Page 52 of Betraying Family Vows
17
ATHENA
The air is cooler now. The ruins feel different.
The adrenaline from earlier is gone, leaving only exhaustion and a buzzing sensation all over my body.
I'm pulling my sweatshirt back on, fingers trembling as I pull my sweatpants back up, which don't tie now since they're cut.
Across from me, I watch Dimitri tug his shirt down over his head, his tattoos on his skin disappearing under black fabric that clings to the hard lines of his body. I try not to watch, but my gaze lingers. His tattoos, the bruises, the raw power of him, his hands all over me, it's all still vivid in my mind. On my skin.
I clear my throat.
Neither of us speaks. What is there to say after something like that?
Dimitri turns to look at me, his eyes scanning up and down.
"I grabbed you some shoes back at the safe house," Dimitri's voice breaks the silence. "They're in my bag. Meant to give them to you earlier, but all that shit happened."
I glance down at my bare feet, scraped and dirty from running through the ruins.
"Oh, thanks," I say, my voice still raw. "I guess I'll need something."
"Well, until then," he says, and without asking, he sweeps me into his arms.
His grip is sure, effortless. It's as if I weigh nothing.
His chest is solid against mine, his arms thick and warm.
"You can put me down," I protest, but there's no real fight in my voice. "I can walk back."
He nods and starts walking. "Yeah, and I can carry you."
I want to argue, to prove I don't need him, but my body disagrees. Instead, I let my head rest against his chest, listening to his heartbeat as he carries me through crumbling columns and fallen stones.
His embrace feels comforting now, different from the erotic undertones it just had. His muscles flex as he walks, and I feel almost secure. Protected. Wanted.
"Where are we going?" I ask.
"Back to our little shelter for now. You know, 'Plato's House.'"
I laugh.
"You keep saying that. I'm going to start believing it."
"Then it'll be our own little myth, Alepoudítsa."
I smile. "That's starting to grow on me now."
As we walk through the ancient debris, the reality of our situation crashes back into me. We're not just two people who had sex in some Greek ruins. We're still who we were before. Him a killer, me his captive. A vague vendetta between us.
The thoughts of what I did, or tried to do, flood my mind.
"Oh, have you spoken to your brothers?" I ask suddenly. "They probably want to kill me."
He laughs, but it's a bit gentler than his loud rumble.
"No. I had a phone to contact them, but it took a bullet in that gas station mess. I'll call them once we get where we're going." His arms tighten around me. "Though your little kidnapping stunt probably didn't win you any fans."
