Chapter 26 #2
Gregor carried me into his bedroom and through the closet to the bathroom ,where he placed me on the green marble counter between the double sinks.
As the shock of what I'I'd just witnessed started to settle in, I wrapped the blanket tighter over my shoulders.
Gregor then pushed the blanket down till it barely covered my breasts.
When I reached to pull it up again, his warning glare stopped me.
Placing a finger under my chin, he tilted my head back. I hissed as the dried blood pulled at the wound, making it sting and itch.
He got a fresh washcloth and ran it under some warm water. “It’s just a scratch. It won’t scar.” He placed the cloth over the cut, and after the warmth penetrated the dried blood, he swiped it clean.
Turning back to the sink, he ran his hands under the faucet. Swirls of red-tinged water circled the basin before slipping down the drain. If I hadn’t just witnessed the brutality, it would have reminded me of cleaning my paint brushes.
“Next time, bend your knees. Your attacker won’t expect it.
Then pivot and slam him in the kidneys”—he gestured to a spot on his side—“right here with your elbows. If you do it right, your attacker will let go and bend over in pain. That’s when you grab them by the back of the head and slam their face down on your raised knee.
That will break their nose and give you a chance to escape. ”
Next time?
NEXT TIME!
What the fuck had happened to my life?
I was an artist, or at least trying to be one. I wanted to create beauty, not be a part of destruction and violence. My reluctant attraction to Gregor and surprise at his more cultured side had blinded me to the reasons why I ran in the first place.
I didn’t belong in his world.
When I didn’t respond, he placed his warm hands on my jaw and looked into my eyes. “You’re safe. I’m going to make sure no one harms you ever again. Do you understand me, Samara?”
Looking down at the blood covering his chest, I shook violently. Gregor followed my gaze and cursed. Snatching up the wet washcloth, he ran it over his chest as he exited the bathroom.
I stayed put on the counter.
Afraid to move.
Afraid to speak.
Afraid to think.
After the muted sounds of rustling fabric, Gregor entered the bathroom dressed in a pair of jeans and a dark grey sweater.
He pushed the sleeves up his forearms before resting his hands on the counter on either side of my hips.
“I need to handle a few things. I want you to be a good girl and stay in our room. Jim will keep guard.”
His voice had such a casual tone, as if he were telling me he was just popping over to the store for bread and milk, instead of basically letting me know he was about to go bury four bodies.
My knuckles were white against the gold fabric of the bed coverlet as I continued to clasp it to my chest. His ring shone brightly under the stark bathroom light.
Mrs. Gregor Ivanova, mafia wife.
Was this now my life?
My entire being rebelled at the prospect.
“Samara?”
My throat seized shut as I licked my dry lips. I couldn’t meet his gaze.
“Everything is going to be okay, malyshka.”
Everything was not going to be okay.
Swallowing past the sick lump in my throat, I finally spoke. “Who was that man?”
“No one you need to be concerned about.”
I blinked. Was he serious? “How could I not be concerned? He just tried to kill me!”
Gregor nodded sagely. “And he paid the price for that, as will his family and cohorts.”
“Gregor, what the fuck is going on?”
“Language.”
“Language! Really? You’re going to lecture me about my language at a time like this? You know what? You can go fuc—”
Switching his hand to the back of my neck, he pulled me close to claim my mouth.
His tongue swept in to take possession as his other hand ruthlessly shoved the blanket aside so he could cup my breast. Shifting his hips, he wedged himself between my legs.
His hard cock pressed against my still sore pussy.
Whimpering, I tried to pull away, but he fisted his fingers into my hair and twisted, keeping me still and under his control.
His mouth tasted of vodka and violence.
The moment he released me, I sucked in a desperate breath.
Before I had a chance to fight him off, he swept me back into his arms and carried me into the bedroom.
Placing me on the bed, he stormed back into the closet and returned with a fresh blanket.
My body spun and twisted as he pulled the old, soiled one free.
Draping the soft down over me, he tucked it in along my sides as if I were a little girl being soothed after a nightmare.
“Samara, the only way this marriage is going to work is if you learn to question less and obey more.”
I opened my mouth to object.
He placed his fingers over my lips. “Before you even attempt to deny it, let me assure you… we are getting married as soon as possible. Nothing has changed, especially after tonight, and no, I’m not referring to the intrusion.”
My cheeks flamed. He had promised that in the end I would beg him to fuck me, and damn him he was right, but just because I surrendered to him in bed didn’t mean I was ready to surrender the rest of my life.
Gregor leaned over and kissed me on the forehead. “Try to get some sleep.”
I listened to the muted voices on the other side of the door. The deeper, angrier one was definitely Gregor. The other must be Jim, trying to apologize again for the security lapse. After a short heated exchange, heavy footsteps headed off down the hallway.
Still, I waited… holding my breath.
After several minutes, headlights glowed through the gauzy bedroom window curtains as a car pulled around the circular drive and sped away.
I waited a few more tense minutes till I was certain Gregor was gone, before tossing the covers aside and rising.