Page 43 of Luka

I blink but just wait for him to go on. If he wants me to answer his questions from now on, he’ll have to take the gag off.

“It means you should be nice to me. You should try very,veryhard to do everything I tell you to do.”

Be nice to him.

Nausea rises at his words, and I turn my head on impulse. Beniceto him.

It isn’t enough to just do what he says. To accept that he will take things against my will. I must beniceto him while he’s doing it.

What does that even mean?

Tall comes into my mind, demanding I kiss him. Demanding I take off my clothes for him.

I refused. And he conceded.

Are those the kinds of things Arseni will want? And if I don’t give them, he’ll just be done with me too? Time to go to the lake so Tall can dismember me?

“Uh oh,” Arseni teases. “Somebody’s got an attitude.”

My lips squeezing the gag, I turn back to him to stare.

He waits several seconds before he speaks again, as if daring me to look away.

“Do you want me to uncuff you?”

Raising higher onto my knees, I nod emphatically.

“Do you promise to be nice?”

There’s that word again.Nice. It trips me up for a second, but only for a second. I nod, my ultimate goal of escape in mind.

Arseni gets up, his cigarette dangling from his mouth, and plucks the key from the nightstand before strutting over to me. Ashes rain down on my freshly washed dress as he crouches, but I say nothing of it while he undoes the cuffs.

Another difference between Arseni and Tall. I didn’t think of it as much of a kindness at the time, but I’m realizing at this moment that Tall didn’tneedto wash my dress. By the filth of the room, I seriously doubt Arseni would have cared about my state the way Tall did. It’s evidenced by the fact that he didn’t have me take a shower with him as Tall had.

Hechoseto wash my clothes. Hell, to give me back my clothes. Why? Impulse?

Arseni takes my wrist once I’m uncuffed and hauls me to my feet before stubbing his cigarette out on the radiator. He leads me to the bed somewhat roughly where he urges me to climb onto the mattress. As soon as my knees dig into the firm springs of the old bed, Arseni splays his palm over my lower back and presses me flat, a gasp entering me as my face connects with a musty comforter.

I stare wide-eyed at his reflection in the box TV as he straddles my legs, his hand firmly pressed to the center of my back.

After lifting my dress over my rear, he palms the bare flesh, making me blush.

“Spread your legs,” he commands.

I bring my arms up to pull the gag from my mouth, my jaw flexing once I’m free. Ignoring Arseni’s command, I rest my forehead against my arms. The urge to escape is so strong, I almost do what he says, but I can’t see how it will help my chances. It’ll only do exactly what I explained to Tall, which is compromise my character.

Take from me if you must, butdo notask me to give.

Another difference between Arseni and Tall: Arseni does not take no for an answer.

His palm connects with my rear,hard,so much harder than it had when he caught me in the woods.

“Spread your legs,” he repeats in the exact same tone, no hint of increased anger.

When I don’t comply immediately, he hits me twice, making me cry out at the sting.

“Stop,” I say, trying to shift from beneath him. I swallow and try to summon the speech I gave Tall, the one that seemed to work. The one he could understand.

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