Chapter 17 #2
A strange series of emotions cast a moment of reverence over me.
I was no longer that man, what little emotion I’d had driven away.
My laugh was cold yet not bitter. While I had a strange desire to rip the damn thing into dozens of pieces, I refrained, placing the single piece of paper back into the stack.
I moved to her kitchen, opening several cabinets. I wanted to get a sense of who she’d become as a twenty-one-year-old woman.
There was no denying the woman she’d become, the innocence I’d seen in her before fading, the strength and resolve that had barely been awakened taking hold. While she’d been nervous walking down the runway, her confidence had built with every step.
I noticed another dog toy on the kitchen table and squeezed it until the squeaker inside sounded off. Seeing Golden Angel by her side meant she’d returned to her life.
Seeing a basket of fruit on the table, I snagged a plum, taking a huge bite and remembering just how sweet she’d tasted all those years ago.
In truth, the memories of the dark passion we’d shared had been a constant, delicious companion that had allowed my mind another reason for staying alive until I escaped or was freed.
Seeing her again.
And doing so hadn’t disappointed. Still munching on the fruit, I headed to her bathroom, flicking on the light. I laughed, seeing her shower curtain. All golden retrievers in various costumes on clear plastic. She was more whimsical than I remembered.
Good. I was glad to see she could shove aside the evils of the world if only for a little while.
Discovering her expansive number of shower gels almost brought a smile and I grabbed one, flicking it open. Strawberry. Delightful.
Once I reached her bedroom, I paused just inside. She lived on the eighth floor, high enough she had a gorgeous view of the city while also being more protected. What alarmed me was that I hadn’t seen a single bodyguard watching over her. Not one.
Why?
Did Demarco no longer care about his daughter or had she proven herself capable of handling her own security?
Or had he tossed her aside after I’d been captured?
I moved to her bed, sitting down on the comforter and turning on the gorgeous Tiffany lamp on the nightstand.
Her one luxury I’d found so far. The room was sensual in nature, one access wall painted the same royal purple I’d seen in the dress she’d designed and in the rich hue of the collar chosen for Golden.
Her closet door was partially open and I couldn’t help myself, going to stand in front of her clothes. Everything about the woman surprised me, including how much of her was still the girl I remembered.
She had a few dresses that I suspected were her designs, but she also had a collection of jeans and tee shirts, sweaters and hoodies that seemed much more like a girl in her early twenties.
Yet everything about her was sophisticated.
I pulled out one dresser drawer after another until I found her lingerie. Just bringing a pair of panties to my nose brought a smile. What a pervert I’d become. I remained in her room for a few additional moments while finishing the plum.
For a man who’d shut down all his emotions, learning that pain was the only way of being reminded he was alive and that his sole purpose in life was to eliminate his enemies and enjoy the heinous acts while doing so, the softness of the moment felt strange.
As if he wasn’t allowed to share in the moments of joy the girl who’d grown into a woman had afforded herself. In those same moments, a strange and very unwanted sense of sadness slowly ebbed through my veins and muscles, even managing to cut off my air supply for a few precious seconds.
Despair had never truly been in my vocabulary, but tonight while standing in the silent, peaceful location, the emotion threatened to derail all my plans.
And why?
Because I’d never stopped being a man with wants and needs. Wanting her had never been an issue. Needing her was something entirely different. The intensity of my longing had changed, becoming more focused now that I knew she was alive.
Maybe I was angry with her for moving on, yet she hadn’t forgotten me.
“Ya tozhe tebya ne zabyla, moya malen’kaya tselitel’nitsa. My snova budem vmeste. Ochen’ skoro.”
I didn’t forget you either, my little healer. We will be together again. Very soon.
For about a thousand reasons, a laugh bubbled to the surface, but not one of eager anticipation and sensuality. Instead, it was one of determination, lust, and something even more powerful.
The need to possess.
I was raw with an almost vulnerable need, my chest heaving from the ugly ragged breaths as I raked my fingers down her pillow, bringing the satin-covered down to my face, inhaling. How I’d longed for one last touch, one deep whiff.
Now I would have it all.
With another deep breath, I returned the pillow to its place, lightly tracing a circle on the center. She would be my lure, the prize for finishing the wretched game begun over three years before. And my winnings would be the ultimate celebration for a job well done.
Being in her home provided a sense of the woman she’d become, yet I had no knowledge of whether she could be trusted.
What being inside her private space did do was fuel the same hunger as before.
The man inside could barely contain his desire, a longing that had festered during the darkest hours of my existence. A part of me wanted to punish her, but the reasons were more selfish than based on solid information that she’d had anything to do with my imprisonment.
It was time to leave, but I would remain watching. If anyone other than Kirill knew I was alive, she could also be in danger. Maybe that was my excuse for loitering.
No, the correct term was stalking.
A lazy smile crossed my face. This was the most fun I’d had in years. Maybe I was finally slipping back into the skin I’d been born with. A man who accepted no one’s shit or lies.
And certainly, one who captured and kept everything he desired.
Maybe my possessive needs required a perfectly caged bird after all.
My throbbing cock was a reminder of just how hot I’d been for the girl. Maybe, just maybe I’d indulge once more.
With my joints aching and my cock pressing against my trousers, I was forced to reposition my dick. That’s the effect the girl had on me.
Toying with her, spying on her private actions would be such a pleasure.
Then I’d make my decision on how best to handle her future.
At least for now.
I tossed the plum pit into her garbage, dragging the tips of my fingers along her kitchen table before heading to the front door.
Before leaving, I took one last look as well as a deep breath.
In those seconds, I was forced to face the fact years before she’d crawled under my skin.
And I had no intention of letting her go.