He presses his lips to the side of my neck as our eyes meet again. And he smiles as his lips brush my ear. “That’s my good girl.”
He slips my dress back onto me, and as he buttons up his pants and then leaves, I let a huge smile spread across my face.
The television hums in the background of the rec room as I flip the page of my book. I listen to the newscaster talking about some international skating event that’s made headlines—in Seattle, I think. The screen shows the Russian team arriving at the airport: wheeled luggage, matching team uniforms, and sleek hairstyles everywhere.
And then I see him.
Gennady.
My stomach plunges. It’s only a brief shot of him. But his expression is hard. Uncompromising.Menacing. And so familiar that it brings the memories rushing back.
My book falls to the floor as I freeze. This is what he meant in his email. ‘Soon’ really was soon. He’s here, and there’s no escape from it. The walls feel like they’re closing in. Like the den is now a box or coffin.
Someone calls my name, and I snap back with a shake of my head.
“Lunch is ready.”
I lick my lips as I stare at the screen. “I’ll be right there.”
My appetite is gone. Replaced with something else entirely. Anxiety. Repulsion.And pure terror.
I shake my head. And remind myself that he’s in Seattle.
Which means I still have time to figure a way out of this.
That evening, I lace up my skates in the quiet of the rink. It’s dim inside. Normally, a couple of soldiers from Viktor’s team accompany me now. But today, when Viktor went out to work, I slipped out without the guards. I just need to be by myself tonight. And I locked the doors behind me after I came into the rink, so I know no one can get to me while I’m here.
The cool bite of the air calms my nerves a little. And the second my blades hit the ice, muscle memory takes over. My brain shuts off—just for a little bit.Glide. Cross-step. Twirl.The skirt of my outfit sways with each pass. The music from the playlist fills the speakers, bouncing off the empty walls. An instrumental song, slow and haunting. I move like I used to, like I did when I was on the path to my dreams, before everything crumbled.
Jump. Land. Spin.My body remembers the moves, so my mind doesn’t have to. Instead, my head races with thoughts of the past. Of what I thought I’d escaped.
My skin prickles like I’m being watched.
For a moment, I let myself believe it’s Viktor again.
But deep down, I know it’s not.
Because Viktor brings peace. This feeling is completely different.
I open my eyes and peer into the darkness at the back of the rink.
And then I hear that voice.
The one that makes fear crawl up my spine.
“Well, well, looks like you still got it.”
I whirl around. Heart hammering. My skate catches on the ice. I just manage to stop myself from falling. And then I see him.
He’s standing at the edge of the rink now, imposing as always, hands shoved into his pockets like he owns the place.
“How did you get in?” My voice is sharp. “The doors were locked.”
His expression makes my blood freeze. “A measly lock wasn’t going to stop me from seeing you again.” The way he sneers the words makes bile burn the back of my throat. He’s not gloating. He’s giving me a warning.
“I thought you were in Seattle…”
“I took a private jet here this evening. Especially so that I could see you.”
