32. Roman
CHAPTER 32
Roman
The moment we’re alone, uncertainty settles in.
Katerina wraps her arms around herself and wanders the space of our bed chamber like she’s unsure of where to go. I lock the door and spend a second or two studying her.
Everything about her body language reads as trauma. The pinch of her brow and subtle pout of her lips. The glassiness of her eyes. Her posture’s unnatural and stiff, and she seems hesitant to do or say anything, like she’s fearful of punishment.
The spunkiness she usually exhibits has been extinguished.
It took only three days for them to squash it out of her.
I take a step toward her. “You’re with me now, kitty cat. You can relax.”
Closing the gap between us even more, I grip her elbow to turn her. She doesn’t fight it, shifting until she’s facing me again.
“Kitty cat, did you hear me?” I ask. “You’re safe now.”
She gives a nod. “I wasn’t sure if…”
“If what, devochka? Tell me.”
“You’d come. I didn’t know if you would.”
I’d be offended if I didn’t sense she’s had a rough seventy-two hours. It might not sound like a long time, but it was enough to begin questioning if she’d ever make it out. All kinds of thoughts must’ve run through her head.
Who took her and why? Would she ever make it out and would I come for her? What if she was sold to someone and taken away for good?
“Look at me,” I say in my low, guttural voice. My long, thick fingers cup the slender curve of her jaw and I tip her face up toward mine. Her gaze is so glassy and misty-eyed that I can see my reflection. “You never have to question if I’ll come for you, kitty cat. I promise I will always find you, no matter where you are. I will destroy the world if it means getting back to you.”
“Roman…” she swallows, blinking back tears. “I was so afraid. They told me nothing and I could do nothing… I wasn’t even allowed to speak. I couldn’t tell how much time passed. They kept electrocuting me with these cattle prods. All I could think was that… maybe you… maybe it was too much trouble…”
“It will never be too much trouble,” I say, dropping a peck on her wet lips, tasting the salt of her tears. “I will always come for you.”
She nods more assuredly this time, then buries her face into my chest. Her tears wet my bare chest as I hold her closer and stroke a hand over her hair.
The wig she was wearing slipped off during the gunfight. But it revealed the damage that’s been done to her once big, fluffy lavender curls.
Now her hair is fried and dried, a drab shade of brown that doesn’t pop like her curls once did.
“Devochka, what did they do to you?” I ask in an inflection that’s as low and soft as my voice goes.
She sniffles against my chest, content to stay burrowed into me. “They dyed my hair. But they had no idea what they were doing. It’s done so much damage…”
“Shhh, it’s alright. Come, you need a hot bath. It’ll help you unwind.”
The rooms at this new base of operations are not as luxurious as my penthouse but they’re a step up from the factory we’d been housed in. I flick on the bathroom light and then run the hot water in the clawfoot tub.
Katerina strips off the baggy t-shirt I’d given her to wear before she moves onto the sparkly bra and panty set the Midnight Society had put her in. The bra falls away and the panties slide down her hips and thighs to the tiled floor.
She instinctively goes to cover herself and then seems to remember it’s just the two of us. She has no reason to be shy.
But I have reason to be angry.
Enraged.
I glance up for a quick look at her and I’m engulfed by the instant flame rage brings.
My kitty cat is bruised all over.
Up and down the sides of her ribs and another giant bruise near her breasts. She has bruises on her thighs and hips.
Black. Blue. Purple.
All blending together on her normally smooth golden-brown skin.
My nostrils flare and my eyes flash with anger. She reverts back to trying to cover up.
“Any time I spoke up…” she murmurs.
It’s a rarity that I’m at a loss for words.
I find myself speechless in this moment, so fucking pissed that I can only reach out and gently brush my fingers on one of the bruises on her ribs.
It confuses me how someone could look at Katerina and her bright personality and want to hurt her. Then I think about the atrocities that happen to people sold into these systems and I remember how they’re not viewed as human beings. They’re viewed as merchandise to profit from.
Katerina was almost buried in a system that would have destroyed her in time. They would have thought nothing of it and moved on to the next person to do the same.
