A part of me feels hidden from the world, from the dangers that lurk around us. It feels like, by hiding against Nikita, I’ll be safe. Truth is, I guess I’m still a kid that way. Like somehow hiding under the covers makes me invisible to my enemies. And, in just two short days, Nikita has become my blanket.
Nikita twists and groans in his sleep. I pull away the slightest bit and look at him. He mumbles and grimaces, tossing around again, mumbles again. I run my hand over his arm, hoping my touch will soothe him.
What is he dreaming about?
I lie awake, watching him until he settles in and his breath slows until it becomes rhythmic. I turn and put my back to him, pulling his arm around me, and exhale, hoping sleep will take over soon.
Instead, my brain stutters for a moment and my eyes take in more light than I expect, every part of me going on pause while my thoughts catch up. How am I lying in Nikita Lavrin’s arms without being scared?
Not one inkling of fear.
The man is a monster. He had me kidnapped. I was at the auction and saw the other girls he abducted and sold as sex slaves. He’s a killer, too. Granted, the men he killed in front of me were trying to kill us, but from what I’ve learned over the past forty-eight hours, Nikita is hardly an innocent. He’s a powerful don, with a city in the palm of his hands.
He’s the same kind of ruthless psycho as the men who drew my father into a downward spiral. He’s the type of person who would order someone to trash my childhood home, to send body parts in the mail.
And yet ... he’s more than that.
He kept me safe. He took care of me, when he could have left me to die. He made love to me.
How could a man who’s supposed to be a monster care about those things? Monsters don’t care. So, Nikita must be different.
But how different? Enough to matter? Enough for me to stay?
The question turns in my mind for a couple of minutes. I could try to run. I remember where the road is and the trail back down the mountain would be easy to follow. Even if the car is submerged in the lake, there was a ranger station we passed a couple of miles down the road. I could make it there, or hitchhike back to the city.
I sigh and close my eyes.
It would never work. The mercenary men might intercept me. They might not be as kind as Nikita. And with the way the Italian mobster drooled over me at the auction, I’m sure he’d rape me before he ended my life. He wouldn’t take care of me—of my needs—the way Nikita has done.
So my choice is no choice, really. For now, I’ll stay. Hopefully, the universe will present me with an opportunity to escape in the future. I just have to be patient and wait.
I try to quiet my mind from all the questions racing through it. Questions I don’t have answers to. And others that just make me more confused Soon, a blackness comes over me. I scoot closer to Nikita, seeking his warmth. My eyes begin to feel heavier and heavier until I can no longer keep them open and they flutter closed as I drift into a dreamless sleep.
Chapter Sixteen
Nikita
My dream ends abruptly as I’m shaken back into reality. As I wake, I’m first aware of the coolness of the air and its loamy fragrance. My clothes feel damp in the dew of the dawn. I half wonder if I’m still dreaming as my eyes open, blinking the sleep away. I feel weak and worn thin, and my shoulder and knee are still throbbing, though the pain has lessened somewhat since yesterday.
What time is it? How long have I been asleep? And most pressing of all ... what do we do now?
Annie presses against me, soft breathing emanating from her small lips. It’s so innocent and unguarded. My fingers gently rake through her tangled hair, not wanting to wake her. She’s been through so much. Between the terror of the auction and the attack by Gino’s men, her body and mind must be exhausted.
The first orange-hued rays appear over the treetops. A warm breeze chases away the previous night’s chill. I see a bird perched on a branch across the clearing. It’s pecking away the dew from its feathers and chirping into the morning air. I watch as it hears something in an adjacent tree. Its head swivels immediately in that direction, cocked to the side, fearful and ready to take flight.
Just like Annie at the auction.
It spins left and right, left and right, but no threat emerges. Cautiously, it settles back on its haunches. Then, with a soft chirp and a flap of its wings, it takes to the sky and disappears from view.
I sigh. If only we could fly away so easily.
My gut twists as bile creeps up the back of my throat. What have I done to this poor girl? Her feet are slashed up, her life fucked up ever since my men kidnapped her. Not to mention the target I put on her back the moment I outbid Gino. If he gets his hands on her, the Italian will certainly kill her, if only to spite me.
One thought rings through my head over and over again like a funeral dirge: I should have set Annie free.
Annie stirs in my arms and my gaze drops to her. She nuzzles against my chest and sighs, completely comfortable, which I don’t understand. Why didn’t she leave? She could’ve
