Page 94 of Unforgiving Sinner (Starukhin Bratva)

EDEN

I don’t knowhow long I stayed there. When I wake up, Dominika sits in a chair, doing her needlework and humming softly. I don’t want to talk to her. I want to be alone. But Dominika notices I’m awake and puts her needlepoint on her chair. She sits on the floor with me. She reaches over and brushes her fingers through my hair.

“It hurts now,koshka,” she whispers. “But in time, the pain will fade.”

She pulls me against her, cradling my head, and lets me cry. The warmth of her body comforts me. Her familiar perfume fills my nostrils. I take a deep breath and exhale slowly. It does hurt. The tears fall harder and faster until I’m sobbing uncontrollably. Dominika holds me tighter and whispers soothing words. She rocks me gently, and I sob in her lap until the tears finally stop.

My voice is hoarse, but my words are clear. “Did he send you?”

She frowns a little. “No. Nikolai Gennadyevich said you needed time alone.”

“He can go to hell.” My voice hardens. “I hate him.”

Dominika shakes her head. “You don’t.”

“Why?” I ask.

“Because he loves you,” she whispers. “And deep down, you know you feel the same.”

My eyes meet hers. “What? But he …” I trail off.

“If he didn’t love you, you would not be here.” Dominika leans closer. “You would be dead.”

I stare at her. “He’s a monster,” I whisper. “He used me.”

“But you still love him,” she says. “You may not be able to say it. But you do.”

“That was before I knew the truth,” I sniffle.

“Then why do you cry?” she asks. “If you hate him?”

“I don’t know,” I say honestly.

“You cry because youwantto hate him,” she replies softly. “But you can’t.”

I don’t know what to say to that, so I pretend like she didn’t say it. “Why are you helping me?” I ask.

Her smile fades somewhat as she averts her gaze. “Because someone has to.”

48

EDEN

TWO WEEKS LATER

My head is poundingas I slowly open my eyes. Nausea hits me like a tidal wave, knocking me onto my back, and I clamp my hand over my mouth, desperate not to retch. I lie there, disoriented and weak. Slowly, my vision clears, and my stomach settles down.

I’ve been avoiding Nikolai for two weeks, and he has let me. I don’t wait for him to come home, and he doesn’t ask for me. And when I do see him, he scowls at me as if this is all my fault before he walks away.

Dominika told me he loved me. Well, he’s doing one hell of a job proving it.

I roll out of bed, stagger to the bathroom, and splash water on my face. My reflection stares back at me. My eyes are bloodshot, and my face is puffy. I can barely recognize myself. Nausea hits me again, and I race to the toilet, retching violently into the bowl. I cling to the edge of the seat and dry heave until the wave passes.

I stand up and lean against the counter, gripping the edge with my hands. My chest tightens as a sob escapes my lips. I close my eyes, but tears escape and stream down my cheeks. It feels like someone ripped out my heart and stomped it into a bloody pulp on the ground.

The sun is rising later and later now, and shadows have started lengthening as summer heat begins to give way to the cool hints of autumn.

Opening the cabinet, I stare at a box of unopened tampons in the back. How long have I been here? How long since we had sex? I should’ve gotten my period by now, but I haven’t. The thought of a baby makes me sick. Sicker than the knowledge that Nikolai won’t let me go.

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