Chapter 29
EMBER
We heard the gunshots from the room as one of Sergei’s men was finished duct taping my wrists.
He’d started with Sasha, getting the first round of tape over her wrists, and was now talking about taping over our mouths.
She’s sitting next to me on the floor of this dark, barren room, her face shiny with tears as she sobs softly.
As soon as he heard the shots, though, he stood up and pulled out the gun from his belt and walked toward the door where another one of them is standing just outside. He says something to him in Russian, and the other one gives a short answer.
Whatever’s happened, it’s not according to plan. Not judging from how cautious they’re both looking all of a sudden. I glance over at Sasha and give her a look of hope.
He’s here. Roman’s come to rescue us. Or at least, I hope he has. I hope Sergei didn’t get the better of him. I hope—
The first man barks at the other, waving his gun over his head. Go check, he seems to be saying. The other argues with him and points to the two of us. He doesn’t want us left alone. Finally, the second man relents and disappears from the door.
The first one turns back to us and sighs. “You two have been more trouble than you’re worth,” he says as he picks up the duct tape. “I’ll be glad when this is all over.”
The tape comes free with a loud rip. He bites off one end and rips it free from the roll in one movement and starts walking toward me. As he places it over my mouth, he says, “Maybe Sergei will let us have a little fun with you, first.”
He regards me for a long moment, then reaches down to grab one of my breasts. He leans into me and suddenly, I’m in a cloud of heavy vodka and foul breath. “Yes,” he says as he squeezes it. “I think you’ll be a lot of fun—”
The door slams open behind him. He jumps and whirls around just as Roman’s fist hurls up toward his chin. His head jerks upward and blood sprays up into the air. Roman punches him again as he falls to the floor with a hard thud.
Roman stalks over to him and starts to stomp his head in. I turn away, closing my eyes tightly as the sound of the room is filled with the squelching sound of his boot crushing the man’s head over and over again.
I feel the cool, slick feel of a blade against one of my wrists, then feel a tear and a snap as my binds are cut. I open my eyes to see Roman standing over the mess that used to be a man. Behind me, I hear Ares say, “It’s all right. You’re safe.”
I nod, but it’s an automatic movement. I can’t seem to keep my eyes off Roman, silhouetted in the moonlight, his hair mussed and falling into his face as he turns away from our attacker.
He kneels down to his daughter as Ares frees her next. He speaks softly to her in Russian and she bursts into tears, leaning into her father’s chest.
He came for us…
Or maybe he came for his daughter. I was just on the way.
I slowly peel the tape from my mouth and stand up. Roman glances at me, then to Sasha he says, “Come on, let’s get you home.”
He’s turning away before I can say anything. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. I’ve proven myself to be an outsider. My freedom is less of a mission and more of a courtesy.
I guess I should be thankful that he hasn’t decided to leave me here, or finish the job that Sergei undoubtedly would have gotten to eventually. Ares walks behind me as I walk behind Roman, who has an arm around his shivering child.
He’s a good father. Better than a lot of men. I’m happy that Sasha’s all right. I’m happy that she will always have him to count on in the end.
When we get out into the cool night air, I take in a deep breath, letting the air cool my lungs. In my mind, all I can think about is what comes next. I didn’t even really get the chance to unpack my clothes, so I guess all that will need to happen is for him to arrange to bring me my car.
There are shadows all around us stepping into the headlights of cars placed around us. It looks like stage lights. Like I missed some great theatrical showdown. Bodies lie on the sidelines, the bottoms of expensive shoes light up dully in the yellow lights…
The shadows come fully into the light. Roman’s men.
They surround us and speak rapid Russian to him.
He speaks back in clipped, precise tones.
As he talks to the closest one, he urges Sasha to follow him into the darkness.
She obeys, but not before looking over her shoulder cautiously as she moves away.
Roman gives me a quick glance, then over my head to Ares as he says in English, “Take her too. I’ll follow in a little while.”
“Got it.” Ares takes me by the hand and pulls me away. “Come on.”
I go with him, keeping my eyes forward. This is it. Whatever happens to me from this point on, our relationship is done.
Ares pulls up to the house and parks. We haven’t said anything since he put us both in the car and drove away from the scene. Honestly, I have nothing to say to him. I have nothing to say to anyone.
I look through the passenger’s side window at the house, my heart sinking into my stomach.
I’m not sure what I was expecting. I didn’t really have time to sit and fantasize about Roman riding in to save us on a white horse, sweeping me up in his arms, grateful that I am unharmed and alive.
