Chapter 20 Serafina
SERAFINA
Little miners chip inside my head, the weight of them keeping my head pinned to the pillow. Slowly, they get through the barrier behind my eyelids, which lift to sun streaming through the window above my head.
Elbows on the mattress, I push upright, taking in the blank walls without string lights.
This isn’t my room.
My gaze goes to the bed, the chipping in my mind trying to uncover my memory. Last night’s too much of a blur to make sense of. No memory of getting home or climbing into Lev’s bed. Or…am I wearing his shirt?
My scan finishes on the other side of the room, on the guy seated with his back against the wall, eyes rimmed red and shadowed with over-exhaustion. His mouth is flat, pissed, and he’s fiddling with a switchblade, shutting it, opening it, tracing the blade before repeating the process all over.
“What am I doing in here?” My question burns, my throat on fire. “How much did I drink?”
Lev lowers the knife before standing in a fluid motion, reaching for a water bottle beside him. He uncaps it and hands it to me, his demand silent through a hardened gaze.
Grateful for the water, I chug half the bottle before speaking again. “Why am I in your bed? Did we…?” Oh fuck, we couldn’t have. Zeno would slaughter me. Lev wouldn’t do that, not when I was that out of it.
His sneer answers me. “I don’t do inebriated eighteen year olds. How much of the party do you remember?”
The party? Showing up at the house with Amara. Then, we were in the kitchen, and suddenly, she was gone and didn’t come back for me. I tried to find Lev, but he was gone too, except Alessio was there.
Oh God.
Alessio. He begged for five minutes. He handed me a drink and…it was drugged. There was a bedroom. He started speaking, but exactly what he said is lost in faded memories. I was tried, dizzy, and couldn’t fight him when he came at me.
“I couldn’t fight,” I whisper. “I tried, but I was so tired.”
Lev’s watching as I roll through level after level in my mental breakdown until my breath is stilted and my chest burns with the lack of oxygen.
He caps the bottle and drops it to the floor before sitting beside me. Large hands wrap my wrists, his touch warm and welcoming, even as he forces my hands from my face, nails from clawing my cheeks.
“You did, Fina. You did good.”
“I couldn’t fight,” I repeat with a shake of my head. “That wasn’t good by any stretch of the word.”
“You were drugged. You could have only done so much.”
“I called you.”
“You did.” He squeezes my hands in acknowledgment. “When I got there, your dress was ripped, and he wasn’t inside you. Still, I have to know…” He glances down at my lap, his touch no longer as warm. “Was there anything? A finger, even?”
As memories of last night continue to clear, I shake my head. “He was busy undoing his belt when you showed up.”
With my statement, he breathes again, a full-body breath that decompresses his spine, revealing how much stress he was clinging to. “Positive? I can get you a doctor.”
“I promise, Lev. I’m alright.” Physically.
“Your dress was ripped,” he restates, like he’s working through a pre-planned speech. “After dealing with him, I dressed you in my shirt to get you back here.”
“To your bed.” There’s a question in there I hope he recognizes.
Lev slowly releases my hands, folding his together, drawing my attention to the cuts on his knuckles, dried blood caking his skin.
He’s staring above my head, at the window, when he speaks, his voice scraping against hidden emotions.
“You’ve been the exception to that rule twice now.
People don’t sleep in my bed; they don’t come into my space.
You scared me, Fina, like I’ve never felt fear before.
” He ducks his head, his eyes—a black storm—clashing with mine.
“Never,” he repeats with a whisper so softly, I read it from his lips more than hear it. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry? Lev—” Unable to stop myself, I rest my palm on his lower arm. “You saved me.”
“You shouldn’t have been out of my sight.”
“That place was insane. People were everywhere.”
“Still. I’m a shitty guard. As shitty as the two you had when you got kidnapped. You’re going to need an army at this point.”
“It’s not your fault. You were instructed to let me do what I want, to not intervene. That’s what happened.”
He stares like a ghost of the man I’ve come to know. More arguments are etched in his expression, but with a long blink, he instead asks, “That was your boyfriend, wasn’t it?”
“Ex,” I clarify in a firm tone, “but sì.”
“What’s his name?” The last time he asked, I didn’t reply, feeling it was no one’s business, but after last night, all cards need to be displayed. Alessio can’t get away with what he tried.
“Alessio.” Lev looks away, rolling his jaw together. “What did you do to him?”
He glances to where his phone sits beside the knife he was fiddling with. “Can you handle blood?”
“I handled yours.”
His lips purse before he retrieves his phone and flashing a picture my way. There’s a lot of blood, making distinguishing the figure difficult. It’s Alessio, blissfully bloodied and beaten, a better image than the ones filling my head.
