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Saturday turns into Sunday.
Lev has been a no-show today, which means there’s nothing to distract from my thoughts, which means they’re furiously circling around Uri, because of course they are. It starts with rage and slides into longing that quickly turns back into rage.
Long story short, I’m a freaking mess.
And I have no idea what to do about it.
That’s the thing: you can know something intellectually and you can feel something emotionally and, more often than not, those two things are in direct conflict with each other.
I know that Uri’s bad for me. I know he’s dangerous and selfish and he’s probably using me for his own purposes. I shouldn’t care what he does or how he lives as long as I can be free.
But I can’t help but feel destroyed inside any time I so much as think of him upstairs with another woman.
Surely that has to be the reason I’m banished to the basement on weekends, right? I mean, why else would he want me out of sight, out of mind? He’s trying to hide me from his legion of booty calls.
I’m not proud of that extremely petty thought. I’m not even mad at the faceless women he’s probably devouring as I pace the basement in angry circles. I’m mad at him for being more than just a brutish thug. And I’m mad at myself for letting myself feel this way about him.
I’m getting worked up into one hell of a fervor when the basement door opens. I whip around wondering who I’m gonna have to deal with. I’ve already got settings geared up for each face.
Svetlana:polite reservedness.
Lev: maternal friendliness.
Uri:fire and brimstone and a pitchfork, if I can get my hands on one.
When I see who it is, I crank up the heat and bust out the sulfur and horns. Until I see the package in Uri’s hands with a familiar logo on the front.
“Is that Kenny’s Shakes and Bakes?”
He walks it over to the coffee table in the sitting area and sets it down. “You mentioned a few days ago that you love their lemon meringue pie and their opera cakes, so I got you a couple of each.”
I squint at him, refusing to let go of my anger. “You’re bribing me.”
“No,” he answers coolly. “I just thought you’d enjoy them.”
“Right. Because you’re just so thoughtful like that.”
He tucks his hands into his pockets. “Why do I feel like I walked into a cage match?”
“Maybe because you’ve got me locked in a cage!” I snap. “I appreciate the sweets, but I’d rather be able to go upstairs.”
Uri’s face flatlines. “Not today. Tomorrow.”
The curiosity is gnawing at me. No, scratch that—it’s the insecurity that’s gnawing at me. Maybe that’s why I’m not willing to let him out of this basement until I get some answers.
“Your girlfriend doesn’t know about the prisoner you’re hiding down here, huh? Probably ruins the whole romantic vibe you’re trying to concoct.”
He narrows his eyes. “You’re looking for a fight, Alyssa, but I’m not biting.”
I grit my teeth. He’s right; Iamlooking for a fight. I’m looking for a reason to believe he still cares about me. Just one tiny hint. It’s pathetic but I can’t turn off my feelings and right now, they’re shouting a hell of a lot louder than my sense of reason.
“Just go. I’m done looking at your face.”
Uri’s eyes blaze and his eyebrows arrow downward. “That’s not how this works.Itell you what to do,narushitel. Not the other way around.”
I scoff. “What’s the problem? You should be chomping at the bit to go back upstairs to the latest whore you’ve got stashed up there.”
“You’re really in need of an endorphin rush today, aren’t you?”