I feel selfish to even be thinking like that when Sasha is much more deserving of that outcome than I’ll ever be.
“He wants you to stay here until he returns,” Ares says. “I know he didn’t say that to you directly, but it’s understood that’s what he expects.”
I look over at him, seeing him and not seeing him. I’m just doing my best not to start crying. “I don’t even have my car here,” I say to him. “I couldn’t leave if I wanted to.”
Ares nods shortly, then glances at the backseat where Sasha had been riding in silence. “Right, well, let’s get you inside.”
He gets out and walks around the car, opening both our doors for us. Sasha and I walk up the stairs and into the house together in solemn silence.
The house seems so much bigger than it usually does. Maybe because he’s not here. Maybe because I’ll be leaving soon. I walk through the living room, past the remnants of bloodstains where one of his men died trying to protect us all. So much bloodshed for loves that have long passed us by.
As we get to the second floor, Sasha turns to me. “Are you okay?”
I pause and look at her as if seeing her for the first time. She’s standing there, her big brown eyes inquisitive, filled with concern.
“I’m–I’m fine,” I stammer. I try to force a smile, but I can feel that it’s not working, so I just give up on it. “I’m going to go and take a shower. You should probably get some rest.”
“Doubt that,” she says with a little laugh.
“I don’t think I’m going to sleep again for a long time.
And anyway, I’m definitely not closing my eyes until Dad gets home.
” She pauses and tilts her head toward me.
“We’re really lucky, huh? Even with everything.
Even in this life. I think we’re pretty lucky. ”
“Sure,” is all I can say.
I leave and wander over to Roman’s room. As I step over the threshold, his scent covers me. Sweet, musky, warm… The way he smells ignites so much inside me. The feel of his arms around me, the cool feel of his kiss on the back of my neck…
It’s just as well. I was never cut out to be his queen… his prize. Being with him was just not meant to be.
I walk over to my suitcase, still packed. Still sitting silently by the bed. What a ride this whole thing has been.
I lift it onto the bed and open it, fishing out a change of clothes. My hands and arms are covered in the grit from the floor of the warehouse and my hair smells stale with the scents of dust and dirt. I’m looking forward to showering it off my skin.
I go into the master bathroom and start my shower. As I get undressed, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Faint bruises on my ass, scratches on my hips, signs of passion from our lovemaking.
Where on earth am I ever going to find another man like him? Am I going to have to walk through this life settling on some nice, safe accountant instead?
I step into the shower and let the warm water wash it all away. I’ll feel better once I’m all clean and in fresh clothes. It’ll be like I’m starting fresh, anyway.
The shower doesn’t last long. I’m just in there long enough to clean the dirt off my body and wash the smell of fear out of my hair.
Once I’m done, I get out and dry off, then get dressed.
The mirror shows the cloudy reflection of myself, wet hair falling in white waves around my face and down my shoulders, an old T-shirt and faded jeans. No makeup. No pretenses. Just me.
I tie my hair up in a quick bun and leave the bathroom, my old clothes under my arm. And I pause. Sasha’s standing by my suitcase, an odd look on her face. She looks up at me and smiles.
“You never unpacked,” she says.
Oh, dear. How do I even explain this to her? We were just getting to know one another, too.
“No,” I answer, walking my dirty clothes over to the suitcase. I tuck them into the large pocket under the lid to separate them, then I go to close it.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
A part of me had hoped that I would be gone by the time any of it would have to be explained, but I guess the burden is on. I suppose it should be since I caused this problem in the first place.
“Listen,” I tell her, “your father and I… It’s not really working out between us. I’m afraid I’m going to have to leave.”
Her eyes get big and a line of water appears in them. “No,” she says. “You can’t leave. He saved you.”
“Sasha.”
“You can’t, okay? You just got here. And my Dad, he needs you. He might not express like other people do, but he… he likes you a lot. He wants you to stay. He saved you the same way he did me. That means something.”
She’s so sweet. God, how I wish it were that simple. I take her gently by the shoulders. “It’s more complicated than that. Sometimes, liking someone just isn’t enough. Sometimes, things happen that you can’t get around.”
“Like what?” she asks me. “Because whatever it is, it can’t be all that bad. I can’t be—”
“I’m sorry, Sasha,” I say firmly. “It’s just the way it is. I can’t change it.”
There’s a knock at the door, breaking up our conversation. We both look over at it, the same little sliver of leftover fear from everything that’s happened sticking with us.
A familiar voice comes through the wood. “Ember? It’s Roman. Let me in.”