Charleigh
“I love you.”
I am jerked out of my post-orgasmic bliss by the whisper of a man in my ear, leaving me irritated like when someone wakes you up and you’d rather keep sleeping. I grimace, forcing my eyes open and remember I’m on top of Niko, who’s still inside me. He’s brushing the hair out of my face, and if it wasn’t dark I’d probably see him looking intently at me, waiting for an equally romantic response.
But if it wasn’t night and I could see him, my response would be the same as it is right now, and that’s no response. I can’t respond to a gesture like that, no matter how kindly it’s intended.
I just can’t.
An itchy restlessness creeps over me and I want to run, as if that will get me away from it and my distressing feelings.
I silently uncouple myself from Niko and in a panic, am not sure what to do.
“I’ve told you before,” he says.
“Hmmm? Told me what?” I ask, stalling.
Oh my God. I’ve got to get out of here before I fall into a full-blown anxiety attack. My heart is already pounding in my chest. I’m on the verge of tears. And I really don’t know why.
“When you were unconscious. After the attack. I told you then.”
I could tell him how I feel about him. I should tell him. But the words won’t come. I can’t give that much of myself away when I am barely hanging on.
So I bolt.
I jump off him and run toward the house, my nightgown gathered in front of me in a fist. The grass has gotten wetter than when I first came outside, and in my haste, it behaves like ice, and I wipe out, landing flat on my chest, my hands in front to soften the fall. They don’t help.
I catch my breath and scramble to continue my escape, a little more carefully this time, until I reach the house. Praying I can slip up the stairs to my room without attracting any attention, Vadik and Kir, having a drink in the library, see me first. I’m a sight in my wild state. There will be questions.
“Hey. What’s going on out there?” Vadik asks.
I approach the doorway and look down at myself. I’ve got dirt on my feet and hands and wet grass stains covering the front of my nightie, making it more sheer than it already is.
“Come in here,” Kir says, gesturing with his head. “What the hell is going on?”
I open my mouth to speak a couple times before I have any words. “I… we… I was just outside. I, um, slipped.” I take a seat at the very end of the crackly leather sofa, closest to the door.
Just in case I need to bolt.
Kir tilts his head like he’s not sure he believes me. “And… why are you out of breath? Were you running?”
I nod.
They wait for me to say more.
Shit.
“Yeah. Yes. I was running.”
Vadik frowns at me. “Running from what?”
“Well, I was… with Niko. And then I ran away.”
I do not want to talk about this. I do not.
The brothers look at each other. “And why would you run away from Niko?” Kir asks.
The panic that caused me to run in the first place is thrumming in my chest again, threatening to take away my breath, or make me cry, or both, and all I want is to escape this feeling but the fucking thing follows me around like a possessed demon more often than not these days.
Maybe I’m the one who’s possessed. Maybe I’m the demon.
“He told me he loved me,” I say in a barely decipherable voice, staring at my dirty, twisting fingers.
“Okay,” Kir says. “Is that a bad thing?”
I don’t answer. I can’t. Because I don’t know.
I finally look at the guys and I see it, that what I was running from is also right here in this room, as if it followed me. I don’t want it, I don’t need it. I won’t have it.
Fuck all.
Vadik sets his drink aside and leans forward in his chair.
I hold my breath because I’m pretty sure I know what’s coming.
“Can you… love Niko? Can you love us?” he asks quietly.
Bam.
Words I never thought I’d hear come out of Vadik’s mouth. The vulnerability makes me want to run to him, to comfort him, and to protect him. On one hand, I am honored… and yet I also feel like a caged animal.
Desperate for escape.
“I… well…” I sputter.
“We want you to love us. If you can. If you can’t, well, that’s fine too.”
My head spins and the pretty books on the library walls melt together in a jumble of leather bindings and gold lettering. Please just let me pass out. The guys will put me to bed and this excruciating conversation will be forgotten.
But I don’t pass out, dammit, and therefore I must respond. After all, it’s the right thing to do even if I am being a chicken shit. The risk Vadik took in telling me this warrants that much respect.
“I… am honored. So honored,” I whisper. “I want to tell you the same, I do. But right now, I can’t. I care about you, all of you,” I say, finally meeting their gazes. “I know that much.”
