Page 15 of Brutal Knight

I have a lot of scars. I don’t want Connor to see them. I’m glad he didn’t strip me to put me in the shower. I don’t want to deal with him seeing everything. I can barely handle him being near me.

I don’t need his pity. It might not even be real. I can’t tell with him yet, can’t decipher why he has me or if he really wants to help. All I know is that I’m stuck with him.

I finish getting dressed and rub my arms. I’m not cold, but I need warmth. I’ve been too cold for too long, and it makes me feel like I’ve been in a cooler in a morgue. Like I’ve been almost dead for too long.

I know it’s close to the truth. Dmitri’s house used to be freezing. I think he liked keeping me cold, shivering. He probably wanted me to be uncomfortable every minute of my life. And I could never have changed anything. He was in charge.

I shake my head to get the thoughts of Dmitri out. I don’t want to think about him. I have bigger problems to handle now.

I turn to grab my wet clothes from the bathroom, but before I can, the door slams open.

It happens so fast that I almost fall over when I turn to see who it is. Connor stands in the doorway, one hand flat on the door. I stare at him, my chest heaving.

A few thoughts flash through my mind. I know I should cower. I know I should retreat. I should do everything I can to make myself less of a threat.

But something inside me is different. Something inside me is tired of doing this over and over again. So even though I know better, it’s not fear I feel.

All I can feel right now is anger.

“What the hell?” I blurt, my heart thumping hard in my chest. My pulse is racing. “Ever heard of knocking?”

Connor doesn’t flinch. He stares right back at me, unimpressed and stony. My heart clenches. This isn’t the man I remember from the gala, the one who was smiling and soft. He’s not the man that untied me from Dmitri’s basement.

He’s distant. And I may have wanted him to be that way, but now, I’m not sure. He seems too distant. Like he’s more likely to do something Dmitri would.

Maybe I shouldn’t have pushed. My heart is already thudding in my throat. I feel like I would throw it up if I opened my mouth. I don’t want to back down, but I don’t want to be hurt again.

“You gave up the right to privacy when you ran the first time.”

“I d—”

“When you nearly scratched my eyes out the second time,” Connor continues, raising his voice to talk over me.

He stares at me, unflinching. I can hear my blood rushing in my ears. I feel dizzy, but not from the drugs. Those are long gone. Instead, I’m whirling with the implications of his words.

Would he have been kinder if I had never fought him?

I don’t think so.

I didn’t fight Dmitri. I was young and stupid, and I wanted to love him from the first moment.

When he hurt me the first time, he pretended to apologize after. He pretended it never happened.

So I believed him. I told myself it was my fault, that I exaggerated it. But it happened again, and he didn’t apologize. It just got worse.

So I realized it wasn’t about me or what I did. It was all Dmitri. He was going to do whatever he wanted, and I just had to suck it up and suffer through it. I couldn’t do anything to make him stop. I could try to make it less awful, but once you suffer long enough, there’s no difference between a little and a lot of pain. It’s all pain.

Just like it is now. Connor wouldn’t have been any better if I tried. So why bother?

“You’re going to get clean, and we’re going to get married,” Connor says calmly. “In that order.”

I stare at him. I’m still processing what he said when I reply, “Seriously?”

“It’s not up for debate.”

“Marry me? You have to be joking. You?”

“Is there a line I’m not aware of?”

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