Page 101 of Dmitri

“I’m not staying the night with you. If that’s a problem, you can leave.”

He’s giving me a choice.

“I want to stay.” My feelings are hurt, but I respect the boundary he’s put between us. “Thank you for helping me.”

On that note, he leaves.

But doesn’t lock the door this time.

???

Dmitri

The club’s finally winding down. It’s almost four in the morning, and I’m too restless to sleep. It’s too soon to expect Vault to have worked his magic, but I’m hoping there’s a chance he’s at least gotten started. Entering his office, it takes all of two seconds for that bubble to burst.

Vault is passed out at his desk with an energy drink in his hand. The man works entirely too much. We all do here. And I’m sure he’s putting in double time because Ryker’s taken me offduty.

After placing the drink can somewhere it won’t get knocked over and ruin his equipment, I slip out, clicking the door closed quietly behind me. Guess I’ll head into Ryker’s office and tell him I’m coming back to work. I can’t let my friends pick up the slack when I’m perfectly capable of handling my own responsibilities.

The doorknob doesn’t budge when I touch it, and there’s the distinct sound of bodies slapping together and Tara’s moans on the other side of the locked mahogany door.

Pivoting once again, I head to the penthouse where Sophie usually lingers.

She’s blowing out candles and has her shoes kicked off. “Hey you.”

Her voice is a balm to my nerves. We’ve connected in a lot of ways over the years, and she’s become a dear friend of mine. “Got a minute?”

“For you? Always.” She sits on the bench used to tie our subs. “What’s up?”

I don’t even know where to start. “Can you just… rub my back?”

Her features soften. “Sure, D.” Sophie hops off the bench and escorts me to the bed while I pull my shirt off. Once I lie face down, she climbs on top of me, and skates her chilled hands along my skin.

We don’t speak.

When I get like this, words don’t help anyway and I’m not looking for advice. I just need comfort from someone I trust.

I wish it was from Daelyn.

“You ever want to turn back time and have a do over?”

Sophie digs her elbows into my lower back, working out the knots. “God no. I don’t want to get my PhD ever again. Once was enough torture.”

Fair. Sophie’s a rocket scientist. How she has time to juggle the Monarch and still go to her day job is beyond me. The woman never sleeps.

“But…” She pours oil over my back and massages harder. “I guess if I could get a second crack at things, I’d do them the same. Even the awful shit.”

“Why?” Wouldn’t she want to skip those parts?

“They made me the delectable creature that I am.” Her hands glide over my scars while she works out more of my tension. “I like who I am. Part of me was shaped by the bad stuff. Who knows what I would have turned into had my life been all rainbows and popsicles.”

God love her.

“What about you?” She nonchalantly traces my triangular shaped scar.

“Sometimes I want to.” Turning my head to the side, I sigh. “Sometimes I wish I was just fucking dead.”

Her hands pause at my lower back. “Well,” she says, moving slower. “I, for one, would be devastated if you weren’t around anymore.” She massages a little harder. “No one else makes coffee like you. I’d be forced to drink that disgusting mud Ryker makes. Or worse, have to switch to energy drinks like Vault. I swear that shit’s got chemicals stronger than rocket fuel in them. His brain’s going to melt out of his nose if he isn’t careful.”

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