as though he needed me to focus on him and only him, so I understood every word coming out of his mouth.
“But aren’t there already enough rules?” I leaned back so I could stare up at his face and those bright, angry green eyes. It was a welcome distraction from the sound of footsteps, from the nightmare. I knew he was dead, but my captor was very much alive and well in my nightmares.
A smirk curled around Santino’s full lips. “Rules keep people safe—they keep you safe—and they make it, so I don’t die by your side in the next thirty days.”
“Thought you were a big bad assassin?” I taunted, suddenly feeling anger and something else course through my veins, something that felt a lot more like excitement than fear, or maybe I couldn’t tell the difference anymore? “You trying to tell me we need rules for you to do your job.”
He let out a snort and lowered his hand to my thigh, gripping it hard with his fingertips. I enjoyed the pressure. It made me think of that one thing and nothing else. “As if you even know what rules Andrei gave me.”
“Not to touch me.” I swallowed slowly. “Which is exactly what you’re doing right now.”
