Chapter 21
?
Luna
Anuska leads me to an upstairs room to catch a few hours of sleep. And, although I could have sworn I wouldn't be able to sleep tonight, the discussion with Roman, the attack, my body screaming for rest, and all the other emotions make me collapse the moment my head hits the pillow. I don't know how long it takes me to fall asleep, but it seems almost instant.
I walk mechanically while leaving the building, with Aidan and Igor following me.
Aidan wears a grave expression while staring straight ahead. The 'artist' who started carving me like a piece of wood takes out his car keys and shoves me into the back seat.
I could have screamed for help, but I'm convinced he would have killed me on the spot and abandoned me there. Before any neighbor could react or police could arrive, I would have been dead already. I have no doubt.
"Where are we going?" Aidan's the one who asks. His voice has a slightly elevated tone, and only because I know him do I know he's panicked. His shoulders are rigid and I see every wrinkle etched deeper on his face.
"Damien's at the club," he answers.
A single thought gnaws at my mind: where to get fifty thousand dollars to pay his debt. If I survive this night, I need to find a solution. Aidan will never leave me alone.
The policeman's laugh still echoes in my mind from when he ridiculed me after I told him my ex-boyfriend was harassing me.
"You'll make up," he told me when I showed him the hundred calls and messages where he insisted I answer him.
The same type of officers were the ones who convinced me to withdraw my complaints.
"If it goes to court, it'll be a show for years!"
What stopped me from taking him to court was not wanting to ruin his life - he was already struggling to keep a job. A record would've killed any chance of employment. Look where being nice got me - now I'm wondering if I'll live to see tomorrow.
The car pulls up to a club with a green neon sign reading 'Red Poppy.' Bass thumps from inside, but instead of the front entrance, Aidan and I are steered around back, where another guy nods at the one crushing my hand.
After he punches in a code, the door clicks open.
We're herded down a tunnel, where the music turns muffled. A door opens on the right into an office with soft lighting.
Behind the desk, there's some stone artwork on the wall with a bookshelf beside it. Above, a chandelier looks like tangled stars. Two guys dressed like my hand-crusher stand by the door, with another sprawled on the couch.
I instantly know Damien is the guy behind the desk. He's talking to someone on the phone, and when his eyes land on us, he hangs up without explanation.
I can't help but look at him, given he's the man who will decide what happens to me, and at first glance...I'm in trouble. His brown eyes study me from head to toe. He's dressed like the other men in a leather jacket, jeans, and boots. His hair is dark, and I could swear it has some red reflections in this light, but I'm probably not seeing clearly anymore.
Although he's an attractive man, that's not what matters now, but rather how the atmosphere in the room has become suffocating, heavy with anticipation for what's to come. Even the air seems to have stopped, no one daring to breathe.
"Explain."
That's all he says while his gaze fixes on Igor.
"You wanted Aidan Greyworth found. Well, I found him," Igor announces in his deep baritone, and I feel my entire body shudder at the name.
My reaction doesn't escape Damien, who narrows his eyes and runs a hand through his hair.
"I see. Who's she?"
"How do you think I convinced him to appear?" Igor asks.
"Damien, if you give me one more week..." Aidan tries to intervene, but one look from Damien silences him.
The adults are talking now.
"I see that, Igor. What I don't understand is why I have a trembling woman in my office, with marks from your hands on her arms and blood on my carpet," Damien emphasizes, focusing on me again.
I don't know what to tell him. This man knows what his employee is capable of and doesn't seem bothered that I'm bleeding on his carpet. When they took me from my home, I didn't have time to change, and my shirt is probably soaked with blood from Igor's masterpiece.
"It was the only way to make him appear," my attacker answers in what I could swear is a...proud tone.
There's a moment of silence where no one moves. I see a vein pulse in Damien's neck, and when he speaks, it takes me a few seconds to realize he's addressing me.
"Where did he hurt you?"