The bastards behind this will pay. It will not be enough for me to kill pieces of shit like JC, who kidnapped her and gave her to the Midnight Society.
JC is a small guppy in an ocean of stronger, larger, more dominant fish.
Big fish like the sovietnik.
Even bigger fish like the pakhan.
I won’t stop until I know the truth about what the fuck’s going on and then exact the most bloodthirsty and barbaric revenge humanly possible.
They will regret the day they ever decided to come not only for me but my kitty cat.
I run the bath ’til it’s full and frothing with soapy water. Katerina accepts my hand as I help her inside the tub where she sinks into the hot water and closes her eyes.
“Better?” I ask.
“Much better… this feels… so good…”
“This will be over soon, devochka,” I say, voicing my thoughts aloud. “Blood will be spilled over this. It already has been in your honor.”
She remains quiet as little clouds of steam float above the hot water. She seems relieved just to be able to soak in the tub.
I gently gather her stiff, dried curls and pull them back into a puff. The corners of her lips spread in silent gratitude.
Kissing the tip of her shoulder, I grip both of them in a firm massage. She’s so tense still that I can feel the nerves bundled up inside her.
For a long while we sit in silence. Katerina soaks in the tub. I use my powerful hands to give her the massage she deserves, working out the knots of tension in her back, neck, and shoulders.
Once the water begins losing its heat and Katerina’s skin is pruning, the bath comes to an end. I help her out and towel her off.
A pair of pajamas is waiting for her on the bed. A request I made with my employees that they quickly followed up on.
She slides into the button-up top and pajama bottoms and then mouths thank you .
“I want you to be checked out by a physician,” I say.
Her gaze lowers to the floor. “They had me checked out too. To prepare for being sold…”
“Did they…” I have to pause to battle through another flame of anger. “What else did they do to you? Tell me, kitty cat.”
“Roman, I don’t want to think about it.”
“I have to know. I need to know who and what.”
“I don’t think…” she sighs, the glassy effect returning to her eyes. “I don’t think you want to know.”
“Kat, you’re mine no matter what they did. You can tell me. You can trust me. This is between us… except when I make them suffer.”
Another sigh leaves her as she plops down on the edge of the bed and avoids looking directly at me. It’s like the uncertainty is a dark cloud that won’t let up. It hangs over her no matter what I say or how much she may want to tell me.
Seconds pass before it seems she’s able to fight through it.
“I… I was sold for the night, Roman,” she mumbles. “For six thousand dollars.”
My fists clench at my sides, though I remain silent to let her continue. It’s common knowledge what happens to the women sold at marketplaces like the one run by the Midnight Society. The higher the price, the more ironclad the sell becomes.
For six thousand dollars a night, Katerina was sold to someone very wealthy and powerful.
“I had to wear a blindfold,” she admits, her expression tortured. “I was in some kind of bedroom and he made me strip. I… I had to pleasure myself while he watched.”
My breathing’s become ragged. In and out, each breath husks from me like I’m a fuming beast who has run miles. But really I’m struggling to keep from bursting with rage. I’d rather not in front of Katerina. I’d rather not let my temper take over the moment when it should be about her and how she’s feeling.
“But he didn’t think I was doing a good enough job,” she says, wiping at her eyes. “So then… he did it instead. He put his fingers inside me. He… he touched me.”
That another man was putting his hands on my kitty cat all while she probably lay traumatized and upset makes me see red. My vision rattles from the rage that’s threatening to take over. I rub a hand over my face to keep from blacking out into a fit.
Katerina suddenly seems concerned for me. She rises from the foot of the bed and slides her hands up my chest. She’s peering up at me like she expects the rage-fueled reaction I’m blocking out.
It occurs to me it’s because she hasn’t finished telling me the rest of what happened.
Whatever she has to say next will be worst of all.
Somehow, it will be what makes me blow my fuse.
“I never saw who it was,” she mumbles. “B-but he made me come. He told me there would be no pretending and that he would return for me. His voice sounded so familiar, Zver. I… I think his voice… I think it was the pakhan.”