Page 65 of Mastered By Lust

“I already am.” He sounds affronted.

“I know you are. I’m sorry?—”

Dial tone. He hung up.

I suppose I deserved that.

* * *

Leah

I wake up in darkness, held in strong arms. I panic and lash out.

“It’s me, Leah.”

His words don’t penetrate my consciousness, but his scent does. Lemongrass, soapy and clean.

“What’re you doing?” My words are slow and slurred. I feel drunk. Something bad happened, but I don’t want to think about it. I can’t.

“Making sure you’re all right. The EMT said to watch you tonight.”

Terrifying memories threaten to invade my mind. I push them away. “So you’re taking care of me.”

“Yes, baby.”

I sigh and press as much of my body against his as I can. Easy to do when he’s holding me like this.

Maybe things have been fucked up between us for a few weeks. But in the end, he has always taken care of me. That time I sprained my ankle at the Montrose family cabin—it was Dmitri who skipped out on swimming to keep me company. The one and only time I got black-out drunk in college? Dmitri picked up Danica and me at the club. He helped me leave Mick. He joined forces with Gage—who he didn’t even like at the time—to save me from the loan sharks.

No matter what happens, I’m safe with Dmitri.

He might be scared of having a relationship with me, but I can feel his affection, protection, and tenderness. They form a sturdy chain, linking us together. Unbreakable.

Dmitri’s heart is a solid, reassuring thump against my ear. As I drift back to sleep, I’m content. He and I will be okay. I know it in my soul.

* * *

Leah

The next time I wake up in Dmitri’s bed, I’m alone. People are having a heated argument in the living room. My head is killing me. The light shining through the curtains is faint. I’m guessing it’s seven or eight in the morning. I roll to the side and find a glass of water on the nightstand next to a bottle of ibuprofen.

I sit up, take a couple of pills, and look down. I’m no longer in my brown dress, but some of Dmitri’s clothes. My dress is draped over the edge of the clothes hamper, a dark stain on the hem. Probably alcohol. Jungle juice. I wonder if it will come out. I like that dress.

Last night…last night was horrible. Patrick. And there was a fight. Danica hit him, I remember that much. Before that, I remember kisses I didn’t want, touches I didn’t consent to.

The details are hazy. I’m not sure whether that’s disturbing, or if it’s a relief. Perhaps it’s better to forget. What little I recall is nightmarish.

The arguing in the living room intensifies. Dmitri and Danica are having the biggest argument I’ve ever heard. Worse, now I can hear every word they’re saying.

“Yeah well, I could see it clear as day.” Danica’s voice is tight and angry. “It’s in the way you were holding her, the way you were looking at her. Fess the fuck up.”

“You’re mad at Granddad and Patrick.” Dmitri sounds a lot calmer and more measured than Danica. “But you’re taking it out on me.”

“So you aren’t denying anything?”

“No, I’m not denying any of it. I like Leah. Yeah, Ilikelike her. I have for a while now, but you were a dick about us hooking up. But I didn’t do anything wrong.”

Danica says, “The fuck you didn’t—you promised you wouldn’t go for her.”

---