Page 69 of Deadly Knight
Moscow is where it all began. Where I ran from. Where I shouldn’t be any longer. Where all the memories reside.
I slide to the edge of the bed, managing to climb around him even though he stands, placing himself between myself and the bed, rendering the entire attempt useless.
“Take me home,” I demand without looking at him, pulling over my emotional barrier—highlighting my rage over anything else and using it as a defence.
“That would defeat the purpose of flying you all the way here, wouldn’t it?” His arms cross over his chest, a bodyguard in hisown way—an unwanted one at that. The sight of his arms, his wrist, reveals what I hoped was my mind playing tricks on the plane. The green ribbon he once wrapped around my wrist is on his, a cuff linking him to the past and proving once more he didn’t do what I asked him to. He didn’t mend himself, not if he’s physically wearing our history.
“Why am I here?” Tearing my gaze away from the thin satin, I, too, fold my arms, shielding myself, realizing I no longer know who this man is. Who he’s become in the past decade, who he’s changed into, how he’ll react. Facts that terrify me, and it’s my defensive mechanisms that have me stating, “You kidnapped me.”
“Isavedyou.”
“I never asked to be saved!” Heat floats to my cheeks as true anger builds, pushing away any gratitude. Because Iamgrateful. Despite the shock, I’m angry becausethisshouldn’t be happening. I should be in Toronto, at work, and probably in session.
Oh, shit, work. My clients.Their traumas help mine, and right now, I need it more than anything else.
“Too fucking bad,” he replies, his tone deep and dark, a threat in its own way. “You think you ever need to ask me to save your life? You should know me better than that.”
Ever.There’s a lot of history within that word.
“I don’t need your protection.” Though, without his help last night—was it last night?—who knows what would have happened in Ivan’s custody. Which only introduces more questions, ones unanswered from the plane.
“Yes,” he bites, “you do. Because to protect you is to protect my own heart, and I’m not quite ready for that to stop beating yet.”
His words knock my next ones out of me, mind whirling over the meaning behind his statement.
His chest rises and falls with paced breaths before he glances at the door, his tongue skirting the inside of his mouth. In a gentler tone, he murmurs, “You must be thirsty. I’ll get you something.”
He turns away, but I move too, placing myself in front of him, though the likelihood of having any chance at stopping him is nearly laughable. It’s now I realize howbigDimitri’s gotten. He’s always been large, a result from training, but he’s been putting it all to use. He’s not the guy from my memories, but a man. A dangerous one, staring at me with an empty soul and an emptier gaze.
“I’m not thirsty. I want to talk.”
His head ticks to the side. “Ask what you need to. I have shit to do.”
A huff of laughter escapes, because he honestly expected to drop me here and leave to do whatever it is he has to, and I’d be okay with it? “Why did you have to protect me? Why, after all these years, did your papa come after me? Why, when he called you, were you close enough to rescue me within the hour? Last I checked, Russia is a twenty-hour trip from Toronto. And no staring this time. I want answers.Verbalones.”
“Didn’t figure it out on the plane?”
Say it.This time, I’m the one doing the staring.
He shrugs. “It’s better you don’t ask about things you don’t want to know.” Then he continues past me, like that answered anything.
“Do not avoid me, Dimitri Volkov. Donotwalk away from me. I have a right to know why, after afucking decadeyou showed up in my life. What gave you the right to threateneverythingI’ve been working towards?”
“Katya, stop.” Exhaustion dulls his tone, but I don’t care how tired he is.I’mtired of the lies, because that’s all he’s been doingsince the day I broke up with him. Lying about letting the past remain in the past.
“Dimitri,tell me.”
Whatever control he was clinging to breaks in that second with a sound that echoes through the otherwise silent room.
Crack.
With a move too quick for me to catch, he spins to face me, a single step bearing down on me. Although I feel in my heart he won’t harm me, instinct has me retreating. For every pace backwards, he also steps, our dance concluding when the backs of my knees hit the mattress. He wraps his hands around my arms, his grip tighter than he would have dared in the past.
Rage flickers in his eyes, but it’s quickly extinguished for something much softer. However, his grip doesn’t loosen, and I’m not entirely sure I want it to. Our chests are close together, our panting breaths mingling, but for a moment, years of running melts away. The wall loses a few rocks, shattering the last two years to the ground.
“You want the truth,moya dusha? Ivan used you as a pawn because I never stopped caring. I was close enough to save you in time because I was in Toronto. I’vealwaysbeen there.”
My words feel far away when I whisper, “You were supposed to forget about me, to let me go.”
