Page 89 of Deadly Knight
The next time I wake,I’m faced with Dimitri’s bloodshot eyes. Purple blots beneath his eyes, and his hair’s messy like he’s run his hand through it a few times. Streaks of red stain his face, and while I can guess where they’re from, I’m not sure I want to.
“Did you sleep?”
“No. I didn’t want to miss a moment of this.”
Oh.Although the ghosts of my past are begging me not to, I pull myself free. We’re on the bed, not the floor; guess he carried me here when helping me through the nightmare.
He doesn’t let me get far before he’s hauling me back to his chest, his own noise of desire louder than my frustrated one.
“Did you do what you needed to?”
“I wouldn’t be back if I didn’t.”
“I’m safe now?”
He hesitates when replying, his agreement more of a hum. “Mhm.”
“Thank you.” So he has no reason to keep me here, which means staying firm in my decision and saying what I must. “You have to let me go, Dimitri.” Not only to Toronto, but in this bed as well. Sleep, when I was unaware, is one thing, but awake, conscious? My confused brain can only handle so much, and if I have any hope of rebuilding my safety walls, we must remain distanced from one another.
“Never.”
“Ten years ago, I asked you to leave me alone, and you didn’t.”
“You’ve been running from the horrors of that night and lumped me into it.”
“The Bratva?—”
“Owns my loyalty but isn’t the same organization that existed back then. Vanessa told me about the trip you two took the other week, so don’t you dare lie to me and say you don’t believe it.” His eyes flash in the morning light with something dangerous, a dare for me to do exactly that.
Instead, I ignore the dare to instead try to pull away, put it’s like trying to break from a steel trap. A trap that abruptly rolls, tucking me beneath him. Knees encompass my hips, his arms on either side of my head.
I don’t know how to breathe. Don’t know if Iwantto breathe. This is a dream and a nightmare all wrapped into one. Being beneath a guy… I haven’t been able to since that night. Any sex I somehow managed to have was done with me on top, but Dimitri is like coming home. My body reminds me of how to trust—butonly him.
He props his elbows beside me, which lowers his body, his nose brushing mine and his lips a fraction away, reminding meof two weeks ago when he kissed me. Tricked me into being locked in his bathroom. The kiss might have awoken a part of me I long let die, but it can’t resolve everything else. Especially not the fact I continue to not be in control of my life and years of work got wrecked within a single night. Of me not being any better than I was a decade ago, for him or for myself.
Before he gets nearer, I jerk my head to the side, my breaths stalling before tears threaten to reveal my emotions. “Dimitri…I can’t. Nothing’s changed.”
“My father will never bother you again,” he states firmly, grasping my chin and forcing me to look at him. “It’s over. He’s why you ran, and you don’t need to anymore.”
“It doesn’t work like that,” I whisper around a throat filled with emotion. “He’s not entirely why I ran. I left toheal. And so you could as well. I’ve been better, but I’m not whole yet.” Will I ever be? “When we were together, we were practically kids who had no idea what real life is like, but now reality’s a splash of cold, hard facts. You have your role, and I have mine. I made a life in Toronto, Dimitri. Friends. A home. Nightmares occasionally plague me, telling me I’m not ready. Pretty sure I’ll never be.” Putting aside I don’t believehe’sbetter either, but knowing any mention of his mental health will be met with frustrating denial, so I remain silent on all thingsusand only focus on myself. “I can’t do this to myself…can’t stay here. For the same reason I told you on my front step all those years ago, I need to get away.”
His jaw clicks, his eyes turning to ash, and he lifts slightly off me, allowing me to breathe a bit easier. “Twenty-four hours. That’s all I’m asking for.”
“A day won’t change my mind.”
“Maybe not, but I need these hours, Katya.Youneed these hours.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Do you trust me?”
Trust him?Could I? Should I?
A part of me has always trusted him. Has always known he’s the safest soul on this entire planet for me. Trusting him means opening myself up to all the things he’ll want to know and the things I’m hiding from us both.
“I don’t know.”
He winces. “I’m asking you to, then. For a day.”
