Chapter 39
Dmitri
Eric puts on a show of annoyance with an exaggerated sigh and an eye-roll for good measure.
Once he's sure I'm aware of his protest, he tips the cup back and downs what’s left of his drink.
I take his hand and lead him into the crowd just as a new song slams through the speakers.
Heavy bass pounds through the floor, fast-paced and insistent, and the dance floor comes alive.
No words pass between us as I grip his hips and begin to sway.
He’s stiff at first, his brows furrowed in a nervous scowl while his body resists my guidance, but as the alcohol works its way through him, his tension melts.
His movements loosen and turn natural, then his arms lock around me as we dance.
We're completely oblivious to how we might look or who might be looking, wrapped up in the beat and each other.
Four songs slip by before I drag him back to the bar. We chug another drink and when he turns to me, sandy strands clinging to his sweat-damp forehead, he smiles. It's a real, easy one that crinkles his nose and eyes, radiating that quiet, contented glow that stops my world dead.
This time it’s him pulling me onto the dance floor, hand wrapped around mine as he looks back and laughs. The way he tilts his chin up and smiles with his whole body, cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling under the strobes… it’s breathtaking. He steals every molecule of oxygen from my lungs.
“Come on!” he yells as he grabs both my hands and yanks me against him.
His touches turn bolder, and his fingers grip my waist as his body glides to the music.
Sweat glistens on our skin as we press closer, alcohol and adrenaline melting the final barriers.
We touch everywhere—cheeks brushing, shoulders sliding, hips rolling, thighs pressing.
My palms rest over the round curve of his ass while his hands lock around my biceps, holding me exactly where he wants.
He pulls back just enough to smile at me, and the strobing lights dance across the gorgeous angles of his face.
In this moment he’s happy, free, and utterly indifferent to the world’s judgment or who might catch us.
There’s a stunning beauty in his carefree abandon I’ve never seen before.
He's the center of my universe, and every part of me orbits him as we move to the pounding beat.
His skin burns against mine, and his scent is laced with the heady musk of sweat that hits me like a dopamine rush straight to the brain.
I never want this to end.
When the song shifts to something slower, he melts into me, laying his cheek against my shoulder while his lips brush feather-light at my neck.
A low growl rumbles from my throat as he wraps his arms around my waist, holding me close enough that every breath we take is shared.
Our hips sway in lazy circles, friction building between us so intense I’m surprised we haven’t caught fire.
A tiny voice in the back of my mind whispers he’s not ready for this level of public intimacy, that we should pull back before someone notices. But the second his lips find mine, that voice is silenced and replaced by one that wants more.
One that can’t get enough.
He kisses me like he’s dying for it, like my breath is the only thing keeping him alive.
Hands on cheeks and fingers threading through hair, he guides me backwards until the crowd thins around us.
My back hits the balcony cage with a muted metallic thud that's lost under the bumping music. His hands grip the bars on either side of my head, somehow pulling us even closer, and I don’t try to stop him as his tongue drags across my bottom lip.
There’s no stopping this—no stopping us.
I open for him, giving everything he’s asking for, and sparks fly behind my eyelids as our tongues slide together.
Reason has abandoned both of us as we claw at each other, kissing with a fiery desperation that reaches all the way into my soul.
When we finally break for air, we gasp in jagged breaths with our pupils blown wide and bodies vibrating with tension.
“Let’s get out of here,” I whisper, voice rough.
He nods, forehead pressed against mine as a bright, unguarded smile blooms across his face. A flash of light hits the side of our faces, almost blending with the strobes and easy to miss in the chaos.
Realization hits like cold water, and time slows to a crawl as my head turns toward the source. A man stands there, cell phone pointed straight at us. When he catches me looking, he flashes a leering smile then slips the phone into his pocket. He sprints for the door.
My blood turns to ice, and I look at Eric in a split second and find him paralyzed. Panic roots him in place, but his eyes scream everything he can’t say.
Don’t let him.
Give me more time.
I’m not ready.
Protective rage colors my vision red. I take off after the man, shoving people aside without hesitation and deaf to the angry yells and indignant screams that follow.
My height keeps him in sight, and I track his weaving path through the crowd as he nears the exit.
My legs burn, carrying me faster than I’ve ever moved, and bodies scatter in front of me like they’re nothing.
His hand hits the door handle when I lunge and grab the back of his shirt.
His squeal cuts high and sharp through the music as I yank him down, and he hits the ground with a heavy thud at my feet.
He scrambles upright, eyes wild, but before he can steady himself, I’ve got him pinned against the wall with my forearm pressing hard across his chest.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I roar as the crowd’s murmuring swells around us. Eric shoves through the bodies and reaches my side, face ashen. “What the fuck was that?”
“You Hollywood types are all the same,” he sneers, voice thin and squirrelly. “So scared of a little picture.”
