Page 47 of Possession

Vitali kept shouting about all the scars on Roman’s body—what the fuck,who the fuck did this,where the fuck has he been—and at one point grabbed me by the neck and slammed me into the wall, screaming for answers. I couldn’t reply. I just kept blinking. My brain had shut down by then.

The female guard jabbed him in the back and pulled him off me. I tried to get to Roman on the bed, but Vitali shoved me out of the way with a dangerous gleam in his eye.

Part of me recognizes that he’s very upset about his brother, but part of me just wants to get away from him.

That, however, is obviously not an option.

When the doctor arrived, Vitali started pacing. The doctor said he suspected an epinephrine overdose. I didn’t understand everything that was said and everything that happened, but when the doctor was finished with Roman, he approached me and asked if I was hurt. I hate that I skittered back like a timid animal, but that’s what I did.

I don’t want anyone to touch me but Roman.

I want to be with him right now. I don’t like that the doctor ushered everyone out of his room. I don’t like that I got brought down here.

They let me wash up first, so I guess that’s something, but I still feel gross in these clothes. I want out of them. I want to be under the blankets with Roman.

Maybe it’s crazy or stupid, but I almost wish we were back in the cell. Just us, together. Quiet.

My eyes prickle. I widen them, hoping they don’t leak. I don’t want to cry in front of Vitali.

He exhales another stream of smoke. “So who the fuck are you and how do you know my brother?”

“I’m … Lucas. I’m, um, it’s complicated—”

“Then fucking explain it.”

“I don’t know where to start.”

“At the fucking beginning,” Vitali orders.

“Um. Okay. My stepfather took me to a fight. An illegal fight. He was in debt and needed money, so he paid a guard to drug Roman so he’d lose the fight—”

“Why the fuck was Roman in this fight and where the hell was this?”

“New York. Outside the city in an old warehouse. And Roman didn’t have any choice! He was a prisoner there—”

“Who the fuck was keeping him prisoner?”

I shrink back as Vitali comes stalking my way. “A man named Oscar Crowley, but Roman killed him tonight—”

“Is he the one who did that shit to my brother?”

“Some of it maybe. But he was a prisoner somewhere else before that because Crowley said he bought him—”

“Boughthim?”

“That’s what Crowley said. That he bought Roman from a prison or something. I think Roman was being forced to fight there too, but Roman doesn’t really talk about things. When I first met him, he didn’t speak at all—”

Vitali is looming over me. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Vitali.” That comes from the female guard at the door. “Give him some room.”

Vitali’s lips are peeled back from clenched teeth. His dark eyes bore into me. He wants to kill me. Or kill someone.

But he steps back from the chair. He turns away from me and walks back to the fireplace. Keeping his back to me, he takes a drag on the cigar and exhales smoke. Then he says, “Go on.”

My thoughts cram together. Go on from what point?

Vitali prompts, “Tell me about Crowley.”

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