“He tried to kill you?”
“Yes.”
“Did you kill him then?”
“Close. I beat him bad enough that he couldn’t get up again that night or for a long time after.” His right thumb strokes the nail of his left.
“But he lives, so this is all right. You must not feel bad.”
Alexei’s gaze is fixed on the table, and his expression gives nothing away. “He could’ve died. I hit him hard enough. After I beat him like that, his breathing wasn’t good.” Alexei swallows, and I see that something like a ghost lives behind his eyes. “When Egorov’s men dumped him, someone saw and called nine-one-one. At the hospital, he had emergency surgery just in time. He’s not the same. His brain never fully recovered. I think it’s worse than if he’d died.”
“Egorov is evil.”
“Yes.”
“When you think of it, do you feel sad?”
“No.” He leans back, his gaze coming to rest on me. “My job is to survive. I tried to stop that fight from becoming a death match. I couldn’t. From then on, my only job was to stay alive.”
Alexei claims he’s not sorry, but I think deep down a part of him is troubled by what happened. Because he’s a good man.
“Yes, you must fight back very hard. It is only decision you can make.” I squeeze his arm. “Bloodsport is bad place. Is this why you come to help me?”
“Partly. I wanted revenge against Egorov. He wants you, and I made sure he can’t have you.”
“This makes me glad. I like being revenge.”
Alexei rises, towering over the table, casting a long shadow over the room.
“The other reason you know.”
“I do?” I ask suspiciously.
“I already told you. I want you for myself.”
“You want my virginity?”
“I want my thirty days, so yes, I’m going to take that.”
His certainty makes me both excited and nervous. “This is not a thing to want, Alexei. Remember you are not like Egorov to barter with a personal body.” I look pointedly at the teacup and the empty cake dish. “Deep down, you are kind, I think.”
His small exhale of breath sounds amused, like I’m naïve to see him in a good light. But I know it’s true. Maybe there is some bad in him, but there’s good, too.
“Come to your master’s bed,kiska. Let’s see how kind I am.”
A little shiver of excitement runs through me at his commanding tone, which makes me annoyed at myself. “What if I don’t want to?” I challenge. “What if I say no?”
He catches my hands in his and looks them over.
“What are you doing?”
“Checking for claws.”
This almost makes me smile, but I suppress the urge. Then he pulls me from the chair, turns me slowly to the side, and smacks my ass. My breath catches and then comes out in a huff. “What are you doing?”
“Showing you what bad kittens get when they don’t behave.” His tone is dark. There’s no trace of teasing now.
For some reason, my nipples tighten and an ache begins between my legs. This is a version of Alexei I don’t know well. The one who told me to be quiet before he lifted my dress and spanked me in front of a room full of men.
