26. Andrie
Andrie
Iwas dreaming. I knew I was dreaming, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get myself to wake up or stop and change the outcome of what was about to happen.
I’d been soaking in the bath, knowing I had a few hours before Demi would be home.
I loved our shared baths. Bathing in the tiny tub with my man varied from heart-wrenching to playful but never restful, and sometimes, a girl just needed an hour or so for some self-care.
Earbuds in, music playing loud, my eyes closed against the cucumber eye mask as I laid against the towel I’d placed on the lip of the tub as a cushion, I sang along—badly, but I didn’t care.
These last few days—last few weeks, if I were being honest—had been magical and as close to perfect as finding the love of your life could get.
Even as I screamed at myself to open my eyes, the me in the dream never noticed the woman who slipped into the room, a large man skulking behind her. Not, at least, until the woman grabbed my wrist in a bruising grasp.
Startled, I dragged the mask away, gasping when I saw the cold, dead eyes drilling into me.
Despite never having met this woman, I knew instantly who she was based on those blue irises, so pale they almost looked white.
They were so similar to her son’s. But Demi’s were more and more often filled with love and softness.
Irina Petrov was a doll in looks and soul.
Despite her age, her skin was flawless, her hair shiny and perfect.
But there was nothing behind those eyes.
“You are the reason my son has been shirking his responsibilities? You?” Irina sneered, not waiting for me to get over my shock. “I will never understand the impulses of men,” she muttered, still speaking in Russian. “Fortunately, the fix is easy. Get up.” She said the last part in English.
Demi had warned me and tried to explain just how badly this could go, but I hadn’t listened—hadn’t wanted to believe the woman who’d birthed the man I loved could be so monstrous as the one he described. But I believed it now.
Knowing without a doubt I couldn’t let myself get taken, I didn’t hesitate. I grabbed the glass of wine I’d been sipping with my free hand and hit her on the side of the head. Then I pulled her hair, yanking her down, trying to pull her into the tub with me.
She screamed, letting me go to keep her balance. Instead of reaching for her head, she reached for my throat. Instinctively I tried to claw her fingers away as my eyes bulged. Instead, I fell back into the water. Taking advantage of the momentum, she pushed my head into the bottom of the tub.
The world started to spin, darkening even as I struggled. I broke the surface once, twice, barely getting a small breath of air before I was pushed below once again. The slippery surface, the water, and Irina were too much to overcome. My body heaved once more before everything went black.
I came to slowly, realizing my hands and feet were bound, and I was slung over a man’s shoulder.
“Put her in the trunk for now, then clear out that hovel. I don’t want a single trace of her remaining by the time he comes back. I’ll get the men at the transport to carry her in.”
The man bounced me a bit as he walked down a set of stairs that I knew led to the street. Woozy, I registered the scratchy feeling of his coat against my shivering skin, and I realized I was still naked.
“You’re not going to keep her? I thought you’d want to make an example—”
Irina cut him off, snapping. “This lesson isn’t for her; it’s for my son.
As satisfying as it would be to break her into something unrecognizable, keeping her here will just lead to temptation, and his father won’t be happy if something happens to him as a result of poor judgment.
With the deal we’re negotiating at the moment for the next shipment of American weapons, I can’t afford to have him be put out with us.
Besides, I’ve already got a buyer for this one, and he wants her …
unhandled. He’s purchased quite a few to bring out to the American west. If some bikers can’t tame her, they’ll kill her instead.
Either way, she’ll no longer be my problem. ”
I tried to scream … to fight … but I knew, just like the thousands of times I’d had this dream, the worst was yet to come …
I bolted upright so fast I almost head-butted Xander. “Easy, solnyshkuh. It’s just me. You’re safe.”
On a half-sob, half-shudder, I tore at the covers, the overwhelming need to run coursing through me.
Xander had other ideas, wrapping me in his arms the second I was free of the sheets and pulling me onto his lap as if I were an infant.
His arms were a band of iron as I struggled to pull myself completely back to present day.
“Shh,” he murmured, rocking while speaking in quiet tones, reassuring me I was safe, that he was there, and he wouldn’t let anything happen to me again.
At some point, I stopped fighting to get away from him and instead fought to get closer, trying to sink into him, get impossibly closer then we already were.
It wasn’t until I opened my eyes that I realized he was crying, his body trembling almost as much as mine. Sweat was beaded on his brow and chest, though his skin felt cold, as if he, too, had been pulled from a nightmare.
“Hey,” I said when I was able to pull myself together. “You alright? You look about as bad as I feel,” I joked weakly.
He looked gutted, as if his internal light had been snuffed out.
Blood running cold, I cupped his head in my hands, forcing his face closer to mine so he couldn’t miss my words.
“Xander, it was just a nightmare. I have them from time to time, both from what I lived through and from what my patients tell me in their sessions. It’s no big—” I cut myself off, not about to lie to him.
“It’s my fault,” he finally said, his voice hollow.
Rolling my eyes, I retorted. “Saying Irina Petrov’s name isn’t like conjuring up the devil—even if she is one of his disciples.
And,” my voice rose over his as he tried to speak, “even if you were my Demi himself, I’d tell you the only person responsible for what happened to me was Irina, and she’s about to get what’s coming to her for a lot more reasons than just me.
Besides, the price I paid for a love like that was well worth the nightmares. ”
Well, at least he was getting his emotions back, I thought as I found myself on the receiving end of an incredulous—and rage-filled—glare.
“Don’t ever tell me that being abducted, trafficked, and sold to the skin trade is worth the price of loving—” He broke off, cursing, rocking back against the headboard. The complete one-eighty in his emotions gave me whiplash, and I struggled to keep up.
“You don’t get to dictate my thoughts on the matter.” My spine stiffened so fast my back cracked. How dare he.
He must have realized he pushed me too far because he stopped mid-rant, taking in several deep breaths.
“I’m sorry. No matter what my thoughts on the matter, I shouldn’t yell at you. Especially when I know I’d make the same call.” Well, that stopped me in my tracks.
“I don’t want to fight. Not now. Come on, baby. Let’s run your hot water tank dry one more time tonight.”