Page 44 of Trapped By the Bratva

“Shut up,” I warned. I shot her an angry glare, daring her to try to push my buttons this time. “Just shut up and leave.” Just seeing her again taunted me. Against my wishes, I lusted for her.

That was the very last damn thing I could do now. I had to focus on strengthening myself, on getting better to go after Erik and kill him. I didn’t want the fucking Feds’ help in locating him. If they found him first, they’d kill him, and that wasmyjob. My mission.

I couldn’t deal with Hannah right now. I needed her therapy. She was skilled at assisting me with rehab. But after last night, it was difficult to face her. It was awkward between us now, and I could’ve kicked myself for letting it get to this point.

So much for not blurring the lines.

I glanced back at her, wondering if she’d be so stupid as to push her luck right now.

She blinked, stunned by the way I lashed out, but without a word, she lowered her head and turned to go.

15

HANNAH

My God. What anasshole!

I left Dmitri’s room annoyed and confused. He hadn’t lashed out at me like that since the first day I came here. Sure, we argued nonstop, but he seemed so… so…

“Wounded?” I wondered aloud as I went back to my room.

Hewasinjured. I wasn’t experienced with psych issues, but it wasn’t hard to guess that the torture he’d endured left invisible but potent scars inside him. Wounds that would require a totally different approach to heal from.

Something had to have happened between last night, when I woke up and freaked out that I’d had sex with him and snuck out, and now. Something that could’ve prompted him to be so mad. And it couldn’t have been me. I saw no way that I could be at fault for his huge mood change.

Unless he’s annoyed that I snuck out? That I left him in bed?

I opened my door and entered the guest room which was so luxurious that I never wanted to leave it. It was three times thesize of my old room at the apartment I left Melissa in. I had a bathroom, and even a little kitchenette.

I couldn’t understand why he’d be so damn mad, but there was no mistaking his sourness.

Where did he go?That seemed like the first part of figuring out what might have upset him or angered him so rashly. Earlier, I came to his room ten minutes late for the morning sessions of his exercises, and he wasn’t there. I left, assuming he gave up on waiting for me. I was late because I stalled, worried about the repercussions of sleeping with him. If he’d be mad. If he’d be annoyed.

A bigger factor in my hesitation to come to the session was the curiosity of whether he would want me again. My desire for him hadn’t faded. Not one bit. If anything, I wanted him more, and that wasn’t right. I was supposed to be professional. Nothing about this was professional.

“What the hell?” I mumbled as I paced in my room. Each step was a reminder that I’d given him my virginity. That I’d had sex last night. The tenderness between my legs wouldn’t disappear, and every time I felt it, I was taken back to that tense moment just before coming.

I want it again.

But I shouldn’t.

I doubted he did, with how he pushed me away.

This hot-and-cold nature of his wore on me. One minute, he could cave and call meDarlingor hisgood girlin that deep baritone. The next minute, he shouted and told me to leave.

If this were any other day, I wouldn’t have listened. I would’ve stayed and insisted on a session of his rehab moves because I was used to his stubborn prickliness.

Dmitri was extremely reluctant to doing what I told him to do. The man was a leader, not a follower in nature. He obeyed in the end when I corrected his posture and guided him through exercises, but only when hesawthat I was right and that I knew what I was talking about.

Today wasn’t happening. Not with whatever had him acting like a bear.

On a walk back toward the bed, I grabbed my phone from the nightstand. As I picked it up—too quickly and clumsily—I accidentally swiped my finger over the screen. I’d muted it. I had to. Weeks ago, I set it tosilentbecause I was sick of all the calls and texts from Melissa. She was the only person who tried to get ahold of me, and I wanted nothing to do with her. At all.

This time, I picked it up in such a way that I answered without meaning to.

Dammit!

Dmitri had me so off-balance that I wasn’t paying attention, flustered and not careful.

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