Page 41 of King of Malice
“No.” I lift my head then. This embrace, it’s holding me together when I might have fallen apart. “I…I’m having trouble with a friend. I…” I want to tell him. All of it. Let it pour out of me.
His hand slides behind my neck, supporting the weight of my head. “Oh, milaya, I’m sorry. Let me know if there is anything I can do to help.”
My mouth opens as words threaten to fall out. I want to tell him everything. Even what Steve said. I want Dimitri to tell me it’s not true. And that he’s here for me, that he’ll help me with Cadence. “Thank you,” I whisper as his lips brush lightly over mine.
“I’m here for you, Ava.”
My heart swells in my chest as I clutch his forearm with one hand, the other sliding around his waist. “If you could give me the address to the therapist…”
“I’ll drive you,” he answers. “It will be easier.”
Then he eases back, gesturing to my coffee. “Drink up. And have some breakfast. It will help.”
I do as he commands, feeling slightly better for eating.
Fifteen minutes later we’re out the door, taking the elevator down, not to the lobby, but a floor lower, to the garage.
Right next to the doors, in a private stall, is Dimitri’s car. It’s black and sleek, though I don’t even know how to drive so I have no idea what kind of car it might be.
“Go ahead, it’s unlocked.” He gestures toward the passenger door.
I’m about to tell him that he’s brave to leave his car open in this city when I look around and realize, the garage is for him alone and a metal door closes in the space. We climb into the car as the metal gate clangs open and Dimitri backs out the car.
The seat hugs me, the interior smelling of rich leather. “Your car is beautiful.”
“Thank you.” He looks over at me and winks. “Want to drive? It’s not just a luxury sedan, it’s got excellent horsepower.”
I’m not even sure what that means. “I don’t know how,” I whisper.
I see his brows lift as he steers into traffic. “You don’t know how to drive?”
“Foster care in the city,” I shrug. “Most of the families I lived with took in kids like me for the money. They didn’t have cars, and if they did, they didn’t let me drive them.”
His mouth presses into a line. “I’ll have to teach you.”
My mouth opens and closes. There he goes again, righting every wrong in my life.
The drive to the therapist’s office is short, the building beautiful. We park and he takes me up to the fifth floor where we enter a sophisticated lobby with plush carpets and comfortable couches.
Sitting together on a love seat, I feel the butterflies rising in my stomach. Despite the comforting interior, I feel out of my depth. I don’t talk about my past—ever.
I barely wanted to tell Dimitri and he’s the closest I’ve been to anyone since Cadence.
I slip my hand into his, feeling the emotion welling up in my chest again. I wish I’d slept more or that I wasn’t so worriedabout Cadence. I already feel raw and I’m going in to talk about my feelings. My worst experiences.
By the time the therapist opens the door, I’m shaking a bit, Dimitri looking at me with a great deal of concern. “You don’t have to do this if you’re not ready.”
I nod, but I still stand. Maybe it will be good. Maybe I won’t have to talk about anything other than my complicated relationship with Cadence and how worried I am.
I get up on shaking legs and follow an attractive professional woman into her office.
“Hi there, I’m Dr. Morgan, but most of my patients just call me Hope.”
“Hope. That’s a nice name for someone in your line of work,” I say and she laughs, though I’m sure she’s heard the joke before.
She gestures for me to take a seat, and I do, letting out a slow breath of air. “I know that Mr. Ivanov made this appointment for you. Said you could use an ear.”
“Maybe,” I answer, my breath hitching. “I’m not sure…”