They nod, their faces covered in understanding, which makes me hate myself more. Why can’t they get angry with me? Lash out? It would make things so much easier.
That’s when Niko joins us, and I’d give my life to make the pain in his eyes go away. He doesn’t deserve the hurt he’s wearing right now, all caused by me.
“I need time,” I finally say.
It’s not much, but those three words sum things up.
I know they’re mystified, that I can have sex without abandon, yet when it comes time for emotional intimacy, I’m completely checked out. There was a time in my life when, on the receiving end of the same, I would be puzzled too. Now that I’m on the other side, I get it. If you’re not ready, you’re not ready.
Can’t force a round peg in a square hole and all that.
I want to go to Niko. But that’s not going to happen.
So I run.
* * *
It hurts, everything hurts, my limbs, my head, even my organs, and something causes the skin on my stomach to burn. It’s strange, as if a pattern is being etched, but I can’t lift my head to take a look, and in fact can’t move at all, not one bit.
“Owwwww,” I moan.
The pain ceases, then intensifies, then ceases again and I don’t understand how this can be. This is not how things work, this is not how anything works, and I’m confused and just want to be left alone so I can go back to sleep.
“Charleigh,” a voice calls, a voice that’s not in the room where they’re hurting me. “Charleigh,” it repeats.
I force my eyes open and find Niko standing over me, not touching me, but gently trying to prod me out of my nightmare so as not to scare me too much.
“Wh… what?” I mumble.
“You were thrashing and moaning. I came to check on you,” he says.
I push up on my elbows and realize I’m in my room in the big house, and no one is hurting me anymore.
I take a deep breath. The nightmares are getting old. Really old. “Thank you, Niko. I appreciate it.”
He settles into the easy chair next to my bed, and I reach for his hand, scary as it is. It’s so strange that I’d rather have full on sex than touch this man’s fingers with my own, but I need comfort right now, and God knows Niko deserves some too.
I’ve been awful. And I feel so badly.
“Why don’t you get up? We’ll get out of the house,” he suggests. “Go to the club.”
Yeah. That works. A change in scenery might help.
Forty-five minutes later I’m cleaned up, having blown out my hair, put on makeup, and dressed in some of the nice clothes the guys filled my closet with. If I can’t pretend to be back to normal, at least I can look like it on the outside.
But when we reach the top floor and exit the club’s elevator, any attempt at normalcy on my part flies right out the window. I begin to shake and sweat because none other than the Pakhan’s second is at the end of the hallway, turning into Vadik’s office.
And I don’t have my knife.
“Wh… what’s he doing here?” I ask, grabbing Niko’s sleeve.
He takes a deep breath. “Probably dropping off the ‘compensation’ the Pakhan offered you. Look, I know this is not what you want, but play along at least for now.”
I nod at Niko and, holding my head up, march right for Vadik’s office.
“Morning, Charleigh,” Vadik says when I enter.
The second says nothing, and I don’t even look at him.
“Morning, Vadik,” I answer.
I stand next to him while the two are chatting, a large briefcase on the desk between them, and my rage is back like a virulent disease, the kind that only fools you into believing it’s gone. It nibbles at my sensibilities like a hungry piranha, and I can feel myself losing my shit as creepy-crawlies make their way up my arms and then, because my brain isn’t working, my body takes over. I reach down and pull off one of my shoes and, raising it above my head, bring the stiletto heel right down on the back of the second’s hand, shattering bones and sinew and generally making a mess out of Vadik’s desk with blood spray.
The room is dead quiet for a millisecond while everyone, myself included, absorbs what I’ve done, and as the Pakhan’s second comes out of his momentary shock, he hollers and screams at the bloody horror that is his impaled hand, my high-heeled shoe sticking out of it, and reaches for his gun with his good hand.
That’s when Vadik and Niko jump into action. I am grabbed around the waist from behind and in spite of my flailing, am dragged out of the room by Niko, while Vadik knocks the gun from the second.
And as I’m pulled down the hall, out of reach of the injured second and his deranged but understandable rage, I realize the voice I hear screaming, asking for a gun, no, begging for a gun, is my own, and I can’t turn the damn thing off.