55. Elanee
55
ELANEE
“ Y es, you have to eat healthier,” I argue with Dmitri and pluck the glass of whisky from his hand. “And no, you’re not drinking. You’re still recovering and have surgery scheduled in a few weeks. How are you not taking this seriously?” I ask him as I pop a hand on my hip and stand in front of him. He goes to sit in his office chair. I close his laptop. “And you’re not working. Your grandfather is looking after everything while you recover, so stop trying to snoop.”
He grunts in displeasure. He was in the hospital for a week, and we’ve only been back at his apartment for not even two days as he tries to busy himself already.
Dmitri tugs me into his lap. “Then keep me entertained in other ways.”
I push him back. “Dmitri Volkov, we are not having sex.”
A slow and sensual smile crosses his expression. “It can’t be all that bad if we remain in this seat.”
Warmth floods my core, as I consider it, but quickly shut that down. “You’re out of your mind if you think you could only ever have sex in one spot and one position.”
“Hmmm,” he says whimsically as he pushes back part of my hair. “We don’t know until we try.”
I give him a deadpan expression. “I quite enjoyed the part of you that slept so much in the hospital.”
“I quite enjoy the obedient side of you,” he says sensually.
My pussy throbs at the insinuation because this man will punish me in every position and most likely start bleeding internally because of it.
“Dmitri, I swear—”
The intercom to his apartment buzzes. My eyebrows furrow. “Were we expecting anyone?”
He casually shrugs. “I might’ve organized a little gift for you?”
I don’t trust the way he’s smiling because Dmitri Volkov is nothing but mischievous.
“You wouldn’t make a wounded man get the door, would you?” he says, pouting, and I roll my eyes.
“Oh, now all of a sudden, you acknowledge your recovery?” I mock but push off him as I go to answer the door. I answer the intercom and can see Layla in view. I buzz her up, briefly brush my fingers through my hair, and look down at my PJs.
Dmitri is smiling as he stands and leans expectantly against the bookshelf.
“You could’ve at least told me so I could change into something else,” I complain.
He crosses his arms. “You’ve been wearing those PJs for two days now. Nothing was making you change out of those, Cricket, not even your sister.”
Heat streaks my cheeks. Okay, so maybe I’d become too comfortable, but we’d mostly been sleeping. It felt like it’d been an eternity since either of us had slept so soundly.
I open the door, and my jaw immediately drops in shock. My stomach sinks with a twisted roll of emotion. My bottom lip begins to tremble, and I can’t hide the quiver in my voice. “Mom?” I choke out. “Dad?”
“Took your time to call,” my mother reprimands me but pulls me in for a hug. Tears spill over my cheeks as I stare at Layla in disbelief, and I hug my mother tightly back. I hadn’t seen them for five years. My father comes and hugs us both.
A swirl of guilt, relief, and pain flows through me.
Guilty for not speaking to them sooner.
Relief that I can hug them once again.
Pain to acknowledge all the time lost in between.
But now they’re here.
My mother pushes me back. “Let’s look at you, shall we.”
“Don’t think we’re not mad at you for not calling while in Russia or letting us know you’re back in town,” my father lectures.
Tears well and spill over my cheeks, and they look between themselves, concerned. I wipe my eyes as I smile, trying not to alarm them. That’s when Dmitri comes up behind me and wraps his hand around my mid-section, pulling me into him. My safe space. A reminder that everything will be okay.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt out and then try to calm my erratic heartbeat. “I’m really embarrassed for not calling sooner, and then time went on...”
“That’s not a good enough excuse,” My father says sternly.
“Patrick,” my mother reprimands and elbows him in the stomach.
“But at least we have her now,” Layla butts in.
Dmitri remains behind me, a solid foundation for my raging emotions. He presses a kiss to the top of my head. and my mother looks between us.
“I can’t say I’m surprised about you two, though.”
My eyebrows shoot up.
She rolls her eyes. “As if you two weren’t eye-fucking each other all throughout college.”
Layla and I snort on a mixed laugh. “Mom, did you just say eye-fucking?” Layla demands.
My father, however, seems unimpressed. In time, he’ll realize that Dmitri is my anchor. And although I will take this secret to the grave with me, they’ll see in due time how there is no other place for me to be other than Dmitri’s side.
“Would you like to come in for coffee?” I ask, gesturing for them to step inside. Because of all of this… this was the final piece I needed to try my best to heal and move on.
I look up at Dmitri, who seems awfully smug and impressed with himself, as my family walks into the entertainment room, and I close the door behind them.
“I hope I don’t regret this,” he grits, and I can’t help but notice my mother side glancing at him. He’s not wearing a shirt and is covered with bandages. An attempted alleyway robbery was the final verdict. But it doesn’t make it any less unsettling, I suppose. “I’m not overly fond of sharing you.”
I smile as I lean up on tippy toes in my slippers. The moment I do, he catches me by the elbow, taking the majority of my weight and any strain on my toes. Now that he knows, he instinctually helps me with ease. I press a kiss to his lips, falling harder than ever for this man.
My missing piece.
Even if I am a little broken.
Even if he is a little possessive.
Even when we have more obstacles to face.
We were in this together.
“Maybe you’ll get rewarded for this kind gesture afterward,” I whisper into his ear. His eyes darken, and I know exactly what he’s thinking. Parents or not, he wants to throw me over his shoulder and take me straight to the bedroom.
“You’re playing with fire, Cricket,” he warns.
“I’m not wearing any panties either.” I smile and try to hide the obvious arousal as I saunter away.
His gaze is hooded and dips straight to my ass, and I laugh. A belly laugh that I haven’t heard for the longest of times as I walk toward my family in the living room.
I would piece together these broken little pieces over time caused by a monster.
And healed by another.