Page 113 of For a Price

CHAPTER 32

Roman

The moment we’re alone,uncertainty settles in.

Katerina wraps her arms around herself and wanders the space of our bed chamber like she’s unsure of where to go. I lock the door and spend a second or two studying her.

Everything about her body language reads as trauma. The pinch of her brow and subtle pout of her lips. The glassiness of her eyes. Her posture’s unnatural and stiff, and she seems hesitant to do or say anything, like she’s fearful of punishment.

The spunkiness she usually exhibits has been extinguished.

It took only three days for them to squash it out of her.

I take a step toward her. “You’re with me now, kitty cat. You can relax.”

Closing the gap between us even more, I grip her elbow to turn her. She doesn’t fight it, shifting until she’s facing me again.

“Kitty cat, did you hear me?” I ask. “You’re safe now.”

She gives a nod. “I wasn’t sure if…”

“If what, devochka? Tell me.”

“You’d come. I didn’t know if you would.”

I’d be offended if I didn’t sense she’s had a rough seventy-two hours. It might not sound like a long time, but it was enough tobegin questioning if she’d ever make it out. All kinds of thoughts must’ve run through her head.

Who took her and why? Would she ever make it out and would I come for her? What if she was sold to someone and taken away for good?

“Look at me,” I say in my low, guttural voice. My long, thick fingers cup the slender curve of her jaw and I tip her face up toward mine. Her gaze is so glassy and misty-eyed that I can see my reflection. “You never have to question if I’ll come for you, kitty cat. I promise I will always find you, no matter where you are. I will destroy the world if it means getting back to you.”

“Roman…” she swallows, blinking back tears. “I was so afraid. They told me nothing and I could do nothing… I wasn’t even allowed to speak. I couldn’t tell how much time passed. They kept electrocuting me with these cattle prods. All I could think was that… maybe you… maybe it was too much trouble…”

“It will never be too much trouble,” I say, dropping a peck on her wet lips, tasting the salt of her tears. “I will always come for you.”

She nods more assuredly this time, then buries her face into my chest. Her tears wet my bare chest as I hold her closer and stroke a hand over her hair.

The wig she was wearing slipped off during the gunfight. But it revealed the damage that’s been done to her once big, fluffy lavender curls.

Now her hair is fried and dried, a drab shade of brown that doesn’t pop like her curls once did.

“Devochka, what did they do to you?” I ask in an inflection that’s as low and soft as my voice goes.

She sniffles against my chest, content to stay burrowed into me. “They dyed my hair. But they had no idea what they were doing. It’s done so much damage…”

“Shhh, it’s alright. Come, you need a hot bath. It’ll help you unwind.”

The rooms at this new base of operations are not as luxurious as my penthouse but they’re a step up from the factory we’d been housed in. I flick on the bathroom light and then run the hot water in the clawfoot tub.

Katerina strips off the baggy t-shirt I’d given her to wear before she moves onto the sparkly bra and panty set the Midnight Society had put her in. The bra falls away and the panties slide down her hips and thighs to the tiled floor.

She instinctively goes to cover herself and then seems to remember it’s just the two of us. She has no reason to be shy.

But I have reason to be angry.

Enraged.

I glance up for a quick look at her and I’m engulfed by the instant flame rage brings.

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