Chapter 24 Danica
DANICA
Vadim leaves and I go straight for the vodka.
Maybe it's not a good idea, but the constant demand on my nervous system has left me feeling like I'm on a death yo-yo from hell.
I need something to calm my nerves and help me sleep.
He said it could be hours until he gets back, and I have no clue what's required to dispose of a body.
A shudder runs through my entire body, shaking me so hard, I almost drop the bottle of vodka and head for the front door to lock it.
Petr may not be around tonight, but I know there are plenty of men just as scary who are.
Who knows what creep or sleazeball might be hunting Vadim and come looking for him, only to find me.
I set the lock and the deadbolt and hope Vadim remembered to grab his key, then I go to the bedroom with my liquor to hide.
Dusan's debts have haunted me for so long, I don't know what it feels like to be free of them.
I thought I did, just three hours ago when I was enjoying a quiet evening at work for a change.
Then Petr decided to follow me, which I had feared for months, not just today, and all of it came crashing back.
I had no clue Petr worked for Marko. He never seemed like the sort of man to deal drugs and help a loan shark.
I knew he wasn't a pleasant man, but I'm shocked to find out Marko promised me to him like I was some whore on the street corner he could pay off.
It's frightening to think a man could claim ownership over me, though that's what happened with Vadim.
Pushing open the bedroom door, I try to decide if I want lights or not, but right now, the idea of hiding in darkness seems favorable.
So I leave them off as I kick off my shoes and chug the vodka in three long pulls that have my stomach burning and me coughing a little.
I sputter around until I set the bottle on the nightstand and crawl into bed, then pull the covers over my fully clothed body and press my eyes shut.
All of this, and it isn't even Vadim's world that's the scary one.
It's mine. My brother's past haunts me while he lives happily somewhere else, probably pissing someone else off and racking up more debt.
But I'm the one suffering, being hounded by his ghosts, and all the while, Vadim is trying to save me.
When all of this started, I feared him and the life he was dragging me into.
Now I know that without him, I would definitely be some man's slave if not his whore, and maybe I'd be dead.
Whether Vadim was here or not, Marko was going to call in those debts.
And without being able to pay, who knows what he'd have made me do?
My body feels heavy with exhaustion and emotion. The panic only makes it worse as it wears off. I find myself so tired I can barely hold my eyes open but unable to sleep due to fear gnawing at me.
Vadim has killed for me now, not just in self-defense, though I know he's probably not a stranger to it.
Marko took so much of his money too, probably more than he's ever paid for anything other than a home in his whole life, and Vadim never blinked an eye at it.
This man is serious when he says something is his, and he's claimed me fully.
What am I supposed to do with that knowledge?
He wasn't kidding at all when he asked me if I'd think about moving to Russia with him. I believe that now. The lengths to which he's gone to protect me and make me feel secure aren't something a man does for just any woman.
This may have started out as a means to an end, just playing a part in his life to get him what he wants.
But it changed somewhere along the way, and I'm not just his convenient yet reluctant wife.
I'm the woman he values more than his own life—he proved that when he took on an armed man with nothing but a shovel and the determination to make sure I'm safe.
A tear pricks my eyes and then runs down my temple into my hair.
Vadim saved me. And he did it to his own hurt. That cut wasn't just a scratch. Petr almost killed him tonight, and I would never forgive myself if he died because of me.
I swipe my eyes and turn to my side, feeling the alcohol begin to kick in. No dinner again means it hits me harder, and I hope to God it takes me so far under, I can just sleep tonight. Maybe dream of moving to Russia with Vadim, because if he asks me again, my answer is yes, hands down.
Any man who will kill for me and rush into a fight without thinking about it twice is a man I never want to push away.
I'm almost asleep when I hear the front door, and it makes me jolt awake. The hairs on my arms stand up and goosebumps pepper my flesh, but I hear the familiar jingle of keys and the deadbolt being turned, and I relax a little. Vadim's back, which means his job is done and I can rest safely now.
But I don't want him to think I've been waiting up, so I lie perfectly still as he walks through the bedroom to the bathroom.
