Another shock tore through me and I gripped the railing, completely hanging over the edge. A moment of vertigo set in. “What are you doing?”
“You need to calm down and let some emotion out. You’re going to get yourself killed if you don’t start listening.” There was no mistaking his words. I was able to hear him perfectly with no sign language needed. He didn’t provide a further explanation, but he didn’t need to. He brought his hand down twice against my bottom.
There was no opportunity to recover before he cracked his palm against both cheeks four additional times. Tears sprang to my eyes, the deep anguish beginning to surface.
His exhale was deep and as anguished as the cry that slipped from my lips. He continued the spanking, moving from one side to the other until I finally started to squirm once again.
He had a firm hold of me, his strong hand on my back keeping me locked in the position. It was wretched, but felt perversely safe, protective.
The reality was beginning to sink in and I didn’t bother trying to stop the tears. They were just beginning. As a few fell to the cold, hard concrete, I envisioned the last time I’d been with Charles and the time he’d brought me flowers after my first solo.
After a mysterious admirer had done so before him.
I was jarred back to the present by the rhythm he was using, the echo of his palm crashing against my skin vibrating deep within, igniting a flame I couldn’t acknowledge. I cinched my eyes shut, no longer bothering to fight him. I’d save that for another time, another place.
Right now, I needed to stay alive until I developed a plan. The police had to help me. That was their job.
He suddenly stopped and I cocked my head, able to catch words that I didn’t understand; not only were they muddled because of my poor hearing, they were in Russian.
Another reminder I was in the hands of an enemy.
After a deep exhale, he caressed my heated skin, the rough pads of his fingers more soothing than I’d admit. I hung my head, thevertigo continuing as a wave of darkness pooled in my stomach. How could this have happened?
“The situation is impossible, but I’m the only help you have now. Can we talk?” His voice was strong, strengthening my body’s treachery.
“Yes.”
He hesitated, keeping his hand pressed against my bottom. The simple action was far too intimate. My core was on fire, my pussy throbbing. I was completely disgusted. How could I feel anything at all? My brother was dead. This man was a monster.
He pulled me into his arms, cupping my face with one hand and his eyes darting back and forth across mine.
I took several gasping breaths, forced to cling to him for fear of falling.
He held me steady. “Just try and take one breath after another. Nice and slow.”
A dull ache had already formed behind my eyes, the exhaustion brimming in every muscle with tiny prickles. Thinking clearly was a necessity, yet I couldn’t put a single cohesive sentence together.
When I was able to breathe easier, I tried to push away from him, but he refused to let me go.
“Don’t. Just don’t. Please. Let me go. Just…” For all the strength I’d told myself I had over the years, learning to cope with tragedy after the death of my parents, I was forced to realize I was much more fragile than I’d believed.
Another round of tears came quickly and easily, the racking sobs creating a horrific ache in my stomach. How could this have happened? Why? Why would someone kill Charlie, the sweetest and kindest man on Earth?
The realization I was likely in the arms of the killer jolted me into action. I drove my fists against his chest several times while the tears clouded my vision. “Why did you kill him? Why? Why?”
His gripped my face once again, only this time his hold was rough, jerking my body while forcing me to stare directly at his lips.
“Marissa. Read my lips. Please. I had nothing to do with killing Charles, but I promise you that I have every intention of finding out who did. When they’re located, I assure you that they will pay a hefty price. Consider that a promise.”
I lifted my gaze from his lips to his eyes, studying the flecks of violet and gold I hadn’t seen before. Words wouldn’t come, the harsh reality stripping away everything that was decent, replacing them with hatred and rage.
“I swear to God,” he added. When I finally began to fade, slipping into a soft blackness, he pulled me closer, pressing my face against his chest. “It’s okay. You’re safe with me.”
Safe.
In my mind, there would be nowhere safe again.
CHAPTER 8