My eyes grow wide with fear, my tongue turns to lead, and I feel a weight on my chest, but I close my eyes and whisper.
"On my back."
In five seconds, Damien is behind me, lifting my shirt. I'm surprised by how gently he touches the material, probably seeing how much blood covers it.
I feel his breath on my neck, and then Igor releases my hand.
"What did I say about your moments of creativity, Igor?" Damien's voice drops, low and threatening.
A spark of hope enters my soul at Damien's tone. Maybe it's not so bad.
"I asked you a question!"
This time Damien moves in front of Igor and, pulling out a knife, places it against his throat. Igor swallows, and the knife cuts superficially, causing a drop of blood to slide down his neck.
"He made me wait longer than necessary," is all he answers.
A scream catches in my throat as the memory of the first cuts invades my mind, and I can almost feel his blade on my skin again. The pain when he cut through flesh to satisfy the madness in his head.
The Polish mafia boss doesn't ignore my reaction. He comes to me, using his knife blade to lift my chin until our eyes meet.
I know tears fill my eyes as I try to convey all the torment I've endured. His eyes burn like flames. I see the moment understanding crosses his face, and with a single nod, he turns to Igor and slits his throat with two quick movements.
My gaze follows Igor as he falls to his knees, clutching his throat while blood seeps between his fingers. He tries to form words, but Damien cuts him off.
"I wouldn't bother if I were you. There's no room in this organization for two unstable men. My presence is enough."
I'm transfixed by the man dying before me and the feeling that washes over me. It's not fear. It's not terror. It's joy. Relief.
What the hell is happening to me? Since when do I rejoice at a man's throat being cut a foot away from me?
"Now, let's return to what matters. Aidan...where's my money?" Damien's voice turns light and relaxed.
Aidan stares at the man now lying with empty eyes in a pool of blood on the carpet. None of Damien's men move toward him. Not an inch. Even the guy on the couch merely glances between us and his boss.
"AIDAN!" Damien's shout echoes.
My ex swallows twice and straightens his spine before answering.
"I need a few days." Though he tries to control it, his voice trembles.
"Do I look like a bank, you moron?"
Aidan's eyes widen, and I can't suppress a small smirk at his expression. He's terrified of this man. For a second, I imagine Damien cutting Aidan's throat too. You're not that kind of person. God.
"I don't have fifty thousand dollars right now. Give me something to do for that money. Whatever you need, I'll do it." The desperation in his tone is impossible to miss.
"The problem with that, Aidan, is that you'll set a precedent. If I wanted that, I would have hired you, but I know what a rotten hyena you are, so no. But thanks for the offer.”
When his gaze falls on me, I know what he's going to ask before he speaks. The decision is instant. I don't know if what I'm about to say will cost me more than money, but this man is my only hope now.
"I can pay you his debt. With one condition." My voice is calm and neutral. I almost applaud myself for how confident I sound when even my soul trembles.
Damien starts smiling and looks at his men while laughing.
"A condition? Darling, which part of this situation gave you the impression you're here to negotiate?"
I realize he's mocking me, trying to humiliate me. I know I'm not here as a guest, but something in me believes this man is my lifeline now.
"The fact that you killed Igor for what he did to me."
I know the message is received. Maybe he saw my wound, but I also saw the pain in his eyes. For a fraction of a second, it was there. And it's the only thing I can cling to.
"OUT! EVERYONE!" he tells his men and Aidan, without taking his eyes off me. He turns to stare down Aidan, who seems shocked by everything happening, and adds, "Make sure he doesn't run."
"Sweetie..."
But before Aidan can say anything more, the guy who was on the couch lifts him by his jacket collar and drags him out of the office.
When the door closes behind the last person and I'm finally alone with Damien, I lift my head.
"I'll pay his debt, but I want you to scare him. Make sure he never comes looking for me again." I throw all the words out in one breath.
I raise my eyes and see him looking at me as if he doesn't understand where I came from.
