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I remove the first earring as Dmitri walks into the bedroom. His hand wraps around my stomach and I can feel his hard cock against my ass, which is easily felt through the silk robe I’m wearing. He’s only wearing a towel around his waist after having a shower, and I can see through the mirror I’m standing in front of his chiseled abs that dip down to a v-line. I bite my bottom lip.
I find it only fitting that one night can change my life just like it had five years ago when I’d decided to move to Russia. And last night, when I decided to fight for myself once again.
Dmitri had freed me from my own shackles. I had to fight for this. It was too presumptuous to ever think there could be an “us,” I had to continue fighting for at least my family. Although I thought laying down my sword was doing exactly that, I still had no idea how to free myself. But I’d try.
He’s holding a box in his hand but brushes his nose against my hair as if inhaling my scent. His gaze lands on my slippers.
“I never thought I’d fuck someone with their waist wrapped around me and slippers pushing into my back. Is this a self-conscious foot thing?”
My heart stops, and I feel ashamed and embarrassed, but I hide any reaction. I don’t want him looking further into it. “Something like that. What’s in the package?” I ask, turning and snaking my hands around his neck.
He swallows, his stormy blue eyes drinking me in. As much as I want to remain in this bubble with him, untouched by the outside world, it’s a momentary fantasy. And we’re both clutching to it down to the seconds.
“We didn’t use protection,” he says matter-of-factly, offering me the box. I don’t know why, but the sterile transaction tugs on my heart. Yes, he’s being considerate, but it also reminds me of another dark realization that makes me feel less.
I take the box anyway. “You don’t have to worry about that,” I say, as I go to open it, but his finger points my chin to look up at him.
“What do you mean by that?”
The fantasy bubble has definitely popped. I attempt to be as clinical as him. “I haven’t had my period for well over twelve months. It’s common for athletes and dancers,” I say. I’ve lost a lot of weight, but I know intuitively it’s not because of my dancing or the weight loss. It’s been the stress and fear I’ve lived with over the years. But I’d never say that; it’d only further his own guilt. I make a point to raise the box. “But better to be safe since it can still happen, I suppose.” Not that it’s a possibility between Dmitri and me, but I imagine he’d hate the thought of getting someone pregnant after a measly one-night stand.
These last twenty-four hours definitely couldn’t mean as much to him as they have to me.
“Is there something we can do to help that?” he asks, as if this man wants to fix all my problems in the world.
I offer a small smile and quietly suggest. “Leave the woman stuff to me.” Because I don’t want to further burden him with the many truths I refrained from telling him this weekend. I told him as much as he needed to know, but I’d left out certain aspects about my relationship with his father, how and when it’d started, and to the extent of his abuse. I was ashamed and even now feel dirty for having let Dmitri touch me selfishly after not relinquishing the depths of my darkness, mainly because there were specific memories I didn’t want to relive myself.
When I open the box, I’m surprised by the delicate sapphire and diamond-crusted necklace inside, alongside the morning-after pill. I pull out the silver chain and stare at the beautiful blue stone. It’s quaint in size, matching my personal preferences. I’ve never much liked flashy pieces of jewelry.
“What is this?” I ask quietly.
He takes it from my fingers and presses it against my throat so I can see what it looks like on me. “It’s a generous gift your client gave you for your services this weekend,” he says as he presses a kiss to my cheek. “But also, something I want you to wear. Whenever you have to look at that bracelet, I want you to touch this instead and remember me. I promise I will free you from him, Cricket.”
My throat bobs at the insinuation. The risks involved if all fails—my family. I want to fight against him and stand tall in this cage for them. But he’s fractured the small ray of hope I’ve been praying for all this time.
“Promise me that no matter what, if the risk is too high, you’ll let me go, Dmitri. I’ll never forgive either of us if something happens to my family.”
His thumb strokes against my cheekbone, and this time, I hold my face to it, clinging to his warmth, contemplating that it might be the last time I feel it. “I promise I’ll get you out.”
I stare at him in earnest. I don’t ever want to let go of him. I’m scared for a whole different reason now. Now that he’s woken me from my stupor, the fight I pushed down a long time ago to only survive. And although when I go back to New York, it might not look different from the outside, it has within me. The fire that’s relit.
Dmitri gives me this strength.
And it outweighs the fear that this will come crashing down again.
That my hope will be squandered again.
I’m simply grateful that he respects me enough to listen and to let me go again into the hands of the monster as the bait in between their war.
It’s the only stance I can have to protect my loved ones, so if Dmitri promises me, I’ll pretend to believe in his words.
I’m almost certain no one can.
But if anyone can—he will.
21
ELANEE
