Page 30 of Deadly Knight
The memory makes me shiver. From the beginning, I recognized the danger in him. He radiated it in his actions, his mannerisms, conversations, and even his clothing. He held himself a certain way. Talked to others a certain way. It suggested he was familiar with power, which everyone assumed came from his rich family.
I eventually learned all the other reasons. I also got to see the Dimitri he projected was not the real person. No, the true Dimitri was so much better.
After first seeing him across the courtyard, I spent the week seeking him out in the hallways. The day I formally met Dimitri was when learning, while he may look dangerous, he wasn’t the one to fear.
The party’s winding down, but Andrei insists on remaining longer. The time on my phone ticks closer to curfew, making me anxious. I’ll be late if we don’t leave soon, and then I’ll get grounded. Whenever I mention this to Andrei, he ignores me and continues drinking with the group he decided we’re hanging out with.
He’s six beers in and his gaze is glassy, but he’s my only option. The party’s at a classmate’s house way out in the countryside, and Andrei drove us here. To go home on my own means a few hours’ long walk beside a dead highway in the pitch-dark—or calling my parents.
I shift on his lap, and his arm tightens around my waist to keep me immobile. All night, he’s been forcing me by his side and glaring at anyone who’s looked twice at me. Being held by him is getting annoying. Other couples seem to enjoy one another’s touches, but Andrei’s causes my stomach to curl. Not only today either, but every day. As our relationship goes on, more and more of him bothers me.
All night, when I’ve tried to stand, he’s forced me onto his lap. Even when I lied and claimed I needed the bathroom, he trailed me there and back, scowling the entire way as though my bladder was ruining his night.
I shift again, telling him with my body how done I am. When that doesn’t work, I lean into his chest to appeal to another side of him, playfully tracing the lip of the beer bottle.
“C’mon, let’s go.”
Andrei scowls. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”
I lower my voice so the other guys don’t overhear me pleading. “I need to get home.”
With a heavy sigh more worthy of if I asked him to cut off an arm, he drags his attention away from the guys to me. For a moment, I see a flicker of the good guy I met a month ago, the one who asked me out to a movie. But then, he’s gone again with a blank expression, his arm loosening its hold.
“Then go. Don’t want to be with me? Leave.”
If this is his way of breaking up with me, so be it. Not being upset by this reaffirms we’re not right together.
The only problem now is the long walk I’m about to undergo to get home. I suppose I could phone Papa and hope he’s okay with coming for me…
Andrei shoves me roughly, and I barely stumble upright, tripping over his feet as I do, which makes my entire escape a whole mess of limbs.
A large body comes up on my other side, and my first thought is that one of our audience members has decided to join in on Andrei’s cruelty. A quick scan shows no one’s moved, though, their glazed expressions rapt on the drama unfolding in front of them.
A hand bands around my upper arm, the other hot on my waist. Whoever the newcomer is, he’s like a massive wall erected behind me; a shadow that consumes my own as he glares down at Andrei.
I tip my head to check who it is, only for my eyes to clash with the stormy ones of Dimitri Volkov. Wordlessly, he glances from me to Andrei, his expression growing colder.
“You lay a hand on her again, you lose it. That’s a promise, not a threat.”
Then he hauls me away before I’ve fully processed his words. Once away from the group, he swings me to a stop, pressing me against the neatest wall. His hands abandon my body, but I’ll forever feel the heat of his touch.
“You okay? I saw what thatzasranetsdid.”Asshole.
“D-da.”I smooth stray strands of hair away from my face. “Thanks.”
He smiles crookedly, which ignites a small flame in my stomach; one that Andrei’s spent the entire night slowly extinguishing. It’s followed by a tip of his head and a hand held up, an offer for me to take or leave.
“Come on. I’ll drive you home if you’d like.”
I lay my hand in his.
The night began with him saving me, and the drive home wasn’t as nerve-wracking as I assumed it’d be. Even from the beginning, being with him was natural. Once we left the party, he changed from the guy everyone else saw and showed me a gentler, less intense side.
The first day of school after the party, he showed up at my house to drive me there. We began as a casual friendship. A drive to school and back. A shared table in the library during study time. Moving his seat to be beside me in the single class we shared that semester. Little things that brought us closer together.
It’s the memories of those little things that hurt the most.
Dear Diary,
