Page 122 of Deadly Knight
A fucking day and a half of being forced to witness past horrors. No wonder it fucked with my sense of past and present, blurring them together.
“We need to get out of here. Dimitri, you look like hell.” Vanessa crosses to my side, tucking herself beneath my arm to take some of my weight; I didn’t realize it was needed until she begins walking.
“I feel it too.”
Katya clings to my side, her hand tight around mine while she throws my other arm over her shoulder. Unlike my cousin who can handle my weight, I attempt to keep as much off her as I can.
Anastasia leads the way out of the room and into a dim hallway. I’m forced to release Katya to walk in front when we reach a set of stairs. My eyes remain on her, unwilling to let her out of my sight.
Seeing the past again…I’m torn between hiding her in a cell for the rest of her life to keep every fucker away, and setting her free to get far away from me, exactly like she’s been asking me to this entire time.
I don’t know at what point I finally understood her requests. Clearly, I was a moronic teenager who believed he could take on the world when she was already facing her trauma. I hid mine away, but she embraced hers. Recognized and accepted her limits. I was one of those limits, though I didn’t realize it. Not then, not for the past ten years, not until now.
It doesn’t stop me from grabbing her once upstairs, keeping her close for as long as she allows me to. I wonder why she’s here, how she knew to come, why she’s with Vanessa and Anastasia, fighting in a place that once was guarded, but realize I don’t want to know that answer. Not now, at least.
She shouldn’t be here, putting herself in this kind of danger. I want to demand she go home and forget what’s happening. I want to be pissed at Anastasia and Vanessa for bringing her.
I grip her tighter, my muscles crying when I squeeze her hip. Any pressure is too much, but it’s a pain worth experiencing in order to touch her.
“Stay here,” Vanessa orders when we reach the main part of the old jail. “I’ll send two guys down. Get Dimitri to the vehicle. I’ll take care of the issue upstairs.”
She helps me to a wall, shifting most of my weight against it, and disappears towards the stairs. Katya remains close, stroking my jaw over and over as she studies my injuries, the skin between her brows low. Anastasia wanders away with a whistle, pretending to be looking elsewhere.
“Why are you here?” I murmur, the need to know growing greater than anything else.
“It’s where I should have always been. Sorry for not realizing that sooner.”
Before comprehending the meaning behind her explanation, two Bratva soldiers appear in the doorway, immediately taking over for Katya, throwing an arm over each shoulder.
“Glad to see you alive, Volkov.”
Anastasia grabs Katya and keeps her close as they lead the way out of the building and into the dark outdoors. Nighttime or not, the fresh air after nearly two weeks is suffocating in that nourishing, refreshing manner. Or it’s all the injuries.
They rush me a few building lengths away and into a black SUV.
“My father?” I ask as they pile me into the back seat, spreading across two of the three seats.
“Still in prison,” Anastasia replies, easing at least one concern. “We killed Andrei and his men, no trade. Vanessa’s finishing up with Mikhail.”
Katya climbs into the back with me and stays close, her hand loose on mine which won’t do. I weave our hands together,staring at the stark difference. Not only of size, but my chipped nails and soot marks, and hers, clean and polished.
“What can I do?” she asks.
“Stay.”
She grabs my hand tighter and scoots as close as she can, her free hand resting over my heart. With her proximity, she gives me life, and my heart beats if only to feel her holding onto it.
“I won't be leaving again.”
We’ll see.
It’s bad.So fucking bad, and the only reason I’m holding it together is because Dimitri needs stability.
My lungs haven’t worked right since Anastasia turned on the lights in the room he was being kept prisoner in, and Dimitri’s condition was revealed. The cage he was slumped over inside, the room being pitch black except for the glow of the TV they had on.
We were recorded.
All at once, that nightmare of a day slams into me, echoing reminders throughout my mind. The grunts from the men. Dimitri’s growls, as he begged them to get off me. My cries and please.
