ALIK
But maybe it should’ve been. I bristle at the thought, at how fast I condemn myself for leaving her behind so many times. Nothing should make me question my devotion to Rina and what I’ve done to find her, but my conviction falters in the face of this woman’s distress.
Christ. I Ignore Marya’s murderous glare and focus on finishing her dinner. The faster she’s fed the faster I can get her back into her room and away from me. Rocco’s dried blood has turned parts of my pants uncomfortably stiff; I really want to get changed and get some fucking sleep.
Garlic, shallots, capers, sun-dried tomatoes, olives. A can of diced tomatoes and olive oil. It’s all bubbling away as the pasta cooks in a separate pot. I can’t remember what the dish is called but I saw Pagano’s cook pull it together a million times. Not once did I see anyone bring some to the basement.
“Why are you making that?” Attention on the food, Marya’s glare has downgraded from homicidal to curiously enraged.
“We already discussed this, Marya. You need to eat. The doctor said you should be able to handle small amounts of solid food. Pasta seems like a safe bet, though…shit. On second thought—the sauce might be too flavorful, too acidic for your stomach…Blyad. Maybe I should’ve done just olive oil and salt.” I mutter the last bit to myself even as I put a plate of finished pasta in front of one of the bar stools. She doesn’t sit. “You need to eat. Even if it’s just a little bit. You’ll never get your strength back if you don’t eat.”
“And what happens then?”
“Then?”
“After you’ve fed me. Put some meat back on my bones. Fattened me back up. What then?” Everything from her voice to her stance is antagonistic. Damn she hates me, and that works out perfectly. The more she hates me the easier it will be to keep her locked behind the bedroom door. I never intended to share this apartment with anyone; it’s too small for the two of us. Way too small for the battle of wills we’re currently waging over rapidly-cooling Italian food.
“Then,” I answer, “we establish some ground rules.”
Marya narrows her eyes at me from her unsteady stance by the windows.
“I told you that you’re safe here. Nothing about that changes. But you need to understand that if you step out that door, there’s a world of danger waiting for you. Your uncle had plans for you, that’s why he kidnapped you in the first place. Just because he’s no longer a threat doesn’t mean those plans have changed. You’re still tagged for sale, Marya. The men Rocco was working with can’t track your precise location anymore, but that doesn’t mean they’re not looking for you. In here, you’re safe. But out there—” I wave at the world beyond the windows. “Out there is a whole different story. I’m your best chance for surviving and making it to the other side. But you’ve got to play your part.”
Marya sucks in a ragged breath. I refuse to notice how badly she’s shaking. “Which is?”
“You stay in your room. You eat and sleep and get strongagain. You stay out of my way. No more attempts to escape. No more cracks to the head. No more telling me what I should or shouldn’t have done.” I leave the kitchen, cross the open living room until I can lock eyes with her from only a few feet away. She needs to see how deadly fucking serious I am.
“I jeopardized everything I’ve been working for by saving you that night. That was a one-time deal. Next time, if I have to pick between you and my entire fucking reason for being here, you can be damn sure I’m not picking you. So do us both a favor. Be a good girl, do as you’re told, and eat your goddamn food.”
Marya’s lips are pale, pressed together too tightly, but it doesn’t stop her from forcing out a raft of Italian curses. “You’re just as bad as my uncle.”
“I never claimed otherwise. Now—” I capture her by the elbow and push her toward the bedroom, grabbing her dinner as we go.
She struggles, despite the fact she can barely keep herself upright. “I don’t want you touching me. Let go.”
Fuck me, but I do. Verbal intimidation is one thing, but I’m not going to manhandle a woman who has gone through what she has. But that doesn’t stop me from using my body to crowd her through the bedroom door, only vaguely aware of the changes she’s made to the space. Fairy lights hang from the ceiling over the bed, casting a cozy glow around us. Something Gloria must’ve gotten her…
My discomfort ratchets higher when I realize why the doctor put them there.
Marya can’t stand to be alone in the dark.
Fuck. I stumble over the thought, depositing her dinner on the bedside table before I drop it on the ground. We come to a stop at the bed, Marya’s legs inches from the mattress. Despite our size difference, she won’t cower before me. Such a warrior. I had no idea it could be such a turn on. I resist the urge to adjustmyself, my cock choosing this moment to rear its thick head. Drawing attention to my semi is the last thing either of us needs right now.
A semi that hardens to a full-blown erection when she lays into me with fiery green eyes. “Okay, asshole. I’m in my room. Now what?”
“Now, Marya, you eat.” I lift a forkful of pasta to her mouth.
“I’m not hungry anymore.” But even as she says it her stomach growls.
“Liar.”
“Testa di cazzo.”
My eyes drop to her mouth, and I have to wonder how much damage she did when she hit me on the head. It’s irrational how attractive I find her in this moment, all fierce and full of fight. Her lips part on a deep breath and, holy fuck, I can’t stop myself from licking my own.
“Whatever you’re thinking, stop right now.”
“Open,” I order, my nervous system on high alert, my thoughts spiraling out of control. “Be a good girl and open for me.”