Page 26 of The Bratva's Christmas Bump
“What a great father you have.”
He doesn’t meet my eyes. “You don’t need to defend him.”
“I’m not,” I mutter. “It burns when I swallow and I can still feel his hands around my neck. I’m not defending a damn thing. I’m just…” I’m tired.
“Come here.” Maxim’s hand gently grasps my wrist and guides me deeper into the bathroom where a gigantic oval bath is slowly filling with hot water and bubbles.
Steam rises, gradually erasing me from existence in the mirror. Maxim releases me once I’m next to the bath, then he turns to the sink and opens the lower cupboard. From there he removes a small red bag which, once unzipped, shows an array of medications.
“Are you allergic to anything?” he asks, glancing over his shoulder.
“No. Nothing I know of.”
He pops two white pills out of a packet and lays them next to the sink. “Take these. They will help.”
“With what?”
He rezips the bag and faces me. “Everything.”
After ensuring the bath is at a good temperature, Maxim steps out of the bathroom and promises me fresh clothes on the bed in the adjacent room. Then I’m alone.
The warmth radiating from the tiled floor and the bath is enough to make me sleepy. My defenses are low after the chaotic events of the past two days. I couldn’t tell you what day it is, or what time it is. It was dark in the woods, and I almost made my peace with death until Maxim found me.
Eyeing the pills, I debate taking them. Drugging me would be fruitless since I’m already his captive. Maybe they really will help. I debate until I’ve removed all my clothes, then I pop the pills on my tongue and chase them with a mouthful of water from the tap.
Pain lances through my cold foot when I step into the hot bath, and I hiss through my teeth. Gradually, the pain leaves, and I sink down into hot water that encases me like a cocoon. Gentle vibrations move through the water from a machine within the bath, caressing my aching muscles and throbbing body.
When I close my eyes, I’m back in the woods running until I tripped and twisted my ankle. Hiding that’s been easy until now. The heat of the water radiates against my bruised, marred flesh and as the cold within me melts away, the pain from the sprain flares up. But just as I register it, it begins to fade and within thirty seconds, I’m pain-free and completely mellowed out. The water runs like silk against my fingertips, the bubbles caress my skin with aching gentility, and the heat draws me down into a deep place of aching calmness.
“What did you give me?” I ask Maxim twenty minutes later after I’ve pried myself out of that heavenly bath and dressed in the grey tracksuit he laid out for me.
“Did it help?”
“Maybe.”
“Then it doesn’t matter.”
“You expect me to trust you but you won’t tell me what drugs you gave me?”
Maxim stands in the kitchen with several pots bubbling away in front of him. A mouthwatering scent rises from them and suddenly, my stomach growls loudly. Maxim turns to face me with a light smile playing on his lips. “If you didn’t trust me, you wouldn’t have taken them.”
“Maybe I was hoping they would kill me.”
“Were you?”
“Take a look at the past days of hell and you tell me.”
Maxim grimaces slightly. “They don’t have a name. They’re a personal blend of some strong painkillers, a muscle relaxant, and something to calm the mind. You needed something to help you relax.”
“So you can take more advantage of me?”
Maxim’s hand pauses while stirring and he fixes me with such an intense, hard look that my breath catches in my throat. “I would never,” he says with such power in his voice that I’m struck by a sudden wave of guilt. He starts walking toward me and stops a foot away.
“I would never touch you in any capacity, except to save you, without asking first.”
I swallow, but the lump remains in my throat. “You touched me in the woods. And at the altar.”
“All of which is part of saving your life. But now?” He steps forward. “You’re hurt.”
