Chapter 14
Victor
It’s so easy to forget Seva and I aren’t a normal couple.
Between all the touching, him cooking fresh meals for me, and our work at the studio, reality and my fantasies become entangled.
I really shouldn’t be hurt by him wanting to sleep alone, yet here I am, spilling tears as I watch the wall across from the bed.
Yes, I did initially try to attack him, but that feels so distant it might as well have happened in another life. The present me would never…
I thought opening up to him so physically would show him that I’m over my loathing. Things have changed, so maybe as time passes, I can prove to him he can trust me too.
My heart skips a beat when I hear the locks turning.
It’s not reasonable. He hurt my feelings and should have to work for forgiveness, but his life’s been tough, and I don’t want to give him a hard time when he’s here, ready to apologize for his rash behavior.
Maybe he just needed time to rethink the situation .
I jump right out of the bed, and approach the door, wrapped in a blanket. I’m naked underneath, so if he so wishes, I can let him in, and keep him warm all night long.
I think he doesn’t want to disturb my sleep, because the click is very slow, as if he’s pacing himself. I smile when a sliver of skin appears in the gap between steel and concrete, but the rest of him is covered by fabric, which is so unusual I take a step back.
A blade swishes in, catching on the blanket. I smell blood, and the skin of my forearm stings, but when the door bangs against the wall, revealing the toned figure on the other side, I let out a sharp cry.
It’s not Seva.
It cannot be.
I can’t see this stranger’s face behind the balaclava, but he’s way shorter than my lover, and he stabs at me with a... what even is it? A sword? A machete? I don’t know, and it doesn’t matter. It’s goddamn sharp and flying my way again.
I have enough brains to throw the blanket at the assailant, but then my legs meet the bed, and I collapse onto the mattress.
I don’t have some incredible survival instinct, but I’m an animal set on escaping right now.
I roll over the bed without thinking about what I’ll do next.
Adrenaline floods my system, when I land on the floor.
Crawl under the bed or attempt to barricade myself in the bathroom? Neither seems like the right choice.
“Stop! Please!” I yell without much hope. It’s an automatic response.
I don’t know if I awoke a conscience in the brute or what, but he does still, bloodied machete in hand and narrows his eyes at me.
“Who—”
Tears blur my vision, but I don’t miss the way darkness becomes denser around the masked stranger. Something about my behavior must have tipped him off, because he’s turning just as a shiny wire falls around his neck.
Everything happens so fast after that.
The man stabs back with the sword, but an arm reaches around him, twisting his right hand, and the blade falls to the floor. He then collapses, followed by a tall silhouette with hair I instantly recognize.
Seva’s features are so sharp in the dim glow of my nightlight, he barely looks like himself. It’s as if a stranger’s wearing the face of the man who painted my likeness all evening, and who kissed me until I was breathless.
He is pure hate and determination, lips curling as he growls. All his focus is on the man struggling against the garotte, and Seva has no mercy. He puts his foot between the man’s shoulder blades for extra leverage as he pulls.
I can’t bring myself to avert my gaze, even though I probably should.
I’ve seen a lot of corpses at the funeral home, but I’ve never seen anyone die .
The wire cuts through the assassin’s neck, and he makes the most ungodly gurgle as blood gushes over the floor. Seva grunts and keeps sawing with the garotte, back and forth.
And yet, despite the terror settling in my bones, I can’t help but compare the scene to paintings of Judith beheading Holofernes. There’s fury, but it also feels just. The dying man tried to kill me, and Seva is the Angel of Vengeance come down from the heavens to dispense righteous violence.
A bloody mist leaves stains on his handsome features, but he keeps sawing with the wire, until the bastard’s head rolls off the chunk of raw ham he has for a neck. I’m still when Seva rises, wide eyes seeking mine.
“You’re hurt. ”
I want to protest, but my voice remains locked deep in my throat as I glimpse the blood drizzling out of a single cut on my forearm.
“I… It’s… It’s fine…” I utter, staring at the body on the floor that was a person a minute ago.
Seva’s wearing joggers, but he’s barefoot, as if he hastily pulled on just that single article of clothing before rushing to my aid.
Breathing is so fucking hard, and it becomes ever more difficult as blood from the body spills all over the place.
“He... must have thought it was my bedroom,” Seva whispers, taking slow steps my way.
I cover the bottom of my face when the terror finally hits me and I sob, unable to get myself up from the floor. I’m trembling, and the pain in my arm doesn’t matter all the much, because I could have died.
Just earlier today, I teased Seva about the assassins not being real. Now the head of one lies on my floor. This isn’t a game anymore.
He exhales and pulls me up to the bed. His feet touch the red-hot puddle. “I’m sorry. But you’re safe now. He’s gone,” Seva tells me and pulls a roll of gauze out of his pocket. He starts quickly wrapping it around my wound.
I should be terrified of the killer sitting next to me, but in all my confused feelings, when I think of Seva, I can only see him as my protector. I rub tears from my eyes, but they just keep coming.
“Can you h-h-hold me please?” I utter. I won’t be safe until I’m in the eye of his storm.
Seva freezes, his blue eyes tinted gold by the nightlight as he takes me in from up close.
“What?” I stutter out, shivering when he cups my face with bloodstained hands.
“You are so damn beautiful when you cry,” he rasps, leaning forward to taste my tears. “Come here. ”
I’m still struggling to speak, but touch is a language I can handle.
I move like a puppet pulled by strings Seva holds, and I climb into his lap, safe when I wrap my arms around his neck.
“Who was that?” I whisper, not even bothered by the blood smeared on me, because it means the attacker is dead, and I am very much alive.
Seva kisses my damp cheek, sliding his arms around me, until I’m cradled against his chest, utterly safe. “No one. He doesn’t matter.”
“Was he alone?”
“He was. It’s just us now.”
I settle into the embrace as it hits me.
Seva said the assassin must have thought this was his bedroom.
“Oh God… You’re in danger.” It’s more of a statement than a question.
This fucker could have killed Seva. All his talent, all his beauty, all his laughter and kisses could have been extinguished. I can’t bear even thinking about it.
Seva laughs, as if this was just another Tuesday for him. “Well, yes, I told you I have assassins coming after me. Did you still not believe me?”
“It just… didn’t feel real until now.” It still doesn’t. But I’m sure that when I open my eyes and see the headless body again, it will.
Seva exhales, hugging me even more firmly, until all I can sense is the scent of paint that always clings to him. “I’m sorry I let this happen. I got distracted.”
“We… we need to make sure it doesn’t happen. What do you need me to do? How do we handle this?” I’m babbling, but I need to do something . I can’t just sit here when there are people trying to kill Seva.
He shrugs. “I’ll need to get rid of the body and clean up eventually, but that’s okay, I won’t let anything happen to you. ”
“I can help. Just tell me what to do.” Do I want to deal with human blood and guts? Of course not. But will I do what Seva needs? Yes. He saved my life.
His brows lift. “You are quite shaken. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather cozy up with Ratimir? We can move you to a different bedroom.”
“No. Don’t leave me alone,” I beg, because that seems so much worse than disposing of a body. I’m way in over my head, but I know this much. I don’t want to be apart from him right now. “I worked at a funeral home, remember? I can handle this. Let me help. Please.”
Sevastyan chews on his lip, but after watching me for long seconds, he kisses my forehead and sighs, “All right. But you will tell me if you’d rather rest. Deal?”
Relief floods my body, and I rest my head on Seva’s shoulder, finally calm. “I will.”