Page 37 of His Hold

The words hang between us, but I break away first, grabbing a blanket and wrapping it around my shoulders. The cold seeps in despite the fire.

I try to ignore him. Try to focus on something else. But his presence in this small house keeps pressing against me, taunting and insistent.

He doesn’t leave me alone.

Keeps circling me like a wolf pacing around its prey. Watching. Testing my patience. And when I move somewhere he isn’t, he just laughs like he’s enjoying this.

Finally, he leaves me alone. And I find myself missing him, I clutch the blanket tighter, but its warmth is a poor substitute for the heat still clinging to my skin from last night. It’s like he’s embedded himself into me.

I find him in the storage room. I take that moment to walk to the small, run-down room parallel to it with the creaky bed. He comes in not a minute after, as though he was looking to where I had gone. When he sees me occupying the small bed, he eyes me before sliding under the bed for a toolbox and going back to whatever he’d been doing.

From the slightly ajar door, I can see he is crouched and working on something along the pipes.

I sigh deeply, looking for a conversation starter. Why am I vying for his attention now, anyway? I take on my false confidence. “Take me home, Nikolai—”

He yells out, from the next room: “Again, the door is right there.”

“How can you just expect me to go out in this snow? I’m your responsibility. You should be nicer.”

He chortles. “You are not my responsibility, Krasivaya. Far from it, actually. If you’d rather be out there in this God-forsaken weather than be in the same room as me, be my guest. Go right ahead. But you know what I think? I think that you can’t stop thinking about how much you liked it yesterday. That’s why my presence seems to annoy you.”

I roll my eyes so hard they nearly fall out of my skull. “Yeah, because being trapped in a cabin with a man-child who thinks he’s God’s gift to women is every girl’s fantasy.”

He scoffs, his voice dripping with smugness. “Oh, really? You were so touched by my gentlemanliness that you started screaming and moaning?”

My cheeks burn, heat flushing up my neck. I hate that he can make me react like this. I hate it even more that he knows it.

“Do you ever say the right things?”

“You didn’t seem to mind my mouth last night.”

“Was that supposed to be clever?”

“No. Just the truth.”

“Then here’s some truth for you.” I drop the blanket, letting it fall to the floor like dead weight. “Last night meant nothing.”

“I don’t believe you.” He singsongs.

“I don’t care.”

“Yes, you do.”

“I said, I don’t care.” My voice is a snarl. But the silence on his end says he knows better.

I huff and lean back against the bed. He just resumes his work. All I can hear from him is the sound of a hammer hitting wood.

“Are you not going to tell me what that noise is about?”

“Putting some finishing touches to the house, in case the snow gets worse. And I’m making sure you can’t sneak out. Barricading the windows, securing the doors!” His gruff reply comes from somewhere just out of sight, and I know that he’s joking. “Maybe toss in a few bear traps for good measure.”

“You really think I’m stupid enough to try and run in this weather?”

“Stupidity comes in many forms. Desperation’s the worst of them.”

“Good to know that you still don’t trust me.”

“Why should I? The sex was spectacular, but I guess it wasn’t enough to erase the fact that you followed me up to this cabin, convinced I am the one who killed your sister.”

---