Page 102 of Graves

“Maxim. I’m sure the boys have told you all about me,” he says, a thick accent coating his words.

I shake my head slowly, doing my best to hold my composure. My eyes dart around the room, landing on my phone that is sitting on the couch across the apartment. Fuck.

Turning my eyes back to Maxim, I do my best to give him a nonchalant shrug.

“Sorry, they haven’t. I’m assuming you are a colleague?”

He chuckles lightly as he lifts a hand donned with fadedink, scratching his beard as he nods.

“Something like that, I suppose. And you are?”

“I have a feeling you already know the answer to that question,” I say cautiously, keeping my eyes narrowed and my expression bored.

His light smirk transforms into a sinister smile that sends goose bumps scattering across my arms as he tips his head back and lets out a deep, raspy laugh.

“I see what has my boys all twisted up now. You have fire,kratsoka.”

“What are you doing here?” I ask, the unsettling feeling in my stomach growing with each second he’s here.

“I came for a visit. It’s been too long, and I wanted to see what all the fuss was about,” he says as he takes several calculated steps around the island and toward me.

The closer he gets, the more I want to shrink in on myself, my past insecurities and instincts coming to the forefront of my mind. I do my best to stand tall, not moving a muscle. Men like this thrive on weakness, they want you scared and running.

“They aren’t here. I’ll tell them you stopped by,” I say tersely as he closes the distance between us, backing me up against the kitchen counter.

His chest presses against my own, his head looking down to keep his eyes on me.

“So perfect. Your eyes, they are something special,kratsoka.”

I try not to breathe through my nose as his breath fans across my face, the smell of vodka and mint intermingling and turning my stomach inside out.

“And your skin,” he continues, as if he isn’t even speaking to me but instead just talking out loud.

He reaches a tattooed hand out, brushing against my cheek when I quickly whip my head away, gnashing my teeth in reaction. In a flash, he has a gun to my head, pressing the cold steel right between my eyes.

“Careful,kratsotka. I don’t tolerate disrespect.”

My heart is hammering, my chest heaving as I keep my eyes on his, not moving a single muscle as I wait for his next move. I’ve never felt so close to death than at this moment. Not with Zayden in the cemetery, not even from all those nights at Jim’s. This is different, the air is thick with danger and tension, and I can hardly fucking breathe.

Slowly, he drags the gun down my face, not removing it from my skin as he begins tracing a line down my cheek to my neck, settling over my breasts for several seconds before coming back up to my mouth.

“Open.”

My jaw quivers, but slowly, I do as he says, parting my trembling lips as he pushes the barrel inside. He slowly begins pushing in and out of my mouth, forcing it so deep that I gag around the metal before he pulls back and does it again and again.

“You do so well,malishka. My boys are lucky indeed,” he says as he forces it deeper than before.

I try to breathe around it, but it’s practically blocking my airway. I feel a tear hit my cheek, slowly sliding down, but I don’t react other than that. His eyes drop to it, trackingthe path slowly before he leans forward, sticking his tongue out and catching it on the tip, drawing a long, slow line up my cheek all the way to my ear.

“Tell my boys to call me. We have business to discuss,” he whispers roughly into my ear, his accent sending my stomach roiling as he lets his mouth linger on my skin for another moment before he pulls away, taking the gun with him.

I take a greedy breath now that my airway has been restored, and I watch as Maxim doesn’t spare me another glance, easily opening the front door without even needing to use the scanner as he slips out of it.

My body stays frozen in place for several seconds, unable to move, to think, to process what the fuck just happened. I look down to see my hands are trembling, no, my whole body is. Before I know it, the floor is slipping out from under me, and I’m falling. I land on the floor with a rough bang, but I don’t feel it.

I lay there trembling and shaking, curled up into the tightest ball possible as I focus on the bottom of the kitchen cabinets. I can’t hear anything. I can’t feel anything. All I can do is shake and stare.

Chapter Forty-Five

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