“You're the one who should be scared, you fucking vermin,” I snarl, nose inches from his.
“What, you're going to attack me here in front of all these people?” My jaw locks, teeth grinding so hard it aches, and triumph flashes in his eyes as he regains his bravado. “It’s incredible how much the media is willing to pay for pictures of this freak show, isn't it? I only needed a photo of you together, but I hit the jackpot. Your tongue in his mouth, his hands all over you. I bet if I waited ten minutes, I could’ve gotten a shot of one of you on your knees.”
“Fuck you,” I spit from between clenched teeth, control fraying as Eric blanches beside me. Panic rolls off him in waves, pleading for me to end this
I slam him into the concrete wall with a sickening crunch, and his eyes go fuzzy and unfocused for a second before he shakes it off. My arm draws back, fist primed and trembling with the need to connect, when a hand closes over my wrist. I twist with a growl, teeth bared like something feral.
Eric’s eyes shine green in the flickering lights, golden specks catching the strobes like quiet fire. “Hey, hey,” he whispers, trembling fingers squeezing my tensed arm. “It’s not worth it, D. He’s not worth it.”
“He tried to hurt you.” The words come out strained and broken from my clenched jaw, and I turn my focus back to the man still flailing in my grip, trying to twist free.
Another squeeze tightens around my arm before Eric’s shaking hand slides into mine. “But he didn’t, because you stopped him. Backup just arrived, so let them handle it.”
My gaze shifts to his trembling half-smile before flicking toward my other side. The bartender stands there with a bouncer, arms crossed over his chest. “For the record, I was going to give you a free swing,” he says cheerfully as they step onto either side of the man.
“Don’t encourage him,” Eric mutters as my fist finally loosens, fingers uncurling slowly. I let them take control, stepping back just enough to let the rage ebb.
The bartender offers a small nod. “I apologize, guys. We’ll figure out how he got the phone in, and we’ll make sure nothing makes it out of here.”
If I were my father’s son, I’d be screaming about lawsuits and liabilities, threatening anyone who would listen.
As it is, I only care about one thing—protecting what’s mine.
My eyes dart around to the group of people surrounding us, landing on faces that dare to even flinch.
Complete strangers, a few who I might connect with names on a good day, all watching with unfiltered curiosity.
Every single one of them is a threat right now.
Theo bursts through the crowd, rushing us and trying to throw his arms around Eric, but he steps back and shakes his head with his hand up to stop him.
Only I notice how he trembles. Only I see the walls rising brick by brick in his eyes, defenses building themselves higher as he processes the moment.
The realization sinks in that with me, this is his new reality, and this level of judgment might meet him every single day. It's something he can’t hide from.
Can’t outmaneuver.
Like a switch flips inside him, his light fades.
Cold, calculated numbness moves in, replacing everything open and alive.
He changes right in front of me as his bright eyes dull to flat, and the vibrant smile that carried pure happiness is wiped away by apathy.
His shoulders sag under the sudden weight of his darkness, drawing inward and draining him of every last bit of energy.
The warmth that poured from him is gone, snuffed out like a flame by a cold wind. The air thickens as the transformation takes root, and he retreats so deep inside himself that he’s barely a shadow of the man who was laughing against my mouth minutes ago.
The faces surrounding us are concerned but calm. They don’t feel the snap as his heartstrings sever from mine.
Don’t drown in the emptiness that rushes in to fill the void.
The distance that swallows the room goes unnoticed by them.
No panic flickers in their eyes.
That’s reserved only for me.
Our exit from the club is a blur, and my feet carry me without thought as we’re rushed into an unfamiliar van.
Eric and I end up in the back row. He’s deathly silent while the other three argue in front.
Theo and Tai are furious, while Dante is outraged that a phone slipped past the club’s security.
My ears ring, their chatter fading to distant static as the anger still buzzes under my skin.
“Are you okay?” I finally manage to ask.
Eric blinks like he’s surfacing from a trance, but he only shrugs and turns to look out the window. I reach for his hand, but he pulls it into his lap, deepening the unspoken barrier between us.
Lost in the labyrinths of his mind, he stares out into the night.
My heart rampages in my chest as I pull my hand back, feeling the distance carve into every inch of my soul.
Life took a swing at him today, and I don’t know how to support him through it.
The first time he was comfortable being himself in a public, open place, and that happiness was stolen—snatched straight from his desperate, bleeding hands.
“Eric, how can I help?”
He shrugs again in a small, surrendering motion that breaks me from the inside. But I catch the devastation in his eyes, littered with shattered dreams and broken hope. The shine of the city lights reflects off the single tear that carves down his cheek, carrying the weight of a thousand battles.
The final bricks in his walls go up, caging him behind the safety of numbness.
And only I notice.