Page 50 of Volatile

He pauses and strokes across my jaw with the full expanse of his hand. His words are slow, timed with the caress, as he says, “Not from you, malysh.” His voice drops to a whisper weighted with emotion. “I’d give you everything if you let me.”

The emotion infuses guilt into my bones. He deserves better, and I selfishly want to keep him in some part of my life which is only possible like this. Moving his arm off me, I sit forward and ignore how cold it makes me as he steps around the sofa.

His eyes track my body; it’s all covered after having to parade around in a dress too small for me but the lust in his eyes is no different. Blocking Vitali out before he can start speaking, I push my headphones back on and go through the list of people who might be there. Live listen is switched on and I can hear him talk to himself as he sits beside me with his food. He always orders the most amazing smelling things and I’m staring at my screen too hard when he waves his burger in my face. “Have a bite, it’s not going to kill you.”

My lips twitch at the memory and I repeat the words he once said to me. “It might just save your life.”

I’ve replayed that conversation for years; it was such a dumb thing to say but it worked.

The world is coming to an end, and I look up to see how it happens when Vitali sets his food down. There’s no building falling down or the sky ripping open through the window, but he grabs my laptop and puts it on the table. He’s gentler with my headphones and the authoritative voice comes out once I’m stripped of a distraction.

“Why did you say that?”

I refuse to get into a conversation about someone that doesn’t exist anymore and grab the bag Vanya left. He’s staring at me, but I just leave him to his food.

“Eat, I need to shower and get ready.”

I can’t blurt out the truth; he’ll get all sad and weird, he feels too much, it’s why he blacks out when he’s fighting and forces that grin on his face every day.

I leave the bag in my room and go into the bathroom, setting the water on the hottest temperature, so it removes everything else from my body and just warms more than my skin. I have a routine before we go to do any of the rescues. Wash every emotion away and bring my mind to calm with jazz, it’s the same every time, but now I have a puppy and I nearly blind myself when he walks into the bathroom as I’m shampooing my hair. Vitali doesn’t follow me under the spray, he leans against the sink with his arms over his chest and ankles crossed. Why is that attractive? He tortured me here last time, but I’m focused on his posture rather than the memory.

He stares at his shoes, lost in thought, and there’s no smile on his face or food in his hand. He slowly looks up and examines me, not my body but my face as though he’s testing it against a memory.

“Why did you say it, Anastasia?”

I don’t answer and give him my back as I focus on not getting shampoo in my eyes.

He repeats himself, unhappy with being ignored. “Asya, tell me.”

Because I remember his words every time I sink and it’s a high, teenage Vitali who made me feel like it’s possible to be someone else. The voice that builds me up is his, a stupid comment about how I could kill myself and grow into someone else to kill those who made me feel like that is all I’ve got on repeat when I’m drowning again. But it’s mine and I don’t need to share it with anyone because the girl he said it to doesn’t exist and he never knew her other than that one moment.

Finishing my shower that did nothing to relax me, I wrap a towel around me, and he pushes off the marble vanity. There’s no more questions from him, they’re all in my head as he grabs another towel and squeezes the excess water out of my hair. Maneuvering around his body, I stay silent and focus on thin air as I brush through my hair. There’s a knot building at my nape, and I roughly drag through it to break the atmospheric and physical tension.

He tuts at me and peels my fingers off the handle, then stands behind me, grooming me, and there’s no tug on my scalp as he tries to make me open up. “Verochka always has a bird’s nest on her head when she wakes up, you should see that shit before Inessa manages to untangle it all.”

His attempt at a sharing circle isn’t going to work, he’s talking about happy family times while wanting my darkest shit in return. Once he’s successfully untangled my hair, he wraps his arms around me from behind and my heart slows down to the point it feels like it’s stopped.

He doesn’t look away from me through the mirror. His lips press against my pulse point, and he leans his cheek against my temple. The air in my lungs freezes at being caught out and the sadness in his voice wrecks me.

“I wouldn’t have pushed you then and I won’t now, one day you’ll talk to me, Stasi.”

My hands move, hugging his arms and emotion burns the back of my throat. I was lost, sick of being beaten and ridiculed every day of my life for simply existing. If I tell Vitali that it will only happen again, I will become that person again if I breathe life into the memories.

Why do I feel like it’s safe with his arms around me?

He keeps his word and holds me despite the depth in his icy eyes begging me. His eyes slowly close and he takes a controlled breath that pushes his chest into my back. Panic overtakes me when he straightens and I hold myself rigid, waiting for him to leave, but he presses his lips to my crown with a hopeful whisper, “One day.”

My throat constricts, knowing our versions of one day are polar opposites. Mine is based in reality – one day he won’t be here. His is based in delusions – one day I’ll allow him into my head.

I don’t haveto focus on my own life as we enter the venue of tonight’s auction. Vitali’s hand doesn’t leave my ass after he pointed out Genevieve would recognize me, and I’m back to being the airhead. My story sells the image we need, and she looks disappointed that I escaped her clutches by impaling myself on his. She stands back, assessing everyone as we make our way to the private booth assigned to us. The raised edge at the back of the room is the only thing fully lit up and I can’t make out anyone’s features as we pass them.

Each group has enough privacy to give them the illusion that they’re alone without anyone else having enough light to see them clearly. I have to actively remind myself that we can’t bid on everyone without drawing attention to ourselves as I slip into the booth. The shadows swallow me and allow me to remove the bullshit persona as Vitali pulls me closer to his side before hauling me up and depositing me on his thigh. His lips touch my cheek, and he keeps his voice low so no one else can hear.

“I need you to stop me killing these cunts.”

The auction hasn’t even started, it’s just a rundown of what ‘items’ will be shown, but I keep forgetting that he’s not used to how sick the world is.I’m only good for one thing when it comes to what he needs, and I palm his dick through his slacks. His fingers tighten on my hip, and he drags me closer, asking for the same thing as always.

“Talk to me, sweetness.”

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