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Authors: Riley Rollins
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comfortable. Come out when you're done."
"Okay," she says, apprehensive. I know what she's thinking. She's wondering what happens after that. She's not going to like it.
She enters the bathroom, and I step out of the guest room, latching the door behind me. I exhale hard and rest my elbows on the loft railing, overlooking my home. I take a minute to appreciate everything I've earned while working for the Bratva.
It would be so easy to grab her, stuff her in my trunk, and deliver her to Petrov. I'd get my bonus, she'd be off my plate, and I'd be back in Petrov and Grigory's good graces. I wouldn't have to risk losing everything. And I wouldn't have to experience these fucked up emotions anymore.
But I can't do it. I can't betray her like that. No. I'm going to keep her safe from those animals. Keep her here, in secret, until this whole episode is a forgotten footnote in Bratva history. As long as I deliver on my next few missions, all will be forgotten, and I'll find a way to get her out of here eventually. Get her a new start in life.
Right now, though, I can't take the risk that she'll run.
When she emerges from the guest room, her hair is ruffled and she's changed into tiny gym shorts and a t-shirt. I must be gawking, because she says, "Sorry. This is all I had in my locker."
I want to tear those clothes off her gorgeous body. I want to make her mine, all of her. Every hole. That body I've seen so many times, but never had for myself. It's driving me wild.
But I need to focus. "Back in the bedroom," I say, and I follow her inside.
I point to the bed. "Get in." I stare at the wall as I speak, not making eye contact, but I can see the questioning expression on her face in my peripheral vision. I don't like what I have to do, but there's no choice. She doesn't argue. She sits down on the edge of the bed, kicks off her socks, and lays back.
God, I want to jump in there with her.
I reach into my back pocket, and pull out a pair of steel handcuffs. I grabbed them downstairs when she wasn't paying attention.
Penny's eyes widen. "Hey, wh—"
I cut her off. "I can't risk you running off."
She looks at me with sad eyes. "I'm not going to. I promise."
"Can't chance it. Sorry. Put your hand up by the bedframe."
She reluctantly complies. I put one cuff into a metal loop on the frame where it can't be removed. I put the other cuff on her wrist, tightening it enough that she won't be able to get free, but not tight enough that it hurts her.
When I'm satisfied that she's not going anywhere, I stand back from the bed. "I'll be back as soon as I can." Then I add, "Do you need anything?" Catering to women is one thing that I am not used to.
"Water would be nice," she says sullenly.
I go downstairs and grab a CamelBak backpack from the closet, the kind with a long, flexible straw. I fill it with purified water, then return to the guest room and set it on the bed.
"Anything else?" I say.
"My purse. It's still in the bathroom."
I fetch it for her, and put it within reach of her free hand.
"What if I need to use the bathroom?" she says.
"Hold it."
She doesn't respond. She just breaks eye contact and stares at the ceiling.
"I'll be back," I say. I exit the room, flipping off the light switch on my way.
* * *
T he night is clear and cool, and I drive with my windows down. In the back of my Tesla sits a 35-gallon tub of hydrofluoric acid, which should be more than enough to dissolve the body into nothingness.
Nothingness, like what I feel in my heart.
Except with Penny. And that's scaring the fuck out of me. I need to get back to the comfort of what I know. And there's no way to clear your head like watching a body dissolve in a vat of hydrofluoric.
When I finally get back to West Ark, I park next to the alley and haul the tub of acid out of my trunk. Thank God, the body is still in the trashcan, undisturbed. The smell doesn't hit me until I open the lid. Good thing it wasn't a hot day today.
I start by filling the
"Okay," she says, apprehensive. I know what she's thinking. She's wondering what happens after that. She's not going to like it.
She enters the bathroom, and I step out of the guest room, latching the door behind me. I exhale hard and rest my elbows on the loft railing, overlooking my home. I take a minute to appreciate everything I've earned while working for the Bratva.
It would be so easy to grab her, stuff her in my trunk, and deliver her to Petrov. I'd get my bonus, she'd be off my plate, and I'd be back in Petrov and Grigory's good graces. I wouldn't have to risk losing everything. And I wouldn't have to experience these fucked up emotions anymore.
But I can't do it. I can't betray her like that. No. I'm going to keep her safe from those animals. Keep her here, in secret, until this whole episode is a forgotten footnote in Bratva history. As long as I deliver on my next few missions, all will be forgotten, and I'll find a way to get her out of here eventually. Get her a new start in life.
Right now, though, I can't take the risk that she'll run.
When she emerges from the guest room, her hair is ruffled and she's changed into tiny gym shorts and a t-shirt. I must be gawking, because she says, "Sorry. This is all I had in my locker."
I want to tear those clothes off her gorgeous body. I want to make her mine, all of her. Every hole. That body I've seen so many times, but never had for myself. It's driving me wild.
But I need to focus. "Back in the bedroom," I say, and I follow her inside.
I point to the bed. "Get in." I stare at the wall as I speak, not making eye contact, but I can see the questioning expression on her face in my peripheral vision. I don't like what I have to do, but there's no choice. She doesn't argue. She sits down on the edge of the bed, kicks off her socks, and lays back.
God, I want to jump in there with her.
I reach into my back pocket, and pull out a pair of steel handcuffs. I grabbed them downstairs when she wasn't paying attention.
Penny's eyes widen. "Hey, wh—"
I cut her off. "I can't risk you running off."
She looks at me with sad eyes. "I'm not going to. I promise."
"Can't chance it. Sorry. Put your hand up by the bedframe."
She reluctantly complies. I put one cuff into a metal loop on the frame where it can't be removed. I put the other cuff on her wrist, tightening it enough that she won't be able to get free, but not tight enough that it hurts her.
When I'm satisfied that she's not going anywhere, I stand back from the bed. "I'll be back as soon as I can." Then I add, "Do you need anything?" Catering to women is one thing that I am not used to.
"Water would be nice," she says sullenly.
I go downstairs and grab a CamelBak backpack from the closet, the kind with a long, flexible straw. I fill it with purified water, then return to the guest room and set it on the bed.
"Anything else?" I say.
"My purse. It's still in the bathroom."
I fetch it for her, and put it within reach of her free hand.
"What if I need to use the bathroom?" she says.
"Hold it."
She doesn't respond. She just breaks eye contact and stares at the ceiling.
"I'll be back," I say. I exit the room, flipping off the light switch on my way.
* * *
T he night is clear and cool, and I drive with my windows down. In the back of my Tesla sits a 35-gallon tub of hydrofluoric acid, which should be more than enough to dissolve the body into nothingness.
Nothingness, like what I feel in my heart.
Except with Penny. And that's scaring the fuck out of me. I need to get back to the comfort of what I know. And there's no way to clear your head like watching a body dissolve in a vat of hydrofluoric.
When I finally get back to West Ark, I park next to the alley and haul the tub of acid out of my trunk. Thank God, the body is still in the trashcan, undisturbed. The smell doesn't hit me until I open the lid. Good thing it wasn't a hot day today.
I start by filling the
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