Page 32 of Demetri
My eyes fly open, and I sit up in bed gasping for my next breath. My heartbeat is erratic, and my body drenched in sweat. I blink my eyes in rapid succession, trying to clear the fog from my brain. For a moment, I forget where I am. Then it all comes rushing back. The attack at Charley's must have been what triggered the dream. I haven't had a nightmare in months, but each time I do, it's the same. Each time they feel so real. It's like I can still feel his filthy hands on my body. I can feel the weight of his body as he took what was not his to take. I can smell his cologne and the stench of his breath. Suddenly, I can't stand the feel of my skin. In a frenzy, I kick the sheets away from my body as a sob escapes my mouth, and I stumble out of bed. Rushing into the en-suite bathroom, I flip the light on. My trembling legs carry me over to the bathtub where I tear the shower curtain back, and my hands shake as I fumble with turning on the hot water. I am near hysterics as my vision starts to blur and uncontrollable tears stream down my face. Once I get the hot water on to full blast, I strip out of my panties and climb into the tub. The scolding water stings as it rains down on top of me, turning my pale skin red, but I feel no pain. I want his smell gone. I want to erase the memory of his brutal touch. I don't know how many times I run the washcloth over my body or how long I have been in here, but I feel like it's not long enough. Like no matter how raw I rub my skin, it will never be enough to erase the vile things done to me.
15
Demetri
We've finally landed on Montana soil; back where I feel most at home. Dealing with Sergei's unfortunate but necessary death proved to be the only way to make my message heard. Word spreads quickly in the world of organized crime, and his death and the death of the men associated with his betrayal served as a potent reminder in my community I stand resolute. The Volkov Empire is strong, and it is not for the taking. I will spill the blood of those who dare fuck with what is mine.
Stepping off the plane, I inhale a breath of crisp air.
"I'll retrieve the car," Victor says, slinging his black duffle bag over his shoulder.
'I'll walk with you," I tell him needing to stretch and move my legs after the long flight. Shoving my hands into my pockets, we stroll through the small airport before entering the parking garage. Victor pulls the keys to the SUV from his pockets, unlocking the doors. Instead of sitting in the back, I climb into the driver's seat. "Keys." I hold out my hand, and Victor tosses them. I glance down at my wrist to look at the time. It's early morning — around 2:20 am. Putting the key into the ignition, I tell Victor, "get in touch with Jake's guy, Grey, and let him know he can expect us in thirty minutes." Leaving the garage, I head toward The Kings' clubhouse with one person on my mind. Glory.
Driving helps to clear my head. I need to declutter all the bullshit from the last two days floating around in my head. All I keep thinking about is the phone call I received from Sasha hours ago.
"Is she okay?" I demand as I storm out of the kitchen heading back to my office.
"Miss Keller is doing fine, Mr. Volkov," he assures me, and I let out a heavy sigh. "But there was an incident. That is why I am calling."
"What the fuck happened?"
"Her and the ladies were enjoying themselves down at a local bar here in town called Charley's." He begins to fill me in, and I recall having drinks at Charley's a time or two with Logan. "A couple of men approached her while she was helping a young waitress. One of the men roughed her up a bit by shoving her against a brick wall."
Knowing Glory is safe, puts my mind at ease. However, as much as I'm worried about her physical condition, I'm just as concerned with her mental state. I continue to replay the call.
"The men?" My fist clenches at my side at the thought of a man putting his hands on my woman.
"Dead," Sasha states.
"Where is she now?"
"We're on our way to The Kings' clubhouse," he confirms.
"Good. I don't want her leaving the clubhouse until I get there. I'll be on a flight back to Polson in a couple of hours."
"There is one more thing, boss," Sasha quickly adds.
"Speak."
"Glory said one of the men had a thick accent. She said it sounded like ours."
"Russian?"
"Yes, sir."
"Spit it out, Sasha," I growl.
"He said Volkov needed to learn a lesson."
The hairs on my neck stand on end, and my blood runs cold — first the box, now this. My grip on the steering wheel tightens the more I process everything.
"Don't let her out of your sight. Understand?"
"You have my word."
"I want more than your word, Sasha."
"I'll protect her with my life, Mr. Volkov."
