Chapter 4 #2
That was an ideal dream one could only hope for, but the cold truth was it wasn’t simple to erase.
You couldn’t just snap your fingers and pretend it didn’t happen because it did.
The past affected the present and future.
Etching into fruition what would be and the chains we would be bound to.
Suddenly, the rush of memories came back.
The blood that sat and dripped from my hands couldn’t be washed off.
No matter how many times I tried, the crimson red stains were still there.
The bullet between his eyes. His lifeless body on the ground.
And my freedom being ripped away.
Along with the most precious thing in my life.
My heart forever broken because I was only half of who I was meant to be.
My mind traced back to the photo of the boy with green eyes and dark ruffled hair. Sorrow melted into my chest knowing we would never see each other again.
So no, I couldn’t get over the past. I wouldn’t.
For the rest of my life, I would be living a hell because of what happened.
“Blair—”
Flares of anger poked at my sternum as I interrupted her mediocre attempt at lecturing me.
“That’s easier said than done, Marie. Life is difficult.
The past makes up key components of our person.
Sometimes so much that it bleeds into the soul to the point you don’t know what to do or who to turn to.
And that alone makes you want to give up and make the ground swallow you whole.
So don’t tell me how I need to be or the model I need to fit because if I’m honest, I’ll never be it. Ever.”
Letting my personal statement settle in the air and scratch her brain, I use this opportunity to clear the room and leave everything, including her, behind.
Stealthily treading around the corner, hauling through the long, extensive stone hallways that lead down the west wing, and eventually turning a sharp right approaching the east wing, which was at the furthest point in the monastery.
My hands trembled, the plate shaky and unsteady, overthinking about this whole experience and if it was even worth it.
My anxiety escalated, my heart pounding against my ribs, feeling like my world would come crashing down. Like those fucking monsters would come and get me, and then it would truly be all over. Drowning my sorrows in nothing more than screams and blood.
Soon my cell came into my sight.
My bedroom was the only true place of solace.
It was the place where I could decompress.
Once I reached for the doorknob, anxiously jiggling the key in the hole, stumbling a few times before opening the damn door, slipping through, and slamming it shut behind me.
Resting my head against it, closing my eyes, and fuming my pent-up emotions.
I thought coming here would get rid of all those memories. Why didn’t it?
Would I ever know peace again?
“Kotyonok?” Konstantin's deep rasp filled my ears, somehow calming me like a swift autumn breeze.
“Mmhm, it’s me.” I confirmed his suspicion just in case he held a gun on the other end of the door and wanted to shoot me.
He shifted around; the door creaked open as my eyes did the same, only to be met with slick toned abs while water cascaded downward to his happy trail, dipping even lower where the towel hung on his hips.
Leaving my imagination to run wild and my mouth dry.
Damn, his body was toned from all the years in prison.
Manly satisfaction rose in his dark blue gaze, amused that he caught me checking him out. He ran his fingers through his wet hair, and the corner of his lips lifted up. “You like what you’re seeing, kotyonok.”
Embarrassment grazed my cheeks, flashing my gaze to some corner of the room. “Put some clothes on!”
“Oh come on, don’t just stand there. Come here.”
“Go to hell.”
“Been there, kotyonok, I’m unimpressed. Though being here next to you… that’s more preferable.”
My brow twitched. What kind of game was he playing? Did he think he could seduce me in order to do his bidding? Or that I would fall for him because of his bad reputation? Oh, please, been there, done that.
No part of me wanted to entertain the notion, especially now that it was forbidden, as I was a servant of virtue and he was a man of sin.
Destined to be pulled in the opposite direction, yet our paths forcibly collided that fateful night where he bound me to his will.
Now we both had to cooperate unless we wanted to burn and crash in the end.
Shaking my head, I walked past him and over to the drawer, placing the plate of food down to avoid throwing it at his damn face. Hoping that these four weeks would pass quickly for my mental sanity, or else the one who would need to be locked up was me.
“You know you’re bad at running away from me, Blair.” His dark, sinister voice made my chest cave in.
His palms slid past my hips and landed on my desk. The realization kicked in; he had snuck up in a moment when I had lowered my guard and caged me in, my back against his front as heat shot down my spine.
I froze, the clean, musky scent of him numbing my defenses.
