Page 32 of Wicked Arrangement

“No, you are the one who doesn’t understand Miss Kimmy, he is a dangerous man,” she insists her voice quiet and hurried, she seems genuinely fearful of him.

Now I’m concerned about what she knows. How well do I really know Yaroslav? Could he be some kind of abuser, and this is just how he starts? Sure, I consented to everything last night, and enjoyed it, more than I care to admit to myself, buthe was rough. I have the marks to prove it. Would he have acted differently if I wasn’t enjoying it? He seemed so unlike his usual composed self yesterday. Clearly, he was upset, angry even. Should I be afraid of him? Was I wrong to trust he wouldn’t hurt me?

“What do you mean?” I ask, afraid to hear the answer.

“I’ve said too much already,” she says, her eyes darting over to the door again.

“Alheri, if he’s so bad why are you here? Do you need help?” I ask, concerned for my new friend.

“Because I know too much, I can’t leave. I don’t need help, this is a good job. Mr. Volkov is kind to those who are loyal. People who speak out, who snitch, they disappear. I worry you will do this. You ask too many questions, you’re too honorable, and that is dangerous for you. Don’t speak to the police,” she warns.

“Police? Alheri what are you saying? I’m not going to the police, I told you, Yaroslav didn’t do anything to me,” I say, even more confused.

“Good, that is good, that is what you must tell people. I have to go now. Forget I said anything. Promise me you won’t tell him what we spoke about?” she asks her eyes pleading.

“I promise,” I say with a nod as she scuttles out of the door, leaving me feeling bewildered.

Based on her bizarre reaction, I’m almost afraid to look at myself in the mirror. But I decide to get it over and done with. I head to the bathroom and strip off, standing in front of the full-length mirror.

I don’t look great. No wonder Alheri was freaked out.

My whole body is covered in bruises and bite marks from where Yaroslav grabbed me. I feel sore between my legs and my throat feels tight. At the time, it hurt sure, but not badly enough that I expected to look like this today. I feel ashamed of how much I enjoyed how rough he was, and how empowered I felt to make him lose himself like that. The pleasure felt even more intense combined with the pain. God help me I wanted more.

Now, in the cold light of day, I don’t know how to feel. Should I feel ashamed? Used? Afraid?

My appetite gone, I decide to take a long hot bubble bath to try to relax and think about things. After last night and Alheri’s strange warning, should I even stay?

Once the bath is ready, I pop some relaxing music onto the speaker system and climb in. The calming smells of vanilla and patchouli, combined with the perfectly warm bubble bath soothe my tired muscles. I lean back and close my eyes, allowing myself to think over my time with Yaroslav so far.

Even after last night, I don’t feel afraid of him. I trust him. I feel drawn to him, as though there’s an invisible tether pulling me back to him every time I consider moving away. There’s a connection there that I’ve not felt before, and I know it isn’t just the money that’s keeping me here. I do not doubt that he’d let me go if I asked, that he wouldn’t expect me to pay him back.

There’s a knock at my door, I assume it’s Alheri or one of the other maids and that they will go away if I don’t answer. They knock again, a little louder this time so I call out.

“I’m in the bath, doors closed if you need to come into the bedroom.”

I hear the bedroom door opening and closing, some movement in the room, and then another knock, this time at the bathroom door.

Weird. I just said I’m in the bath. Surely Alheri or any of the others would know to give me privacy.

“Kimmy, it’s me,” I hear Yaroslav say quietly outside the door, answering my inner question. “I was hoping I could talk with you,” he adds when I don’t reply.

I contemplate getting out, but decide against it, knowing Yaroslav he’d likely come barreling in while I’m halfway out the tub and I’ll do something mortifying like slipping and falling butt naked onto the floor.

“Come in, door’s unlocked.”

He opens the door and enters, looking surprised when he sees that I’m in the bath. I can see the immediate appreciative sexual desire that flickers in his gaze as he looks at my body, even though my nakedness is mostly obscured by the bubbles. He immediately averts his gaze, seeming to internally chide himself for staring and getting horny.

“Sorry, I can come back later,” he says with an awkward cough, uncharacteristically shy.

“Yaroslav, you’ve seen and fucked every square inch of me, I think you can see me in the tub,” I say with a small smile, rolling my eyes.

“Right, yes,” he says, looking at me again. It’s then that he notices the bruises on my arms.

He frowns and comes over closer, kneeling down beside the tub. “I did this to you?”

“It looks worse than it feels,” I say softly, watching his handsome face looking anguished as he carefully inspects the visible marks.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to…” he says, his voice trailing off as he tries to find the words.

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