Chapter 9
Chapter
Nine
IVY
“Ivan Pavlova,” it’s hard to get my mouth to form the name I haven’t said once in years.
I start to shake as my body prepares for the punishment for disobeying his rules. I grit my teeth, ready for the strike that never comes. Instead, a smooth, deep, Scottish voice breaks through to my consciousness that’s lost somewhere in the dark, trying to escape that horrid man all over again.
“Ivy, he can’t hurt you anymore.” Milton’s hand touches my knee, and I jump, causing the small amount of bourbon left in my tumbler to splash over my chest.
I freeze as I look at the mess I made and then suppress a moan when I see the look in Milton’s eyes.
Hunger, rage, and something else I can’t name, but it’s his tongue licking his bottom lip like he’d sell his soul to the devil to lick me clean that undoes me.
“Please,” the word slips past my lips without my approval, and I gasp when the man kneels at my feet.
He whips his shirt off, takes the glass out of my hands, places it on the floor next to us, and then uses the fabric he was just wearing to gently pat my chest dry.
“You aren’t ready for what you’re begging me for.” His words are like cold water on my skin, shocking me out of my lust-filled haze, and I shrink back, but he grabs my wrist to stop me from recoiling and meets my eyes.
“Yet. I need to know the whole story, Lass. The details of ten years can wait. I need to know what causes you to lose sleep and why you’re afraid of the dark.
Why do you act like speaking your mind may cost you your life?
Give me basics so that I don’t trigger you when I’m trying to help. ” I nod and take a deep breath.
He wants me to condense a decade of trauma into a few sentences, and I’m not sure if I can do it. He must sense my unease because he takes both my hands in his and squeezes them gently.
“Name your demons so I may slay them.” His accent and position make this feel like he’s vowing to royalty.
That makes him my Knight and I his Queen.
“He made me strip naked and dance for him that day. Then he made me perform for all his gang the same way. When he thought my performance was lacking, I was denied food. If his friends didn’t like the show, I was beaten and thrown into a pit he had.
Sometimes I wasn’t alone,” I can’t finish the sentence, but somehow he knows.
“Alive?” I shake my head and swallow hard to control my nausea.
“The cold was the worst. It’s why I begged to be in a warm climate, but the storms are hard.” I glance out the window at the cloudy sky and sigh.
I won’t be sleeping tonight.
“Abel chose New Orleans?” I nod and look back at him.
“How did you get away?” I wish I could say I found a way on my own, but the truth is far from that.
“An undercover agent was placed into the Bratva, and he got me out,” I stop midsentence when Milton stands suddenly.
“brATVA?” Oh, oh shit.
“I thought you knew.” I raise my knees to my chest and curl myself into a ball on the chair.
“The Agent’s name?” He seemed even more upset now than when I started talking.
“I don’t know his real name. Just what he used with Ivan. Is it important?” He seems to calm down and steps back to take his chair.
I miss his touch and closeness immediately.
“No, I guess it doesn’t. Fuck this.” He stands, and the next moment, I’m in his arms.
He takes my seat and snuggles me into his bare chest.
“Finish it.” I hear and feel the rumble of his chest when he issues the order.
“I broke my leg and couldn’t perform about three years ago. Ivan was so upset he beat me within an inch of my life, and that’s when things changed for the worse. The beatings were bad enough, but when he started selling other things.” I couldn’t finish.
“Shh.” He rubs my back as I sob at the memories I try so hard not to think of.
“That last night, I danced for them and fell. I was ordered into the pit, but it was raining so hard that the mud covered the opening and blocked the air vents. I was buried alive and knew no one was coming to check on me for at least three days. That was the normal when I was put in.” I wipe my face and clear my throat.
“If it weren’t for Andrei, I’d have died down in that hole.” He raised my chin so our eyes met.
“Andrei Lukin?” I nod.
“How did you know?” He snorts, and he kisses my forehead right where my brows wrinkle above my nose.
It’s not the kiss I’ve been thinking about, but I’ll take it.
“Abel always calls in his favors.” He runs his fingers up my cheek and clearly moves my hair behind my ear, never once taking his eyes off my face.
No, my lips.
I open my mouth to beg this man to make me forget everything, including my own damn name, when his phone rings. With a curse, he shifts to get it from his pocket, and that moves my body up his lap and right onto his very hard cock.
“Oh my.”