Page 119 of Voracious

I’m a fucking prisoner in my own body and I can’t move as a tear rolls down her cheek, splashing onto mine as she strokes my face and promises everything but fucking staying here.

“I’m sorry. You’re my favorite person and I can’t let you get hurt. She’ll melt you and I’ll have to watch again. Don’t hate me, please. I’m sorry.” My hellion sniffles and continues kissing my forehead while breaking my heart. “It’s okay, you’ll be safe, if I come back, I promise to make it better. To never hurt you again. Dima, I’m sorry for not being a person, for not being real and tricking you.”

Everything goes black, my senses cutting off with her apology being the last thing I hear.

People are talking.Two hushed voices and neither of them belong to my woman. I sit up before I’ve opened my eyes and I’m not on the floor. The sofa is under me, and I look around the room, searching the space for my hellion, but Val and Tali are uselessly standing opposite me. Val’s holding a blanket that’s missing a corner with Tali next to him, and all of us ask the same question.

“Where is she?”

Whatever the fuck she drugged me with is out of my system and there’s an IV in my arm. I pull it out without any care for the vein it’s in and go through the house, searching every room for my fucking life.

She’s not in the gym but she only ever goes in there when I am, it’s part of her routine while listening to her book becausemy woman thinks it’s boring unless she has an opponent and I refused to spar with her.

The kitchen is fucking empty, but I open cupboards like she’s suddenly become a contortionist and hidden in them.

The staircase shakes as I take the steps two at a time and I don’t even know which fucking name to call out. So, I do them all.

“Ana?”

No answer.

“Vanya?”

No answer.

“B?”

Pain splinters my chest as all the rooms are empty, untouched, and she’s not sat on the roof. Her bag isn’t fucking here but her stickers are still in the closet, the boxes taped and untouched. Checking to see if a car is missing reveals nothing. She’s too fucking clever, knowing I’d track it, and her phone is on the kitchen island. There’s nothing for me to fucking find her.

Val moves behind me as I invade her privacy and check her call logs.

“She told me to come here. There were some instructions to make sure you were okay and a bag of fluids.”

Fuck his explanation.

“Get the fuck away from me, Valentin,” I grit.

In what fucking world would I be okay when my life has disappeared. I don’t give a fuck that she drugged me as long as she was here when I opened my eyes with a smile on her face and a laugh in her eyes. That’s how it should be. Not this fucking shit that’s worse than death.

The name at the top of her message thread has rage burning through me as the dumb fuck asks, “Who’s Amon?”

Ana:

I want the address

Amon:

She’s landing in LaGuardia in two hours

Don’t tell anyone else

You’ll have one hour alone. Use it wisely.

She. Yulia. My hellion has gone alone to the one person who has done everything but kill her. Checking the time shows that the bitch has already landed, and I move without any fucking destination. Her brothers, uncles, whatever the fuck they are, say something, but I don’t hear it. She went to that fucking cunt on her own, the bitch tortured her for years and now Yulia’s going to have my fucking life in her clutches.

Vlad’s call comes through as I drive for my life. My hand moves with the conditioning of always answering despite not wanting to.

He hesitates and flows between anger and sadness as he says, “I don’t know if she’ll answer my calls, but Yulia will be here in an hour. If she wants to be there, I’ll send you the location.”

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