I listen to him empty his bladder, then turn on the shower.
He spends forever getting cleaned up, and the steamy air permeates the bedroom, carrying the scent of his bodywash and aftershave.
And finally, the lights flick off and he climbs into bed with me, curling around me under the covers.
I turn over my shoulder and breathe him in for a second and he pulls me into his chest.
"I'm sorry for waking you," he says softly, pressing a kiss to my shoulder.
"I was awake. I can't sleep," I slur, and realize the vodka has a stronger grip on me than I thought. But I'm nice and relaxed and I don’t mind that I’m drunk around him. I trust him fully, which isn't something I can say about many people.
After a day like that, he's probably tense and probably wants a means to relax too. I slide his hand down to my core and push his fingers against my clit, offering myself to him, but he resists and wraps his hand around my middle. Tucked snugly against his chest, I feel tears well up.
"I'm sorry," I whimper, not knowing what to say. He should never have had to kill for me. He offered to walk me home and I refused. It could've been prevented.
"Hey, shh," he soothes as he kisses my shoulder again. "You don't have anything to be sorry for. I didn't get in this bed for your body, okay? I want to make sure you're okay."
His words only make me cry harder. It's not enough that he kills a man in cold blood to keep me safe, now he wants to make sure I'm okay? Who is this man I'm married to and how did I end up in a place so upside-down from everything I thought it was?
"You're safe now, okay? Marko and his men will never hurt you again. I will make sure no one ever touches you like that again."
Vadim's grip on me tightens like he's trying to physically hold me back from feeling the aftershocks of Petr's attack, and it's working.
The sobs slow to a trickle of tears and then to sniffles.
And when I feel calm, I turn on my back and stare up at him.
The room isn't quite as bright as it was a few nights ago, but I can see his face clearly.
"I don't understand why you did that… You killed him for me, to protect me.
But I'm not really your wife, Vadim. In a few weeks your job will be finished and you'll go home, and I will be here and alone.
It's not worth it." I search his face for any hint that he feels regret for what he did, but his hand cradles my cheek and he speaks with conviction.
"I'd do it again in a heartbeat. Your life is valuable to me and I care about your safety.
Alright? You needed me, and I was there.
" He stops short of saying what I want him to say, but I understand what he's communicating.
He cares about me more than just his asset and he doesn't know how to say it.
"But you'll be going home…" I prompt, hoping he will ask me to go back to Russia with him again, because this time, there will be no hesitation in my answer, but he presses a firm kiss to my forehead and leaves his lips lingering there.
"You are my wife, and as long as you're my wife, it will be my duty to protect you. Do you understand?" His forehead presses to mine and he says, "And I don't plan on divorcing you anytime soon."
The way he says that makes me relax a little more.
He pulls back and I curl into his chest as his arms wrap around me.
I didn't see his clothing as he came in.
I don't know if he was out digging a grave covered in dirt, or if he put Petr through a wood chipper or something.
I don't really want to know how a man like Vadim gets rid of a body or if I should even ask him.
There are parts of him so scary, I can't fathom seeing them.
Then there are parts that are so tender and fierce at the same time, I can’t imagine life without him by my side now that I've adjusted to his being here. I want him around me, and I want to be able to rely on him when I need him.
"You should quit that diner now, alright?
I know the threat is over, but you really don't need to work.
I'll take care of everything you need." I hear the grogginess in his voice as he yawns and snuggles down under the blankets.
And I, myself, am feeling the pull of sleep, though mine is alcohol induced.
Quitting the diner might be a change that could benefit me, though if he doesn't ask me to move to Russia with him again, I'm not sure how I'll support myself when he leaves.
And being married to a murderer, no matter the reason, still doesn't sit well with me.
It's good that I know he'd happily give it all up and do a different, less violent job if he had the chance, but I don’t know how he'd ever do that.
I'm busy playing the pros versus the cons as my body grows heavy and starts to drift into sleep. I have plenty to think about for days, even if I do quit the diner. And for tonight, having his arms around me is all I need.
Tomorrow will come soon enough.