Page 26 of Sheltering Hollis

“I’m sorry. I was getting carried away.” Dimitri stepped away from me and straightened. That wasn’t what I had meant, though. Biting my lip, I tried to figure out how to explain myself. My hands fluttered nervously together like a bird’s wings. “It’s hard to stay away when you do that,” he said.

“I didn’t want you to stop,” I said in a small voice. Was that wrong? Should I have wanted him to stop? Fiddling with my hair, I pulled some forward to cover my face, feeling the blush rising in my cheeks. This was embarrassing. He was so much more than any man I’d ever known.

His gaze softened as he moved closer, tucking my hair behind my ear. “Oh, malysh. We have all the time in the world. There is no rush for these things. Each moment will be a treasure.”

“Okay.” I nodded, but I was confused about my feelings.

“Come, we need to go anyway.” I put my hand into his as we left the bedroom, tucking me to his side protectively. I tried to examine my thoughts as we went to the waiting car.

Allowing myself a moment of vulnerability, I said softly. "Dimitri, did you want me to tell you what happened?” He looked startled, almost unsettled, which wasn’t my intention. If he didn’t want to know, that wasn’t something I needed to tell him; I just thought, maybe?

“I am here to listen to you, Hollis. I am here to be your armor if you need me, to be your safe harbor. What you share, you can do on your own time.” He looked at me thoughtfully. “It is up to you if you tell me what happened. Those men will die for whatever it was. Whatever it was, it does not impact how I feel about you.” He settled a kiss under my ear on the soft skin there so that a shiver went through my body, his words unsettling me in all the best ways.

Sighing, I smoothed my hands over the seat, taking deep breaths. His words made me feel better — safer. He had feelings for me. That was good, right? Sneaking a look at him, I marveled that the man sitting next to me could be so tender and gentle. He would be good with Olive, right? The image of him with her suddenly came to me. She’d never known a father figure. I wondered if he liked children.

“This will be over after this, right?” I asked, covering my sudden discomfort.

His hand found mine, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "It will. We'll find Gregor and the doctor, and this will all end. Just a little longer, and then we will get you home to Olive.”

The warmth of his touch spread through me, a steadying force against the whirlwind of fear and anticipation. I nodded, drawing strength from his presence.

The drive to the restaurant was easy. The silence was filled with nothing but Dimitri stroking the palm of my hand in soothing circles, tracing the tips of my fingers until I felt restless and achy, me sneaking glances at him. I longed to climb onto his lap to pull myself to him. Instead, I did nothing as we pulled up to the elegant building.

Taking a deep breath, I braced myself for the evening ahead. We were stepping into the lion’s den. Despite Dimitri’s warnings, I felt more ready than last time.

Dimitri opened the car door for me, offering a hand as I stepped out. The golden dress shimmered under the streetlights, catching the eyes of passersby. I walked with my head held high, and every step reminded me that I was in charge right now, both in my appearance and resolve.

The neon lights outside the club flickered in a hypnotic dance, casting vibrant hues across the cobblestone street. A palpable energy radiated from the very walls of the building. I didn’t think it was any energy I wanted to be part of. Some of these people out here were either victims or predators. As we approached the entrance, the resounding thud of bass-heavy music seeped through the heavy doors.

The guard at the door was a burly man with a discerning eye who gave us a quick once-over. After Dimitri gave his name, he waved us forward. As soon as we stepped through the threshold, we were enveloped by the pulsating beats of electronic music. The air inside was even warmer than outside, tinged with sweat, perfume, and a hint of tobacco. The lights were dim, save for the flashing strobes that cast fleeting, colorful shadows across the room.

It was interesting to watch Dimitri slip into his role. Gone was the sweet and gentle man who had stood before me earlier. He now had a mask over his face. He was all business—complex and impenetrable. This face promised violence and no mercy.

The dance floor moved in unison with the rhythm of the music. It was a mesmerizing sight—people of all ages and backgrounds, lost in the music, their movements fluid and uninhibited. The DJ, perched high above the crowd, orchestrated the night with skillful precision, transitioning seamlessly from one track to the next, each beat building on the last.

To the left, a long bar stretched out, its surface gleaming under the soft glow of strategically placed lights. The bartenders moved with practiced efficiency, mixing cocktails and pouring drinks with flair. I watched a bartender expertly toss a bottle in the air, catching it behind his back before pouring its contents into a shaker. He flashed a quick smile at a group of women at the bar, their laughter rising above the din of the music.

We made our way to a small, elevated section of the club, where plush velvet couches provided a semblance of privacy amid the chaos. From this vantage point, I could see the entire club—the dance floor, the bar, the clusters of people gathered in animated conversation. It was all movement and sound, a testament to Bogotá’s renowned nightlife, but it was a lie because I knew something was bound to happen tonight. Something bad. Multiple bad things, probably. This was all just a front for something else. They couldn’t see it yet.

Dimitri handed me a drink as we left the bar. His eyes scanned the crowd, alert and watchful. I took a sip, the cool liquid a welcome respite from the club’s heat.

“It’s lively, isn’t it?” he asked, leaning in so I could hear him over the music.

I nodded, a smile tugging at my lips. “It’s incredible. The energy here is infectious.”

He smiled back, a rare expression of warmth that made my heart skip a beat. “Stay close to me, malysh,” he said, his voice serious. “We need to blend in.”

I nodded, my heart pounding. We approached Makarovich's table, each step echoing with purpose. I could see the flicker of surprise in his eyes as he took in my appearance, the way the golden dress seemed to command the room. I felt a rush of satisfaction.

As we sat down, I smiled at Makarovich, a confident, steely smile. "Good evening," I said, my voice steady and clear.

“Volkov,” Makarovich nodded to Dimitri, ignoring me altogether. “You look like you brought your own snacks. Will you be attending the festivities?”

“She’s beautiful, right Anton?” Dimitri said. I could see Makarovich’s eyes flit from Dimitri to me, wondering what the right thing to say was.

“Yes?” he finally answered, a quiver in his voice that even I heard. The man was pathetic even to me, bending so quickly to Dimitri.

“That’s the right answer,” Dimitri praised. “She is exquisite.” He looked at Makarovich with consideration. “However, someone in your organization mishandled her.”

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