Chapter 15
15
C olm stood outside her door after he shut it.
You cannot barge back in.
You cannot force her to let you in.
And as much as you want to... you cannot tell Sofia that she can’t mourn that asshole she was dating.
He’d noticed that she hadn’t even asked about him. Nor about what was going to happen to any of them.
Shouldn’t she care at least a bit about Oleg?
Then again, it was Oleg. He hadn’t seemed to care about her. Colm still didn’t understand their relationship.
But she was barely showing any kind of reaction to anything that had happened. Yeah, she’d been pale and quiet.
Maybe she was in shock?
However, he’d thought she might have shown something. Fear? Horror? That she might have had questions.
Maybe it was due to her upbringing.
Was she so used to violence that it no longer affected her? Did she not care that she’d come close to dying tonight?
Because Colm cared, he cared a whole lot.
And he hated that she seemed so fucking blasé about the whole thing.
Because he wanted her to care. He wanted her to... to show him that she wanted to live.
Fuck.
He leaned his head back against the door, closing his eyes.
Was he worried about her mental health?
Yes.
Her physical health?
Also, yes.
Did he have any right to confront her about any of this?
No.
Fucking no.
And that was what was killing him the most. She was out of his reach. She was... not his.
She’d made it clear that she didn’t want that.
And are you going to just let her do that? Push you away?
Oleg is gone.
There is nothing in your way.
Well, other than the fact that they’d come from different worlds. Similar, but different.
Oleg had been a slimeball. But he’d been Russian, at least.
Would the Bratva ever accept a Scottish bodyguard being with their princess?
And did he fucking care?
Sofia would. Damn it.
She and Aleksandr were close. But Colm was fucking furious with him too. He hadn’t been protecting her well enough.
He’d let Oleg near her.
Move away from the door.
If he stayed here any longer, he was going to storm back into her room and demand everything from her.
She doesn’t want you to call her baby.
He had to admit that had hurt. It had reminded him of the status of their relationship.
Which was at zero. As in, they were barely acquaintances at this point. They’d once been friends. Or so he’d thought.
Friends who flirted.
Now, they no longer had that.
But he was determined to get that back. That and more.
Time.
He had to give her a bit more time to get her head around all this.
And then he would strike.
Because Sofia wasn’t getting away from him again.
Not. Happening.
Heading back into his bedroom, he knew what he was about to do was wrong... and yet he couldn’t stop himself from activating the cameras in her room.
The room had been set up as a sort of prison cell. It was for when someone wasn’t their prisoner but also wasn’t someone they could just leave on their own.
Colm checked the bedroom camera but saw she wasn’t in there. She had to be in the bathroom. A camera had been installed there as well, but he didn’t feel comfortable activating it.
He had some boundaries.
Though just.
Instead, he took a quick shower and drew on a pair of pajama bottoms before rechecking the camera.
Where was she?
Was she still in the shower?
The door had a silent alarm that he had activated, just like with the windows. If set off, they would only send an alert to his phone.
So she was still in there.
Just taking a long shower.
Colm couldn’t settle. He brushed his teeth and did some slow stretches to relieve the tension in his muscles.
But it didn’t work.
The longer he went without seeing her, the tighter his muscles grew.
What was she doing?
Sofia sat huddled in the shower under the hot water. When she’d first gotten in the shower, the hot water had felt amazing. Releasing some of the tension in her back.
Unfortunately, as she’d relaxed, the wall that had been keeping her safe started to crack and crumble.
Then it had all rushed back at her, and unable to hold herself up anymore, she’d slid onto the shower floor.
Her legs were limp noodles.
Idiot. She’d been such an idiot to believe Oleg when he’d told her that he had a video of Aleksandr shooting Danill. But it had looked so real.
How was she supposed to know he’d doctored it?
And that hadn’t been her only secret that he’d discovered.
Slimy bastard. In many ways, he’d been dumb.
But he’d also been smart when it had come to intimidation and manipulation.
He’d touched her.
Put his hands on her.
Sofia swallowed heavily, pushing back at the bile that rushed up the back of her throat.
She choked on a sob.
You can’t let everything go.
It’s not safe.
But she couldn’t seem to control herself. She scrubbed at her skin relentlessly as she sat there. She washed herself until she was red. Until her skin stung.
And it still wasn’t enough.
A sob escaped her despite her best efforts to hold it back.
When would enough be enough?
Scrub. Scrub. Scrub.
In the back of her brain, she knew that this wasn’t healthy. That she had to stop.
But she couldn’t seem to make herself do it.
She could feel his touch. And not just from tonight. It was months of him touching her. In the beginning, he hadn’t touched her at all.
But he’d flayed her with his words.
He’d stomped on her, day by day, wearing her down until she’d learned how to block him. But the damage was done. She’d become a shell of the woman she’d used to be.
And she now understood that had been his plan all along.
Smart. Devious.
Wear her down to nothing.
Until she wouldn’t, couldn’t, fight back.
That’s when he’d gotten abusive. Grabbing her too tightly, pulling her hair, pushing her around. Then he’d hit her in the torso. A punishment for something. A way to keep her down.
But it hadn’t had a sexual feel to it until lately.
Then tonight.
Oh, God.
Don’t be sick.
He’s dead.
Except... she hadn’t actually checked that he was.
Oh God.
What if he was still alive? What if he spilled her last secret?