“He’s alive. Unfortunately.”
Sucks.
“He said something.” Seeing Alessio pushes through more of the fog. “When he drugged me, he claimed I was his. That he’s doing this so some deal can’t be contested, but I don’t know what he meant.”
Lev looks away, and it all comes crashing down.
“You know something.”
“It’s not my place to say.”
“Zeno.” This must tie into his ‘internal issue’.
His chin dips, his nod barely decipherable.
“Don’t ask. Please don’t make me lie to you.
I called him last night. He was landing in Moscow to visit Vanessa but immediately turned around.
He should be here by this afternoon.” Lev lifts to his feet and crosses the room to his bag, retrieving his wallet.
“I’ll go get food.” With his fake student ID digging into palm, he glances over.
“I wanted to go when the dining hall opened, but I couldn’t leave until knowing you were alright. ”
“I’m not hungry.” Thirsty still. Tired. “You need to slow down for two seconds. You look like you’re about to pass out.”
Ignoring me, he starts for the door. “I’ll be back.”
Before he manages another step, I throw myself to the end of his bed, catching his wrist. “Wait. Just…wait. Sit for a moment. Seriously, I’m not hungry.” My fingers wrap his skin, nails brushing over numerous tattoos and scars decorating his arms.
“You need to eat and dress before your brother arrives.”
“I get it, but fuck Zeno for two seconds.” I tug again, imbedding my nails into his wrist to force him down.
After some hesitation, he lowers onto the mattress beside me.
Presuming I’m crossing some line, I anticipate him pushing me away as I inch closer and lean against him.
“Even if you got food, I doubt I’ll have the energy to eat.
You should rest too. You look exhausted. ”
“Thanks,” he mutters dryly.
“You know what I mean.”
“Da.”
When he doesn’t move, I inch even closer, enough to rest my head on his shoulder. For now, Lev’s all I have and all I need. His brand of comfort. A bit distant, but warm too.
His hands resting on his lap draw my attention to his knuckles. He’s done so well making me feel better, and if only I could do the same. Already, I’m crossing lines long drawn; me touching him probably goes over another.
“Remember when you denied me being a burden?” I brush a finger over his. “You’re hurt—again—because you saved me.”
“Some marks are worth it. These ones are nothing. If it meant your safety, I would have allowed myself to be injured much worse.”
“You shouldn’t have to. If I was smarter about all this—if I admitted his name sooner or didn’t go off with him last night. If I instead looked for Amara.” Who I need to message later and figure out what the hell happened. “I didn’t think…”
“You couldn’t have guessed. There’s only one person at fault, and it’s not you.”
“Still.”
“Still nothing. Your blame burdens me, Fina.”
He knows what he’s doing with that comment.
We sit like that for a while until finally, I doze.
It doesn’t feel like long before I’m lifting my head from Lev’s shoulder with a bashful smile. He’s stiff, his dark eyes colder than earlier. The vulnerability he allowed me to see is once again locked behind gates.
He moves and gathers his wallet. “Your brother’s plane is close to landing, and you need to eat. You should shower while I’m gone.”
A few minutes after he leaves, I slide from bed to stretch. In the corner opposite from where he was sitting is a balled-up sheet with my ripped dress on top. Beside it is my discarded bra, and I realize with embarrassment that Lev would have seen me basically naked last night.
I gather the ripped dress and bra because they’re not his problem; he’s done enough. I carry them into my room. My phone is plugged into the charging cord, because even amidst everything, Lev is that thoughtful.
I check it for messages, presuming Amara would have texted when realizing I was missing, but there’s nothing. It’s with a hollow echo in my chest; I type out a message.
Me
Hey, how was your night? We got separated, and I didn’t see you again?
Beside the message, a tiny red exclamation mark appears, suggesting it didn’t send.
I try again and again, and by the third, I give up.
Strange.
After gathering a towel, I head for the shower, anticipating washing Alessio off me.
While the water heats, I discard Lev’s shirt after a long inhale of his unique scent.
It lands alongside my panties, which I want to burn because he tainted them.
Once naked, the faint outlines of yellowing bruises on my thighs becomes apparent.
A handprint.
A motherfucking handprint. He marked me.
I stand beneath the hot spray, staring at my thighs where he gripped me open, seconds away from forcing me to survive a different kind of trauma, if not for Lev.
Eventually, the breakdown will hit. It’ll toss me right over the edge.
It doesn’t come.
Instead, it’s rage that invigorates me.
I want him dead, and I want to be the one to do it.