Page 37 of Dmitri

“What’s your favorite place?”

I don’t have one. It’s not like I have extra money to go out with, and when I do, I always let Addie choose. “I’m down for wherever.”

“In that case.” Dmitri casually puts his hand on my lower back and steers me across the street. “I’ll pick.”

Relief is not what I should feel right now. I should be terrified. This big, intimidating creeper with a violent streak isliterally steering me into an alley.

But I’m more relaxed than ever.

Jesus, I’m messed up. And I’m totally dumping those sleeping pills down the drain when I get home. Regardless of whether it was the drugs that let me sleep so deeply last night, or Dmitri holding me without my realizing it, I’m way too relaxed for my own good around this man.

Maybe I’m disassociating?

Wouldn’t be the first time. Or the thousandth.

We stop at a sleek black motorcycle.

“Hop on.” Dmitri pats the backseat and lifts a helmet off the back.

“This is yours?” I can’t understand why he’d park such a beautiful, expensive luxury between two dumpsters in an alley.

“Yes, it’s mine. I don’t steal.”

That’s not what I was implying. I’m not even sure what I was trying to get at with my question. He’s throwing me off and setting me right, which makes zero sense. Why do I feel safe with a man I should be terrified of? My bad judgement calls are further proof that I need to get out of Kaleb’s world before I’m killed.

I know what he did to Kaleb’s father, which means I’m about to have breakfast with a murderer. A stalker who broke into my house more than once. A monster who fucked me while we were both covered in his blood.

Even with all those facts staring me straight in the face, I still don’t feel scared of him. No matter how hard I try, the emotion doesn’t surface. Not even when Dmitri silently puts the helmet over my head and adjusts the strap.

A monster wouldn’t hold their prey all night, would they?

A killer wouldn’t protect their target by putting a helmet on them, would they?

A stalker wouldn’t stick around until they were caught…would they?

I’m so confused. All that good sleep I got last night isn’t enough to get me through this. I’m tired of running, of out-maneuvering. I’m tired of fending for myself and protecting Addie from the very life I’ve dragged her into. I’m tired of working my ass off and having nothing to show for it.

Dmitri climbs onto the bike and looks over his shoulder. “Use me to hop on, Firefly.”

Why does he call me that?

And why do I like it?

His shoulder is hard as a rock when I grab it to straddle his bike. I don’t like that I’m wearing a helmet and he’s not. It means he’s putting my safety over his. Like a gentleman.

He’s not a gentleman, he’s a killer and a fighter and a bad, bad man.

Dmitri starts the engine and slips out of his hidden parking spot, yielding onto the main street effortlessly. I try to guess where we’re going, but any spot I come up with, we either pass, or it’s in the opposite direction.

Finally, fear sets in. I’ve willingly gotten onto the back of a bike with a man I do not know or trust and am letting him drag me further and further away from my safety zone.

That’s the definition of too stupid to live.

If he kills me, I hope it’s quick.

My stomach rolls because I can’t believe that’s my first thought in a situation like this. I’ve lost my will to fight. To survive. Kaleb took everything out of me so long ago and demands more and more every time I’m forced to confront him. And this is the result.

Dmitri is my end game.

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