Page 49 of Volatile

He should probably see someone about that and figure out why he’s fucked in the head, but I value my life and walk away.

There’s blood on my shirt sleeve which gets Stasi’s attention straight away as I take the seat beside her. I expect her to blow up, scream at me, or call me a prick. But she doesn’t. Her eyes go wide, and she grabs my hand, uncaring about anyone around us as she drags me through the house into the coldest bedroom in existence. All the walls are white and there’s nothing comforting about the space; the bed is small as fuck and there’s no other furniture. When she sits me on it I nearly get pegged by one of the fucking springs and then her hands are on me. Her fingers touch every part of my skin she unveils until she lets out a harsh breath and becomes the fake-ass bitchy persona she uses as a shield.

“I thought you were hurt, you could have said something.”

She didn’t give me a chance to speak, and I pull her to stand between my thighs. There’s more to the story with Borya and her whole family, I want to know and try to find an avenue that she won’t shut down.

“Spend the night with me, not to fuck and leave before I wake up.”

The caveat is needed, she’ll disappear on me otherwise.

Her hand is wrapped around the hem of her dress at each side, and I shrug out of my jacket, draping it over her shoulders. It covers more than the dress and I know she didn’t pick it with how uncomfortable she is. It makes her soften and her fingers play with my hair as I stare up at her, hoping a dopey grin will convince her.

She speaks slowly and contradicts herself. “Don’t make this into something more, I like spending time with you.”

I kiss her chin and hug her thighs as I beg, “I like spending time with you too. I want to do it without my dick being inside you. Stay with me, malysh, not in this servant room, but your bed or mine.”

She turns rigid at my descriptor and peels my arms off her to step back, her eyes muted and her voice is worse as she says, “Not tonight, I’m busy, puppy.”

All the usual heat of her playfulness is missing at the nickname, and she turns, walking out of the room.

SIXTEEN

Anastasia

Ican’t stop thinking about the puppy, my mind has even developed a Vitali voice and conjures up theories like he would. Fucking someone bare has a certain level of intimacy, you can feel each way they move and flex, that’s why he’s in my head. Whatever he said or did to Borya has my mother being nice to me; she doesn’t speak to me, which is the nicest, most loving thing the bitter cunt is capable of.

The jazz music floats through my headphones, so I don’t have to think in preparation of the fucked-up things I’ll witness at the auction tonight, and I start on my research. Vanya knows someone who has managed to get me in, and her head pops up as she walks in without knocking. If it was anyone else I’d call them a rude fuck but it’s not intentional because she doesn’t have the same social understanding as other people.

Despite her being absolutely, certifiably insane and terrifying, she’s the one person I don’t feel judged by.She’s one of the only people I don’t try to hide from and the scar under her jaw is highlighted by the dark ink on her neck. The jagged line doesn’t have any emotion on her face, she just accepts life and moves on; I wish I could do the same.

There’s a duffel bag in her hands and she drops it beside the sofa before examining the screen with her anger coming out.

“I know them two at the back.”

I push my headphones down, letting them rest around my neck as she climbs over the back of the sofa and grabs my laptop to stare at the image. Her jaw hardens and she adds, “Casey and Roberts. They only buy for parts and use the bodies for transport.”

Thankfully she changes the conversation and pulls out a bunch of random shit from the bag.“You’ll see The 3, they all wear cufflinks and they’ll bid on different things. Rowan won’t be there because there’s no children, but I think the other two will be.”

I’m half intrigued and half in fear of my life at the things she knows when the door opens and Vitali walks in as though he belongs here. Vanya has a key, but that prick doesn’t, and I’m dressed like a slob, like my true self, making my voice rougher.

“Knock, you rude fuck.”

The asshole stands on the wrong side of the door and taps his knuckles against the wood, shouting, “Honey, I’m home.”

Vanya laughs and stares between the two of us as he kicks the door closed before pouncing on me and grabbing my shoulders in an attempt to pull me over the sofa. I lash out verbally and throw my elbow back.

“Get off me, you freak.”

Vanya is officially my favorite when she slaps him in the mouth with the back of her hand then sets my laptop on the table without even exerting any energy.

“Don’t touch her if she doesn’t like it.” She smiles innocently at me, and I’ve never been more thankful a psycho likes me.

Vitali bullshits an excuse to get rid of her that makes her smile drop. “Your dad was looking for you, something about the fight tonight, and he’s going to kick Dima’s ass if he lets you go to it.”

He’s such a dickhead and she believes him, storming off to go to war with Vlad.I don’t think he’s supposed to let it slip that she’s Vlad’s daughter in front of me. Around everyone else she’s still called Ana, but she told me herself when she had one of her strange meltdowns and started talking to herself.

When the door closes, I look up and he remains at the back of the sofa as he bends to press his lips to my forehead, forcing me to ask, “You’re not good at keeping secrets, are you?”

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