Chapter 15
Lainey
“No!”
The sound penetrated my eardrums and my eyes immediately flew open. Gasping, raw fear tore through me as the sleepiness faded, a flash of memories from only hours before crowding in.
Where the hell was I?
A skittering of emotions brought a harsh chill.
Breathe. Just breathe.
Darkness.
It was suddenly suffocating. Blinking several times, I tried to figure out what had awakened me.
Movement next to me was followed by a stark moan. Sasha.
I must have fallen asleep. Everything was okay. We were here together.
Just breathe.
The ugliness of the day instantly sent a chill through me. No, I couldn’t go through that again. Cinching my eyes shut, I shifted my thoughts to the man sleeping next to me like a giant who’d finally managed to rest.
After the shower, he’d wrapped me in one of the luxurious hotel robes and we’d sat outside on the deck overlooking the city drinking cognac. Just talking.
About anything and nothing.
But we’d consciously avoided talking about the monsters inside the house.
Then he’d carried me into the bedroom where our passion had exploded all over again.
Another moan and he thrashed, fighting with the covers. Anxious, I turned on the light on the nightstand before scooting toward him.
His face was covered in sweat and he was tossing back and forth in his sleep. “Sasha.” When he didn’t respond to my voice right away, I placed my hand on his arm. He was so tense, his muscles strained. Even his jaw was clenched so tightly I feared he’d crack a tooth.
He mumbled but was still completely asleep. Even his hands were fisted. What in the hell was he dreaming about?
“No. I’ll fucking kill them.”
Now I was concerned. “Sasha. Wake up. Come on. You need to wake up. You’re having a terrible—”
I was unable to finish my frantic words. He reared up from the bed, twisting, and without hesitation, his fingers snapped around my throat and pinned me to the bed.
His entire face was twisted in rage, his nose and brow scrunched as he bared his teeth. “Going to fucking kill you.”
While he spouted off a string of words in Russian, I struggled to breathe. His hold was tight, his fingers digging into my neck. There was no air.
I fought him, struggling with everything I had, but the covers kept my body twisted in a knot.
Stars floated in my periphery of vision and within seconds, the light begin to fade. I had both hands wrapped around the wrist of the one arm holding me down, but there was no way of breaking free.
There was also no recognition in his eyes. Nothing. They were shimmering like glass, his pupils completely dilated. He yanked me off the pillow, immediately shoving me down. His fingers dug even harder into my neck.
The light continued to fade. I sensed I was losing consciousness.
“Sa… sha.” Somehow, I managed the single word.
Suddenly, something snapped within him, his eyes opening wide.
With a hard jerk, he pulled away, almost tumbling to the floor.
“Oh, my God. Lainey. Lainey. Oh, Jesus. What the fuck did I do?”
Coughing, I sputtered as tears slipped from my eyes. When he dared lean over me, I slammed my fists against his chest with what little strength I had left. My vision was still foggy and my mind was incapable of processing what had just happened.
“Get off.” I couldn’t stop crying. He’d been dead asleep. He wasn’t trying to hurt me. But I knew that this wasn’t the first time he’d had a terrible nightmare and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. “Please. Just…”
Whatever hell he’d been through had changed him for the rest of his life.
And there was nothing I could do about it.
He took the hint, climbing off and backing away. He was still tense with his face twisting from the horror of what he’d done.
With my hand wrapped around my throat, I stumbled backwards toward the bathroom. I wiped my tears with my other hand and he watched everything I was doing intently.
Without talking to me, he grabbed his trousers, jerking them on as if needing to head to a fire.
The truth was he wanted to get away from me.
“I’m sorry, Lainey. You have no idea how sorry I am.”
With that he walked out.
Stunned, I moved into the bathroom, barely able to flick on the light. With my head down, I placed my hands on the surface of the counter almost as if in slow motion. My breathing was still ragged, wheezing from being constricted.
He didn’t mean to hurt you. He’s not like that. He was dreaming.
Of course he hadn’t meant to hurt me. The man had already confessed he’d burn down the city and kill anyone who touched me.
I knew it in my mind, but my heart was a little off, a little distanced from the moment.
I squeezed my eyes shut, uncertain how to react or what to say. At least I could breathe again.
