Page 75 of Possession

My thoughts trip again. Chest heaving, head spinning, arm cocked back, I stare down at Vitali. His hand covers mine where it’s gripping his shirt. I let go of him, pulling free as I thump back onto my ass on the floor.

Vitali gathers himself up slowly. He motions the others back. Not guards, not prison guards anyway, not my handlers. It’s Sasha and Anton’s bodyguard. Anton himself.

I don’t look up, but I see my uncle’s feet. The way he shuffles. My mind trips again.

I force my eyes up, lifting them from his loose dress pants to his suitcoat to his wary, ruggedly handsome face. For a second, our eyes lock.There’s a question in his. Fear too. He looks to his bodyguard. He steps back.

Anton says, “He can’t be trusted.”

Vitali turns a glare on him and gets to his feet. “Fuck that. He just needs time. He just fucking got back, and we don’t really know what happened to him.”

“Don’t be a fool, Vitali. He’s—”

“My brother, and I’m taking him home, so just—” Vitali cuts himself off like he was about to say something disrespectful. He was always more controlled than me.

He offers me his hand. I can see in his tense body language that he half expects me to attack him, but I don’t. I don’t take his hand either. I can’t. I’m too shaky and I don’t want him to feel it. I’m too … self-conscious.

I hate it. I just want to go back. I want in my cell. I want to sit in a corner or lie on my mattress and have everything be simple and clear.

I want to be alone.

But somehow I get up.

I don’t really track the rest of it. There’s talking. Movement. Vitali collects some things from the bar, then he’s ushering me to the door.

The cool air wakes me up a little, enough that I can open the car door and get into the back seat. Vitali gets in the other side while Sasha drives.

I see her eyes in the rearview mirror. I feel Vitali’s from beside me.

After a while he says, “I’ve been looking for someone who can maybe help you.”

I don’t react. I don’t want to talk to Vitali. I just want to be alone.

Vitali sighs. “We don’t have to talk about it right now.”

My throat tightens, and I hate it. I wish I was angry. It’s so much safer to be angry. Instead I feel …

Fuck, I feel …

Scared.

I vaguely register Vitali texting someone. I vaguely register the passing miles.

We get home. I get out. I go to the door. When Lucas opens it, conflicting needs slam into each other.

I need to be alone.

But I also need …

He reaches out and takes my hand. He doesn’t say anything. He just walks with me through the house and up the stairs to our room. He closes us in. He starts undressing me.

He knows I don’t really like clothes. I prefer being naked. It’s more comfortable. There’s no pretense.

As I pull off my shirt, Lucas crouches to unlace my boots. I toe them off. I take off the rest of my clothes and walk with Lucas tothe bathroom. I brush my teeth, avoiding the sight of myself in the mirror.

Lucas gets the shower going. He pulls me in to join him under the spray. Though there’s some contact, we don’t talk or get intimate. This shower is only for washing things away. Resetting.

After we’re done and dry, we get in the bed. Lucas intertwines himself with me, and it’s so, so much better than being alone.

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