Alik’s finger vanishes and I hate that he’s left a vapor trail of sensation behind. “So…I do what? Just sit in my room like a good girl until you say otherwise?”
“Good girl,” Alik repeats, voice low and liquid, whisky searing a path through my chest. He grips the back of my neck with one hand, the touch even more commanding because I can feel all the strength he’s not using. “Yes,moya voitelnitsa, youwillbe a good girl and stay exactly where I tell you until it’s your turn. That is the deal we’ve made.”
I can’t stop staring at his mouth. At lips that tip up in a self-satisfied smirk. A smirk that’s begging to be slapped off his face.Or kissed. Fuck.
“A deal with the devil,” I say, forcing my thoughts away from all things kissing-related.
“That’s the only kind there is in our world. Now—” Alik pulls back, stealing his body heat away. “Your turn.” He indicates at tonight’s injuries. “What the fuck happened?”
11
SERA
Ican’t decide which is worse: that Alik found me like that, bleeding and shivering and close to catatonic on his balcony, or that I had to explain how I got there.
I’m starting to lose count of how many times he’s come to my rescue, and I hate how weak it makes me look. I hate how weak I actually am.
Cazzo!I increase the speed on the treadmill, forcing my legs to move faster. My muscles burn, sweat sluicing down my spine and soaking my top. My heartbeat is erratic but I’m not going to let that stop me.
The only upside of continuously humiliating myself in front of that man is that he’s taken pity on me. I don’t have to stay locked in the bedroom anymore. I have free rein over the apartment. Whenever he’s here—which isn’t often—Alik keeps himself sequestered to his office and I have the rest of the place to myself.
I didn’t have any idea how he’d react when I told him about my night terrors but having him give me a tour of the apartment wasn’t on the list.
It didn’t take long. The hallway off the main living space only leads to three more rooms: Alik’s office (where he must be sleeping since I’m in the only bedroom), another bathroom, and a home gym. That last one was a surprise and a relief.
I confessed to Alik that I’ve been going insane locked in the bedroom, that I can’t handle being confined to a room without panic setting in. In all my nightmares I’ve been trying to escape the cell in my uncle’s basement. It turns out I’ve started sleepwalking too.
It’s been two nights since Alik found me bleeding on his balcony. I was sleepwalking that night, literally running away from my nightmares. That was a particularly bad one. Rocco, Dario—they always have a starring role. But that time, I heard a new voice. One that made me want to weep. A woman who sounded so much like my mother.
It must’ve hit hard, because I somehow managed to break out of the bedroom, find a kitchen knife and cut away restraints I wasn’t actually wearing. I must’ve sliced my leg when I dropped the knife. As for how I ended up on the balcony, I can only assume I was trying to find any way to escape.
God knows what would’ve happened if Alik hadn’t come back when he did.
Then again, I might not have gotten myself into that bloody mess if he hadn’t locked me up to begin with.
I’ve been running on this vicious mental cycle since it happened. Hating him one second, relieved he found me the next. The mental yo-yoing is exhausting, but I can’t find a kill switch for my brain. My best hope is to exhaust my body to the point I can’t think any more. Which is why I overnighted myself some new workout clothes, charged to Alik’s credit card, and am now in the home gym, glaring at the reflection of my beet-red face in the mirror.
Barely a mile on the treadmill and so far, my plan isn’t working. Instead of radio silence, my skull is getting morecrowded and my legs are wobbling like jello. The gash on my leg stings beneath the bandages.
“Christ, Sera. You used to run 5k practically every day when you were training for soccer,” I remind my reflection. “And now you can barely make half that.”
I’m being hard on myself, I know that. It’s not just that I’m out of shape. My muscles have withered over the past few months without fuel and regular use. That was how Rocco kept me weak, unable to fight back.
A position I never want to be in again.
I don’t let myself slow down, don’t let my feet stop moving. Mile two hits and everything starts to get more painful. My feet burning, my lungs screaming. I grip the sides of the machine, leveraging what little upper body strength I have to keep myself going as long as possible.
Another five minutes and I have to stop. My heart is clogging my throat when I stagger off the machine. Spots dance in front of my eyes and I stumble forward.
Shit. I’m so dizzy it’s hard to see straight. There’s a water jug in the corner. I make my way toward it but only get a few steps before I stagger.
“Shit! Marya.” Alik appears out of nowhere, grabbing me by the elbows. “What the hell are you doing?”
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. He’s here, catching me again.
“Where did you come from?” I writhe out of his grip.
He hovers too close, ready to spring if I so much as lean sideways. “Why the fuck have you been running?”