Shoving the black t-shirt and sweatpants, I tried not to think about anything but what these men had done to me. Kidnap and threaten to kill me. They would kill me. I needed to stay vigilant and smart. Don’t waiver.
Yanking the door open, I ran right into a lean, hard chest and looked up. A large, wide, grinning face looked down, eyes swirling with worry and pain with just a hint of rage behind them. Cezar’s arms wrapped around me, pulling me in tight as he rested his head on my shoulder.
“You scared me, my Roma. I was losing my fucking mind. Even Nan and Cal couldn’t shut up. M went silent. I needed to be there for you, but Nicu… said you were fine. I didn’t know if I could believe him!” Yanking me back to face me, his whole face contorted into a scary, stoic rage that was very unlike him. “Did he hurt you? You can tell me the truth. I will believe you.”
That corner in my heart that told me I was sinking in deeper with this man grew. His concerned eyes told me the truth. He would believe me if I told him Nicu hurt me. He would stomp off right now and start a whole shit fest if I said the word. I was in trouble.
Not having the energy to lie or fight what my mind and body needed, I leaned my forehead on his chest, soaking in his loyalty and obsession with me. I needed to feel that someone in this world had my back.
Hearing his audible inhale, I sighed, wrapping my hands around his waist like an anchor keeping me afloat. “No. He didn't hurt me. He barely touched me, just helped me up. That's all.”
I could feel his hands lifting, his body tensed as he hesitated. I almost chuckled at the thought that now I was giving in to him. He was hesitant and unsure. What happened to the crazy psycho who told me we were meant to be and should never be apart again?
“I-I will take you to your room.” Grasping my hand instead, he took off in the direction of the room I was in, making sure he kept his face forward. Seeing only the back of his head, his bright red neck peeking beneath his black shirt. I almost laughed at the adorable attitude shift from my psycho killer, making him all the more human, at least until I saw the black ink beneath the blush.
The all-seeing eye stared back at me, heat blooming from the spot on my arm that appeared in my dream. I kept telling myself that it was just a coincidence, something my mind conjured up to connect current events in my dreams, but something deep in my veins, my blood, told me I was wrong.
“He’s the white dove?”
He stopped at the door to the room, heaving like he’d run a mile. “M says doves symbolize love, freedom, and hope.” His head turned, looking back at me with a crooked smile, “I can be your white dove. That works for me. Let's be doves for each other.” Doves are meant to be symbols of love and freedom. He says it like he means it. It's like he can't see the blood staining his wings.
Taking in what he said, I just stared at him, not giving him an answer either way. He puffed out a chuckle, tugging my hand to follow as we entered the room.
He guided me to the bed. My eyes snagged on the nylon rope, and I tugged back on instinct. Raw emotions swirled around in my chest, pumping my heart so hard I thought it would break through my sternum to get out. “I don't want to put that on.”
Even though my voice was strong and demanding, my whole body trembled. Flashes of the past came, those feelings of being trapped surfaced, and I squeezed his hand to keep me grounded. Calm down, Kazia. It has been over fourteen years, and the man is dead. You have nothing to fear anymore.
Muscular ink-covered arms wrapped around me like a shield, his warm chest to my back, calling me to fall into him, to be taken care of by him. His light, carefree voice drifted around me, “I won't put the rope on, but when you're ready, can you drink that drugged water and sleep?” He pointed to the nightstand, where a glass was waiting for me.
While I wasn't opposed to the idea, wanting to get a good drug-induced sleep tonight, I was also wired. With my mind on the edge, memories on the surface, ready to take over again, I knew I needed something more. Something to take the edge off and clear my mind of the past.
Turning around, I faced him in his tight embrace. “Can you stay with me tonight instead?” My sane internal voice screamed at me, telling me this was wrong. This was not the plan; I was going too deep, but my mouth kept going. “You can keep watch and make sure I don't get into trouble.” Thinking about being alone in this room with my thoughts made my skin crawl. Being the strong, self-sufficient woman I was, I didn't want to ask him for help, didn't want to rely on the man who kidnapped me, but here I was, leaning on him. The more I did it, the less I began to care, which was the scariest thought.
His eyes turned into molten green orbs, staring down at me like he could devour me in a second. Strong, inky fingers brushed my hair. “If that's what you want.”
I nodded, and his face crafted into this self-assured smirk that gave off confidence in spades, but as I laid my hand on his chest, the pulse of his beating heart throbbed against my fingertips fast and hard.
Lifting me with just one arm, he went to the bed, pulled back the covers, and set my head on the pillow. Then he kicked off his shoes and climbed in beside me.
It was comical to see how much space he put between us when he had already made me come so hard I saw stars. My body craved comfort and warmth, and I scooted over, throwing my arm around his stomach, and laid my head on his chest. A hiss came from above my head like I had just put his hand on a burning stove, but he didn’t move. He just let me do what I wanted.
“Is this okay?” I asked, feeling weird now that he wasn't all over me like before. It made me feel like I was forcing him to comfort me when he would rather not be.
“I'm fine with whatever you need.”
It was the second time that he answered like that. It was half a statement and half a question. This was a whole different side of Cezar that I wasn’t used to; it was like a switch had been flipped. His voice was calm and thoughtful, his movements slow, his touching to a minimum. He seemed to be very careful with everything he did and said.
“Who…,” he paused, his hand at his side clenched the bed sheets. “Who hurt you? Who made you feel like that?”
My mouth opened before I had time to think about it. “Feel like what?” By the time he came into the room, I was under the desk. How could he know the turmoil that was going on inside of me?
“The room. The sour stench of fear was so thick in the room I wanted to tear you away from it.” I stayed silent, not knowing what to say to that. “It was a desperate kind of fear that caused people to make life or death choices.” This time, he paused, exhaling, “I know the smell very well.”
Silence followed. I drew small circles on his chest, trying to wrap my head around what I wanted to say. I already told Nicu some of it so he could find out from him. I bet he would be so happy to learn about something we have in common. We both have killed people. I guess I have that in common with all of them. Even if Nicu or Ion never pulled the trigger, which I doubt, they most definitely have ordered someone to do it.
His hand cupped my head, and I froze, trying to figure out what he would do when I felt his lips softly press against my head. “You don’t have to tell me anything.”
All the thoughts, doubts, and hesitation inside of me crumbled into dust. That one act of truly sweet kindness was all it took for the words to spill from my mouth. “I was ten. My mom had a boyfriend who liked to drink when he got home. On the days that he didn't have enough to black out, he would get angry.”