Her breathing grew sharp. Her skin stung, her back ached, and her mind was splintering.
She had to find out whether he was dead.
Idiot!
But when she tried to get up, her back seized, making her cry out.
Shit!
She couldn’t move.
The pain was agonizing. It made her feel sick and made tears drip down her cheeks.
Panic flooded her.
What was she going to do? She couldn’t stay sitting here on the shower floor.
Could she crawl out of here?
Another sob escaped her as she attempted to roll around onto her hands and knees.
“Sofia? Are you in here?”
She let out a surprised cry.
Holy heck.
Colm was here.
In her bedroom.
The door between the bedroom and bathroom was partially open. If he peeked inside.
Move, Sofia!
But she couldn’t. The fact was, she needed his help. But she didn’t know how she could possibly ask him.
She didn’t want him to see her like this . . . broken and . . . not beautiful.
“Sofia? If you don’t answer me, I’m coming in there.”
“I’m in the shower!” she managed to call out. “I’m naked!”
Good one, Sofia.
“Well, I assumed you would be, Squirt,” he said with amusement.
Great.
She was Squirt again. He definitely couldn’t come in and see her like this.
“You need to come out,” he said firmly. “You’ve been in there long enough.”
Excuses swirled through her mind, but she couldn’t seem to grasp hold of one. She was so overstimulated that even the feel of the water against her skin was now too much to take.
It felt punishing, almost.
Mocking her.
No matter how much you wash, you’ll never be clean.
No matter how much you dream, you’ll never be free.
Shit.
Her breathing had grown rapid, shallow. Sofia rubbed at her chest. She knew this feeling well.
A panic attack.
No, no, no.
Get yourself under control.
“Sofia! Sofia, answer me.”
Shit. The irritation and urgency in his voice told her that he might have been speaking for a while without her answering.
“W-what . . . is . . . it?” she asked through her pants.
“Fuck. Baby, just hang on. I’m coming in.”
She didn’t have the energy to tell him to leave.
Besides, she thought she might just need some help.
The glass door was pulled open, but she kept her gaze down. The last thing she wanted to see was pity.
Or indifference.
Or . . . horror.
God. A sob escaped as she covered her face with her hands as best as she could, still trying desperately to catch her breath.
“Fuck. Baby, I’m going to get you out of there.”
The water turned off.
A relief in some ways. Now that it was quieter, she could breathe a bit easier. She hadn’t realized the noise had been adding to her issues.
“Easy, baby. You’re going to be fine. I’m here. I’m going to take care of you.”
But he shouldn’t have to.
“S-sorry,” she managed to get out as he wrapped a towel around her.
“Fuck, you’ve burned yourself.”
She managed to look up at him briefly and saw the way he was staring at her skin in horror.
“Not... burns.” Shamed filled her as he continued to stare.
She felt like a sideshow at the circus.
And her breathing grew more rapid again.
Fuck.
“Hey, hey, baby. Look at me.”
Sofia shook her head. She couldn’t. She couldn’t bear to see the way he was staring at her now.
“I d-don’t want your p-pity,” she managed to say.
“Pity? Why would I pity you?”
“Because... I’m... pathetic!” The words were spat out, filled with self-loathing. Would he agree with her?
“Sofia Anisimov, you look at me right now.”
The controlled command in his voice had her gaze rising immediately, unable to stop herself.
“That’s better.” He cupped her chin and the warmth of his skin was almost a shock to her system, even though she hadn’t thought she was cold. The water had been hot, the bathroom was steamy, so why was she so cold?
She tried to pull back. She didn’t deserve his touch. But the pain in her back stopped her, along with the look on his face as he eyed her sternly.
“You weren’t given permission to move.”
Her eyes widened. “I have to have permission to move?”
“At the moment, you do. Because, right now, I think you’re struggling to cope, aren’t you, lass?”
Oh, man.
She loved it when his accent grew thicker. That brogue that rolled off his tongue seemed to weave a magic web around her, instantly making her relax.
Well. Some parts of her instantly relaxed.
Other parts came to life.
Dear Lord.
He just seemed to have this effect on her. It wasn’t something that she could keep in check. Even when it made her feel like she was completely out of control of her life.
“Sofia? Are you finding it hard to cope? Just nod if that’s true.”
She nodded.
“That’s a good girl. The first step is admitting it.”
She wasn’t admitting to a drug or alcohol problem. But she understood what he was talking about.
“You’re spiraling, aren’t you? Panic is making it hard to breathe? Are you finding everything overstimulating?”
How did he know?
“My ma used to get overwhelmed at times,” he admitted to her. “She used to have to go off to a room by herself and just stay quiet and still in the dark. But I think you might be a bit different. I don’t think you need to be alone. No, because I have a feeling that you talk even worse about yourself in your head than you do out loud. Don’t you, lass?”
Yikes.
Why was he looking so . . . so stern?
And why was it so entrancing? Why could she not look away?
“Now, we haven’t been able to talk about our relationship at all because we haven’t really had one. But that’s gonna change soon. This isn’t the time to talk that all through, however. Because right now, I need to get you settled and relaxed. So this is what is going to happen.”
He was speaking English. She knew he was. She recognized each individual word. But somehow, putting them all together was too much for her frazzled mind to handle.
“Yeah, I know it’s too much, baby. I get it. I’m going to stop giving you choices and explanations soon.”
Did she not want choices?
What was happening?