"Please," I whisper and feel tears threatening to fall.
"We have a deal, tygrysek," he says after analyzing my face.
?
A touch on my arm startles me and I try to force my eyes open, but the lack of sleep lately makes the task increasingly difficult.
"Sorry to wake you, but it's time for your medicine.” Anuska says, still in her robe.
"You didn't have to trouble yourself for me. I could have taken it later. Haven't you slept at all?" I ask, feeling so guilty.
I'm in my boss's house, sleeping in one of his bedrooms, and now I'm making the poor people who work for him wait on me.
"I don't sleep easily when Roman is away."
It's the only answer she offers while handing me a water glass and a pill that, from what I remember, is for pain.
I take it without protest and given the dream, the memory, I just had, I prefer not to return to sleep. I look at the clock and see two hours have passed since Roman left. I know he's probably talking with the man who broke into my place.
Talking…what a joke.
If Roman has even a fraction of the madness that Igor or Damien had, I'm sure he's not just talking to him, but somehow it doesn't bother me. And that irritates me. I'm not a bad person, I never wanted harm to anyone, and although my stupid kindness brought me where I am today, I regret not being that same empathetic person. Yet I can only think about my attacker, locked up somewhere with Roman, and hope my boss makes him suffer.
"You know, I understand what he saw in you," Anuska says as she sits on the bed.
"At least one of us does."
"You have a resilience in your eyes, Luna. And sometimes that's how you recognize your other half. When your suffering complements his, when the void in you speaks to the void in him," she says and takes my hand.
I feel the void she's talking about; I've been carrying it constantly for months trying in vain to fill it with something. Work, Roxy, with hope that in the future there will be something there, not that black hole that I feel absorbs everything into darkness. I can't deny the attraction to Roman. It's there and it's the only crumb of life I've had lately. It's a feeling similar to intuition, where something in my being simply recognizes something in his.
I offer her a smile and squeeze her hand gently. I don't know what feelings Roman has for me, but I'm not naive. You don't protect someone you don't care about; you don't bring someone into your home when you don't feel affection.
"Your phone rang several times," she tells me and puts my phone on the nightstand.
It has to be Roxy. As I reach for it, Anuska mentions making me something to eat - so the pills don't hit an empty stomach too hard. Roxy answers almost instantly.
"Luna, are you at the station?"
Her worried tone sends guilt rushing through me. I can't lie to Roxy - not when she's the only one who knows everything, even about Damien and Igor.
“Don't worry,” I sigh then tell her everything.
Every single detail. When I finish, it feels like I've pushed a boulder off my chest.
“So let me get this straight. You're at your boss's house - who, by the way, looks like he walked straight out of every woman's fantasy - and he's got his people guarding you. And when he found out you were in trouble, he swooped in like some dark knight and carried you away. Please explain why you're on the phone with me instead of climbing that man like a tree? I swear to God, Luna, if my calls are cockblocking you right now, I'll kill you myself!”
Her tone's so light and casual, I almost laugh at her ridiculousness.
“How are you just glossing over the whole mafia thing?”
There's a pause before she answers.
“Luna, you got carved up in your apartment by some psycho making wooden dolls, made a deal with a Polish mob boss, moved, found a new job, and now another guy's after you?”
I know it's a rhetorical question because I’ve been asking myself the same thing.
I never escaped. It was just an illusion.
"Babe, I know you didn’t want this, but Luna, you're already in this world. At least this time you have someone on your side. Someone who seems willing to do a lot to ensure you're okay. But if you don't feel anything for him..."
"It's not about that," I interrupt in a whisper.
A confession I'm making out loud for the first time.
"OMG, I knewww it! How could you not fall for those eyes. And that protective mafia vibe. Where do I find one? No, actually don't tell me. With my luck, I'd end up with Igor's twin brother." And now we're both laughing.
This is why Roxy knows everything about me. Because she helps me sort through my thoughts.
