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He wants me.
First, he wanted to take me on his own terms, so he kidnapped me from behind enemy lines. Then, he wanted to see me squirm, so he ripped my dress off and painted my body with his tongue. Finally, he wanted to lift me up when I was feeling down. But men like Leonid are never good with words.
So, he kissed me.
And what a fucking kiss. Even now, it still stains my lips like a fucking curse… or a gift. It’s hard to tell.
Was it what I had always wished for?
No.
No matter what that dead little girl inside of me might have hoped for, my first kiss was never going to be romantic or magical.
Still, Leonid managed to pluck something out of thin air and bring it alive with the electricity we found between each other’s lips.
The hair on my arms stands up as I remember how he felt.
No. Fuck. This is why I didn’t want to finish my lunch!
Before Maeve came in with the big bowl of salad, I had been racking my brain for answers I shouldn’t have been looking for.
Where was Leonid? Why was he taking so long to come back? Why do I care?
… Is he hurt?
As hard as I tried to fight it, I couldn’t swat back this nagging feeling of responsibility. It’s the strangest fucking thing. I’m his captive and he’s my captor. We don’t owe each other shit.
But if I saw him stumble into my room, blood dripping from his shoulder, my heart would stop. The dead little girl in me might just overpower the apathetic adult, shocked alive by the electricity of Leonid’s strangely charming kiss, and run to the only boy who’s ever touched me in a way that’s felt good.
But then another thought wormed its way out from the dark recesses of my mind.
What if he’s not hurt? What if he’s with someone I hurt.
His brother.
Roman.
Of course, I didn’t do anything to Roman. Even choosing him out of that line up all of those years ago wasn’t completely up to me. I followed my father’s wishes, and Roman paid the price.
… But so did all of those other boys.
Flames flicker behind my eyelids as I turn away from the bowl on my nightstand and try to look at something else. But I only see the blinking red light of the recording camera.
All I can think about is Leonid watching… with Roman at his back, whispering into his ear, telling him all of the horrible things my family did to him.
I swear, I was never a part of it, I almost want to shout at the stupid camera. But that didn’t stop me from feeling guilt.
After I picked him, I never saw Roman again, but once in a while I’d overhear someone talking about him and all of the cruel things they were putting him through.
I tried to plead for mercy on his behalf once, but I was only punished for being weak. Would Leonid like to hear that? That I tried my best…
Fuck. There I go again, groveling for my captor’s approval.
He’s really done a number on me. I’m twisted upside down and I don’t know which way is up anymore.
This isolation is really fucking me up.
Who do I owe loyalty to anymore? Leonid? Castor? Myself?