When I managed to find the courage, I lifted my head, stretching my neck. With my entire body still shaking, I pressed my fingers against my throat, wincing as soon as I did. I’d often been told I had tender skin, capable of bruising easily.
That had been tested when Damien had punched me in the face. I looked a mess. By the next morning, I’d had a shiner that could compete with a boxer.
What in the hell had I gotten myself involved in? Maybe I should have fought my way out the door. This wasn’t the life I’d wanted. None of it.
The price of fame had been too high. I’d lost too much of myself.
But the girl inside, the one who’d dreamt about a house full of kids, a couple of dogs, and a loving husband had seen a glimmer of hope.
Even with a man I should fear.
I studied my reflection and tried to figure out what I should do.
Sasha had shut down. I could easily tell that.
Whatever he’d been dreaming, I had a feeling he wasn’t used to it.
But the nightmare involved his past. I was certain of it.
I was no psychologist, but the events of earlier in the day had brought back a tragedy.
The man was a ticking timebomb. If he didn’t talk about what had occurred, one day he’d go too far and hurt someone he cared about.
After wringing my hands, I knew that I should just leave him alone and when the dust settled, return to my life.
That would be better for both of us in a way that hurt me deep inside.
Yet I couldn’t.
I wasn’t a quitter and if I shut down on him, he’d retreat into a shell he’d never return from. Was I asking myself why? Maybe a little, but my heart gave me the answer. I cared about him. Was I in love? No. That wasn’t possible. I simply felt something that I’d begun to believe didn’t exist.
With fire in my belly, I retreated from the bathroom, deciding I’d riffle through his things. He’d had the advantage of grabbing a duffle bag, tossing in a few clothes.
I had the simple dress that had blood on it, a piece of clothing I never wanted to see again.
After finding a tee shirt, I quickly slid into it, ensuring my butt was covered. I should have known better. He was several inches taller. The shirt was a dress.
I glanced at the small clock on the nightstand. It was a little after three in the morning. With any luck, Nina would remain asleep for a few hours.
When I slipped from the room, I was caught by just how quiet it was. In bare feet, I padded toward the living room. He wasn’t there. The suite also had a small kitchen, but it was empty, with no sign of him. Maybe he’d taken a walk or headed downstairs to the casino that stayed open all night.
Frustrated, I returned to the living room, uncertain what to do.
I had my phone and his number. Should I just call him?
No, he hadn’t taken his phone with him. Resigned that I would get nowhere tonight, something caught my eye.
A bottle was missing from the bar in the corner of the room. He was here.
As soon as I approached the doors leading to the deck, I could feel him deep within, the crackle of electricity unmistakable.
Very carefully, I opened the door and slipped outside, finding him almost instantly. He was sitting in the dark, although the glow of forever neon lights provided a backdrop that allowed for more than simple silhouettes.
He was splayed in a chair with his legs open wide, his back slumped down.
The bottle of booze was placed on his knee with his hand around the neck.
I could tell he knew I was there by his rapid breathing.
Without looking at me, he took a long pull on the liquor, never blinking as he stared at the lights of the city.
Remaining quiet, I sat down next to him. He didn’t move or acknowledge me, but I could hear his molars grinding.
While the silence was unnerving, at least being with him helped me feel some sense of tethering with him.
Our connection wasn’t completely lost. It was funny how my patience was tested.
I’d always thought I was extremely patient.
I’d had the training early in my life from being a babysitter.
Then with working at a daycare to make extra money.
When I’d become an elementary teacher, I’d definitely been required to find a way of keeping my cool.
That didn’t mean I hadn’t gone home and had a glass of wine.
Even thirty screaming kids were better than sitting next to a sulking man with a bad attitude. After he took another gulp, I took the bottle from his hand, purposely forcing our fingers to touch.
I could tell he was watching me carefully as I took a sip. In trying not to wince from both the taste and the tenderness of my neck, I drew a slight huff from him. I kept my gaze toward the city, trying to act as if I didn’t have a care in the world.
I’d never be an actor, but I thought I did a pretty good job.
He wasn’t happy with me when I set the bottle on the table far enough away from him, he’d need to lean in front of me to grab it.
Which he did seconds later.
Undeterred, I placed my hand on his, stopping him.
“Don’t.”
“Don’t tell me what to do, Lainey. You’re not my keeper.”
“Maybe that’s exactly what you need. A keeper.”