Anuska enters the room with a sandwich, and I tell my best friend we'll talk later.
"Listen to your instinct, Luna," is all she says before hanging up, and I know exactly what my intuition is screaming.
That I'm safe. That for a reason he doesn't even understand himself, he has this fascination with me. And that as long as he's beside me, everything will be okay.
At that moment, the door opens and he appears in the doorway. His sweater is stained in several places with scarlet spots, and I know it's not paint. And on his neck, there are traces of coagulated blood.
I don't know when my legs get out of bed, but I rush toward him and take him in my arms. It's the only logical action I can find, and although I'm wearing just an oversized T-shirt and socks, I don't care if Anuska sees me. I need to feel him close and convey exactly what my words can't. One hand spreads across my back while the other gently lifts my face from his chest. Even with those few inches between us, I can see the dark shadows under his eyes - those stormy gray eyes that always look like they're hiding a tempest.
"Leave us," he says in a neutral tone without taking his gaze from me, and I feel Anuska pass by us and close the door.
All I feel right now is that I want to stay pressed against him.
"Are you okay?" he asks, almost in a whisper, while my mouth is so close to his that I feel like every breath of mine automatically becomes his too.
I want him to kiss me. But I know he won't make that move.
"You're the one with blood on you."
I try for a relaxed tone. I literally can't take my eyes off him. The way my heart beats because he's near should alarm me, but I don't care.
"It's not mine."
That's all he offers, and I nod slightly because I know what he's telling me. It's his way of testing me to see if I'll run at his confession.
The old Luna would've run, no matter how much she wanted him. But this Luna knows something different - when you're living in a world of monsters, it helps to have one watching your back.
Roxy is right. I ran from this world, and somehow it still caught up with me.
When I'm with Roman, my mind calms down. This man, who I know came from torturing someone, but who compliments my perfume. This man, who I'm almost certain told Felix how I like my coffee even though it's still a mystery how he knows that in the first place. This man, who held me in his arms and whispered my name until I recovered from my panic attack.
So, I do something the old Luna wouldn't have done. I do something for the current Luna, who feels nothing but warmth when she looks at this man. Both physical and emotional.
And I don't give him time to back away when I rise on my tiptoes and softly touch my lips to his. His entire body goes rigid, and I love that I have this kind of power over him. Trying to calm my own nerves, I take his lower lip between my teeth.
That's all it takes for his gaze to become a hurricane and envelop me completely. I close my eyes because the sensation of the kiss overwhelms me. He overwhelms me.
I thought the first kiss might have been luck. That the next kiss couldn't possibly be this complete. To feel him seemingly fusing his lips with mine through this kiss. How my soul wants to leave my body just to get closer to his.
It feels like we've done this so many times before by how in sync we are. I feel like I've kissed him a thousand times by how his lips seem to know mine.
Maybe in another life.
It's the only thought that crosses my mind while his hands cup my neck, coordinating the assault on me. His tongue dancing with mine, his touch on my neck, and all the emotions from tonight make me release a sound somewhere between a moan and a sigh. I know we'll need to break the moment to breathe, and when it happens, I feel the need to draw air into my lungs as if I've been underwater for a long time.
And that's exactly how I feel. My head is light and I'm convinced my legs will give out. This man doesn't just kiss, he devours. His lips caress every inch of skin, seemingly trying to memorize this moment.
"Mine," he declares.
Although he says it in an authoritative tone, I feel the note of question in his declaration. And I know it's his way of leaving me a gap in the door to escape if I want, but that's not what I want. Not when my body seems to catch fire when he's near, not when I only have this feeling of peace when he's beside me, not when, exactly as Anuska said, something in my soul calls to his and fills the void I have.
"Yours! For as long as you want me," I answer while gently taking his face in my hands, because I'm too overwhelmed by insecurities, by everything that's happened to me, to believe that a man like Roman, who is the complete package and could have any woman, would be satisfied with an anxiety-filled bomb who loves Mexican food.