“You know you want to touch it.” His innuendo was clear, and he wanted nothing more than to have me naked in his bed.
“I’d rather die.”
“Your life belongs to me now. One wrong move and it’s over for you.”
“Then what are you waiting for? Are you going to torture me?”
“Torture?” He contemplated it like it was a possibility he had in mind as he blew against my ear.
Heat dipped into my core, and like a vice, he drew me into his trap. “That would be ideal, but that would be such a waste of you. I’d prefer to etch myself into your skin, soul, and mind, so when I’m gone, you’ll only be able to think of me.”
One corner of my lips lifted, playing coy. “What makes you think I want you?”
He lifted his hand, his fingers running against my arms in a tantalizing movement. “Trust me, when the time comes, you’ll be begging me to touch you. Until then, I won’t fuck you.” He grated out, his tone devastating.
My body became like a live wire, my nipples hardened at his advances, and the idea of him taking me made me feel more alive than I had felt in a long time.
Relief settled in knowing he wouldn’t do anything against my will and he wasn’t that deplorable.
Finding some strength to turn around and see him face-to-face, growing irate by his insistence.
“You faithless heathen.”
“Contrary to popular belief, I’m a faithful man.”
“Really?” I doubted his every word, folding my arms; the black material of the dress tightened around my breasts. “And a man like you would escape prison, kill whoever got in your way, ransack a convent, and hold a nun hostage?”
A sleek glint passed his gaze while he assessed me. Carefully taking in every inch and curve of my body as his lips tilted upward. A droplet of water from his hair touched my cheek as he raised his hand and used his thumb to wipe it away.
“Well, I didn’t say I was perfect, kotyonok.”
I rolled my eyes at his unnecessary use of the endearment. “Perfect, no. Insane, yes. Also, don’t call me that. I am a nun, so I don’t need your flattery.”
“Then what should I call you?”
“Sister,” I gave the common answer. After all, I was going to have to get used to it since I was going to hear it for the rest of my life.
“But the things I want to do to you are what no sister should hear,” he lazily drawled, his words making my veins light with whirling fire, causing a haze in my head. Throwing me off my concentration.
It’s like he knew how to mess with my brain.
Damn Russian bastard.
The scent of strawberries caught my attention as it registered that he was also using my hygienic products.
“Then don’t talk then.” I slapped his hand away from my face, a residue of his touch lingering. “And stop using all of my shampoo. It’s very expensive and rare to find!”
“Don’t worry, I’ll buy you more.”
“With what money?”
“That’s my business. I’ll get you your supplies. Just be patient.”
I clicked my teeth, my face pulling tight together while I scrunch my nose. “So you say.”
He unexpectedly and roughly grabbed my chin, tilting it up to look at him, keeping my gaze defiant. “Don’t doubt my words, kotyonok. When I promise something, I make it come true. Come hell or high water.”
“It’s not of importance to me.”
Empty promises were nothing more than words.
Words couldn’t change a thing without actions.
And I wouldn’t be some fool to trust anyone when they haven’t proven themselves.
“It is to me.” His grasp became tighter, his aura more volatile, like he was someone else for a brief moment.
“As much as I can drag you to hell, I can grant you the greatest pleasures, Blair. And there’s nothing more that I would like to do than have you be my own personal heaven.
Do you know what heaven tastes like, kotyonok? ”
My lips part, a breath escaping me as my hand lands on his chest and my eyes settle down on his full lips. Wondering if they contained the answer.
I swallowed thickly and shook my head.
“Do you want to know?” He lowered his head, bringing his face closer to mine, my resistance growing weaker, almost futile.
His nose brushes against mine, and the heat from his skin burns me.
Burning like the sun, condemning everything in its path, but for the moon, it’s willing to die every night to let her live and admire her even if he couldn’t touch her.
If Konstantin truly wanted me, he would understand I couldn’t want him. I shouldn’t. We couldn’t be.
Perhaps if we had met under different circumstances… But this was my reality. My sentence to live out. Alone.
“No.” I murmured, scared. “Please.”
Kon closed his eyes and released a frustrated groan, almost like he had been internally fighting himself.
What just happened?
“Anyways, I slept like shit.” He grumbled under his breath.
“Not my problem,” I dismissed him as I gathered the bread from my dress’s pocket and handed it to him. “Here, eat.”