24. Anya
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
ANYA
His eyes burned with that same old heat, but something else lived there too: an irrational obsession. He wasn’t the same man anymore. And I wasn’t the same woman.
The dark sky outside matched the darkness in him. Anxiety ran rampant through me, my heart hammering against my ribs.
Don’t think about our love. Don’t think about all we shared.
I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping it would quiet my mind.
It didn’t.
The images came anyway. The scent of my husband, the way he’d always ensured my every wish—appropriate and otherwise—came true. It made my body shudder. He’d given me so much pleasure, and the devil knew how to be gentle. In fact, that was the fatal part.
Fear scraped up my spine. Of my own weakness, and how easily I caved to my ex-husband. I couldn’t hurt my family again.
And still, some days I wished it could just be the two of us. No ghosts of our parents, no lies, and no life-altering mistakes.
But obsession and cruelty ruled Jetmir.
Even knowing that, I craved the feel of his hands on my skin. When he wrapped one around my throat and my body leaned into him, the same slow heat pooled low in my belly.
I turned onto my side and stared out the French doors toward the balcony, peering at the stars scattered above.
I focused on my breathing, on memories of our short but turbulent marriage. Yes, he’d caused irreparable damage. But I could never forget he was my devil. One who made incredible love to me.
The first thing I registered once I peeled my eyes open was Jetmir sitting in the loveseat, his breathing strong and even.
Even in sleep, he seemed tense. His expression harsh and his brow furrowed, as if he contemplated the next move in his sleep.
He breathed darkness with every inhale; I felt it on my skin and in my soul.
Jetmir Thorne Volkov-Tijuana was my beginning. And I feared he’d be my end too. No matter how much I fought it. Oceans and continents apart would never be enough to forget him.
My eyes flickered to the window. It was still dark out, not surprising. Over the years, my sleep patterns had changed. I slept less, and when I managed to steal a few hours, my dreams were restless. The moon threw a glow over the ocean, making it appear beautiful but also deadly.
Kind of like this man, I thought silently.
“Contemplating something, my angel?” Jetmir taunted.
My eyes flashed to him. He shifted slightly and his face lingered in the shadows.
“It’s creepy to watch people while they sleep,” I breathed. “How long have you been sitting there, huh?” My heart raced in my chest as I watched his familiar but somehow older, more exhausted face twist.
Did I do that to him? I wondered with a sharp piercing in my heart.
“You were tossing and turning,” he answered, running a hand across his face. “I wasn’t sure if you were having a nightmare.”
I closed my eyes for a moment, cursing my stupid body for being incapable of sleeping without my husband. We were married for one month, but apparently it made me an addict for life. I couldn’t rest without his body next to me and his heartbeat under my ear.
When I opened my eyes, it was to Jetmir watching me, but this time there was no smugness in his expression. God, this would be so much easier without all the fucked-up decisions and baggage weighing us down.
“Who hurt you?” His demand was uttered in a low voice, full of threat, though it wasn’t aimed at me.
“You.”
He flinched, reeling back. “I never hit you.”
“Nobody ever hit me, but you hurt me,” I spat. “All my nightmares revolve around you and my brother losing his sight.”
Tense silence filled the space between us and a haunted expression flickered in his eyes before he snapped the cold mask back into place.
I hated how he made me feel. Vulnerable and breakable.
Jetmir stood up and I realized he still wore the same clothes, though his shirt was carelessly unbuttoned and his tie hung loose.
My eyes locked on his body and my fingers dug into my palms, fighting the urge to reach out and touch him. I still remembered how hard his muscles were under my palms and how warm his skin felt under my fingertips.
I gave my head a subtle shake. It had to be the result of drugs. My mind still wasn’t clear and those walls I built trembled under the influence.
“I hate you,” I rasped the lie I told myself so many times over the past years. I should hate him, but damn it, I didn't.
Jet moved closer, then sank to his haunches, our faces only inches apart. This close, his gaze was blacker than I’d ever seen it before.
“You can hate me. Love me. Kill me. I’ll tolerate anything you dish my way, as long as you are with me.”
“You’re crazy,” I breathed.
“For you… yes.” He shouldn’t be saying that. He should be hating me too. I almost killed him with the nut allergy. He ended up not having an EpiPen, and if his sister hadn’t showed up, he would have died. “I’m here to stay.”
“God, we can’t… Gabriel’s eyes—”
“I’ll fix it all, my angel,” he murmured, brushing his nose against mine. “But make no mistake. You’re mine forever this time.”
I sucked in a harsh breath. “My family will come for me.”
“If anyone tries to take you, I’ll skin them alive.”
And that right there told me everything. Trust, once dead, could not be resurrected.