His eyebrows furrow, and he gently touches my lower lip with his finger while whispering, "I know everything going through that head of yours, and I guarantee you just signed a lifetime contract. There's no world where I'll get tired of you."
I realize he's serious from the way his eyes look at me. There's no lie, no betrayal, just adoration, and I don't understand how.
How can such an imposing man, so self-assured and with unlimited resources, want a weak woman like me? Because I am weak. I was weak when I forgave Aidan's first debts, when I gave him more chances in a relationship when I knew I wasn't happy, when I preferred to lie to my parents rather than admit the situation, when I chose to break away from my friends and my life just for a breath of air and peace.
"Just promise me you'll tell me if something changes. Don't let me discover it alone."
It's pathetic what I'm asking, but it's the guarantee I need for my soul. I know how deeply I can fall when I fall in love, and if what I felt for Aidan was love, with Roman I sense I'll be at least a mountain above those feelings.
Roman lifts my gaze, which was trained on his sweater, and aligns it with his.
"I've never brought anyone into the house where my sister sleeps, Luna. I've never killed anyone for a woman, and with you there are already two such moments in the last few weeks, and I certainly haven't lost control with anyone like I have with you. When Anton called to tell me someone broke into your apartment, I felt every fiber in my body wanting to disintegrate just to get there faster. I don't know what the hell you've done to me, and I've given up thinking about it because these moments when you're next to me are the only ones where all the weight, all the fatigue, all the stress disappear. You, your freckles, and that smile you offer so sparingly, I want you exactly where you're supposed to be...in my home."
I'm not the crying type, but I feel my eyes getting wet because his voice is so vulnerable now, compared to the man who was ready to blow Kai's head off when he touched me, that I only want to melt in his arms.
"Okay," is all I can offer him now.
And I would have liked to tell him with more words everything his declaration meant, but after the night we've had I can't give any more. I need to rest, and judging by his dark circles, so does he.
"Can you please sleep with me?" I ask while giving him a peck on the cheek.
It's completely innocent compared to the earlier kiss, but ironically it's the one that makes me blush completely.
He smirks.
"Sure, but not here. In my bedroom. We'll move your things there tomorrow." He takes my hand to guide me to a room that's right next to the one I was sleeping in.
The bedroom suits Roman to a T. Opulent drapes in a cherry color, almost black hardwood floors, and a bed I'm sure is custom-made, as it seems to be ten feet long.
How the hell did they get this bed into this room?
I know normal relationships don't start with "let's sleep in the same bed," and even if nothing sexual is going to happen, I feel awkward.
Wait, did I just say relationship? Is that what we are now?
After a few minutes, Roman comes out of the bathroom wearing only gray sweatpants, and I've never been more grateful for the dim light in the room because the way I'm staring at his abs and what's below them is something else.
I'm downright ridiculous.
"My eyes are up here, love," he tells me in an amused tone, and only then do I realize he's watching me from the bathroom doorway.
I try to ignore all the butterflies in my stomach at the word " love " said in that sexy voice.
"It shouldn't be legal to look this good...and all the tattoos? It's like I pulled you straight from my books," I tell him while getting into bed and covering myself up to my nose with the blanket.
I've never slept with anyone in bed. Even with Aidan I avoided this kind of situation. That's why we never moved in together. The simple act of sharing a bed with someone seems so intimate that I never felt the need to do it with my ex.
But with Roman? It's the same feeling I've had from the first moment with him. Danger and safety. Calm and adrenaline.
Roman gets in on the opposite side, and after I throw him a "good night" because I don't know what else to do, I squeeze my eyes shut, praying for sleep. Not even three seconds pass before I feel him literally pulling me with his arms to his chest and dropping a kiss on the crown of my head.
"It will be if you stay here all night," he whispers, and the last thing I remember is a sigh of exhaustion escaping me while my face is pressed against his heart.