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Once again, who the hell am I kidding?
From my upside-down position, I don’t see the guy with the shaved head, Vadik, but do see the two others. He must be the one carrying me. We head toward the back of the shop.
“Mr. Gates, stay right where you are. Niko will wait with you.”
Oh god. What are they going to do? My mind races to the worst-case scenario, something all women fear with a devastating intensity, and I kick and scream harder. Vadik stops and waits for his brother, the one with the bun in his hair, to take a seat on a folding chair, and hands me to him like a sack of potatoes, like he does things like this all the time.
“You got her, Kir?”
I am laid across his lap like a bad girl about to get a spanking.
Holy shit.
I am about to get a spanking.
* * *
CHAPTERELEVEN
Charleigh
Whack.
The first strike knocks the wind out of me.
Whack.
The second causes a muffled yell.
Whack.
And all those that follow leave me screaming for mercy.
Thank God I’m wearing blue jeans, which undoubtedly absorb some of the strikes.
After ten or so smacks—I lose count pretty quickly—Kir places his open palm on my bottom and rubs it in soft circles. The sting from the spanking is still there, but changes somehow. It hurts.
But also feels good.
“Do you think you can behave now? Not interfere in business that’s not your own?” he asks.
I don’t say anything, afraid of giving away the strange pleasure I’m experiencing.
In the absence of an answer, he fists my hair, wrenching my face to his. I claw at his painful grip but my efforts are useless. The only thing that works is when I finally answer his question.
“Y… yes,” I sputter.
“Yeswhat?” he growls.
“Yes, I will behave now.”
He sighs and Vadik takes me by the underarms, hoisting me to my feet. I am lightheaded from my head hanging down, and for a moment, I hold onto him until I’m steady.
Good god, he’s solid. Unmovable. Like holding on to a mountain. And when I lift my head to look at him, his blue eyes sparkle like he’s an actual human being. Which I know he is not.
We return to the front of the store, where Niko watches my father, now slumped in a chair, I’m pretty sure with tears dripping from his face.
Pops does not look at me.
