Page 69 of Volatile

The asshole has the audacity to look at me like I’m dumb and holds his hands out to the boxes as though it’s self-explanatory.

“Packing?”

Don’t kill Vitali, he’s a puppy and his family are all fucking crazy.

I rub my temples to try and meditate into a different reality because I’ve clearly awoken in one that I don’t belong in and it doesn’t help when he opens his fat mouth.

“Go back to sleep, I’ll be done when you wake up.”

Don’t kill him. Don’t kill him. Don’t fucking kill him.

My anger has my vision doubling as I swing my legs over the bed. The little freak has managed to pack up one side of the room. How long has he been awake? And why the fuck is he boxing up my things?!

My face heats at the box full of toys. There’s a line normal people don’t cross, it’s right in front of a panty drawer and it reaches to where people leave their sex toys. But Vitali isn’t fucking normal, and he has a wide grin on his face as he instructs me to help.

“If you put things in boxes that go together it makes it easier. Do you want to get that side of the room now that you’re up?”

The only reason I can come up with for his behavior is one he’s going to literally going to pay for.

“If you donate my things, you’re replacing everything.”

He’s wealthy enough to do it and I won’t even blink while swiping his card in every high-end shop that exists. He finally pauses in folding my clothes and sighs as though me asking about my own shit is an inconvenience.

“We’re not donating them, sweetness. You’re moving in with me.”

A laugh bubbles out of me, the force of it folds me in half and I have to grab my knees, so I don’t hit the floor.It’s an elaborate joke, one he’s committed to exceptionally. I can see him through my blurry vision as he seals a box and pushes it into the hallway. He doesn’t slow down or wipe the smile off his face as he starts picking up my cushions and placing them in boxes. I’m going crazy and pinch my thigh to wake up. I do it hard enough for there to be red marks but he’s still packing.

There’s no way I’ve lost time, but I still check the date to make sure I haven’t been in a coma. The last conversation we had I told him he deserves better and it’s not even twelve hours later. He doesn’t slow down, somehow he’s got another three boxes packed and I’m standing like an idiot pinching my thigh.

He doesn’t look at me and my blood roars in my ears at his blasé tone as he says, “I’m going to put these in the car, then you can make me breakfast.”

Grabbing the thing closest to me, I throw it at his head and only once it’s in midair do I realize what it is. Some of my anger lessens, seeing the bright pink dildo slap off his temple and he turns to me with shock. He finally loses his smile and drops the boxes to gently touch the red mark forming near his hairline as he stares at me.

“Did you just throw a dick at me?” He looks down at it and nods. “Yeah, you just threw a dick at me.”

My anger return as I hiss, “You said put things together that match.”

His big dopey grin comes out and I look away so it can’t affect me.Stupid endearing asshole, he can’t just fucking wake up and decide shit about my life. Vitali stomps around the boxes and I jump on the bed to get away from him. Rough fingers wrap around my ankle, dragging me down and he fits himself between my thighs. I try to push him away and he grabs my wrists in one hand, pins them above my head, and wraps his hand around my throat, pushing me into the sheets. His voice deepens as he lines our faces up so we’re eye to eye.

“You are moving in with me, Anastasia, you will fall asleep beside me, and wake up in the same fucking place.”

“When the fuck did we talk about that?” I argue back despite a part of me wanting to agree as I knock my knee into his side to dislodge him.

The immovable prick stays solid above me, and I don’t have the heart to hit into his bad knee.He squeezes the sides of my neck, filling with pride as he leans further into me.

“I decided somewhere between your snoring and your fart.”

My entire body stills, and I turn bright red, whispering, “I don’t fart.”

He’s doing it on purpose, saying dumb shit so I ignore what he’s doing.

“Okay, you were snoring from your ass.”

My lips twitch despite him being a cunt and I hate him. I’m frozen, and he adds to my confusion by planting a chaste kiss on my lips.

“You’re cute, I’m keeping you.”

Am I a fucking pet? Some lost animal that’s wandered onto his property without a collar? Fucking psycho.

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