Page 125 of For a Price

I can’t even finish my sentence in a way that makes sense.

It doesn’t even make sense in my head.

I mixed up the past with the present and attacked my boyfriend.

“Kitty cat,” Roman says after another excruciating moment of silence. “Were you thinking that I was… you thought I was him?”

“I’m not sure what I was thinking,” I confess, my skin hot from embarrassment. I curl my arms over my chest and stare at the tiled floor. “Everything got jumbled and I lost track of what was happening.”

He takes a step toward me and my body flinches.

Not because I’m afraid of him. Not because I even have control of myself right now.

But because it’s an involuntary reaction in a moment where I’m still fuzzy on past and present.

My eyes squeeze shut and I groan. “I’m so sorry. It’s not you… it’s just… I don’t think… I’m not ready…”

He understands what I mean. He steps toward me anyway and draws me into an embrace where he wraps his arms around me and drops a kiss onto my freshly shaven head.

“That’s okay,” he says. “My kitty cat needs more time. A beast like me can be a lot to handle.”

He’s trying to make me smile. Trying to lighten the moment.

As I look up into his face, I try to let myself play along. The corners of my lips try to spread into a smile, but then I spot the scratch marks I’ve given him and I can’t.

“Zver, I scratched the fuck out of you. I hurt you and not him. I didn’t do anything to him. I didn’t even try to defend myself. I just laid there and… and let him…”

“You were terrified. You had just been sold and were in a vulnerable position. Many people freeze in moments like that.”

He’s so understanding and gentle with me that it only intensifies the guilt. He helps me down from the sink counter and with my clothes. We eat a small dinner instead, the conversation between us more stilted than usual.

My mind’s on earlier while Roman seems determined to take it off what happened.

I wish I could just turn my brain off. I could stop focusing on all of it, but the only thing I can think about is how even my attempt to empower myself fell flat. I thought shaving my hair off would help; it would rid me of the damaged curls I was forced to have after captivity with the Midnight Society.

It worked… until other memories returned.

I’m back to square one. A powerless victim that’s once again been wronged after a lifetime of wrongs.

Roman pulls me close when we get into bed and turn off the lights. He kisses me goodnight and falls asleep within minutes.

But I’m awake for hours. I lay in the dark and try to figure out how to overcome this.

“It’s so good to hear your voice,” Rosita says from the other end of the phone. “I was so worried when I heard you went missing. Then that Russian guy came by looking for you.”

“That Russian guy is the reason I’m alive and well right now.”

“Kat, am I ever going to know what the hell’s going on? Is that your man?”

My face heats up at the blunt question. I glance over my shoulder at Roman, who’s preoccupied by the documents Oleg has just brought him. They’re talking fast in Russian that’s way too complex for a beginner like me to understand.

I’m making my weekly phone call to Rosita in hopes I’ll feel normal again if I talk to someone from my old life.

One thing is true—it’s good to hear Rosita’s voice.

“He is, isn’t he?” she gasps. “He’s your man! He’s huge! And fine.”

“Shhh.”

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