"So now you're trying a different tactic?" So manipulative and disgusting. "I can't be manhandled, Dimitri. You may as well give up."
"I'm trying to keep you alive." Anger flashes across his face for a second and then resolves as he sighs. "Which is harder than it should be when you won't stop fighting me."
The confusion I feel seeing this one-eighty he's made is the first thing to snap me out of my anxious funk in a week. I sit there dumbfounded, staring at his creased forehead and wide pupils wondering who the fuck this man is and what he did with Dimitri Gravitch. I'm utterly shocked.
"Did you witness the murder that took place outside my casino?" This is the first time he's asked me so bluntly. I'm not sure how to even deflect anymore.
"You mean the one you're covering up?"
I watch as he presses his eyes closed and purses his lips before he grits his teeth and says, "Yes. That one."
"Why do you care?" I bury my face against my knees where I rest my forehead. "You already know I did. Isn't that why I'm locked up here now? You’re going to kill me?"
"Dammit, Tatiana, I'm not going to hurt you." He grabs my ankle and pulls one leg down, forcing me to lift my head and look at him. Now he looks angry, but his tone is still gentle. "I can't protect you if you don't talk to me. Just tell me what you saw. Why are you so afraid?'
"Yeah, I saw it, and then bad shit's been happening ever since." I tell him how I went to the cops and how that black sedan has been following me around, and when I get to the part where thecreepy guy was on the bus, I almost break down crying again. "After I left work one night, I thought I was being paranoid, but then I got to my apartment and there were police cars everywhere and Lena was hurt and?—"
When my voice cracks and the tears threaten to tip over the edge, I stop talking. Dimitri slides closer and pushes the hair out of my face, making it harder to control my tears. And when he speaks again, I finally let the edge of anger go.
"What happened to your apartment?"
"Someone broke into it." I blink back the tears harder and continue. "They destroyed everything. Slashed the furniture. Broke the TV. Went through all my things like they were looking for something."
"They were looking for you." His hand cups my cheek and his thumb brushes over my cheekbone. "They thought you'd be there."
"But Lena was there instead." Finally, the tears fall, because the guilt I'm carrying over dragging my roommate into this is too much to carry. "They hit her. She has a concussion and she's in the hospital now, and it's my fault."
He sighs hard and his hand leaves my face. I use the space to wipe the moisture from my cheeks, but I can't stop crying. New rivulets of tears carve their way across my skin and drip from my jaw as Dimitri stands up and walks over to his bar cart carrying the bottle I was drinking from. He pours vodka into a glass and brings it back to me. "Drink this."
"I've already had too much," I say, but I take the glass anyway. Liquor has become my best friend now, and basically the only comfort I have in this world.
"One more won't hurt." He sits back down on the bed closer than before. His hip rests against my thigh, and the scent of his cologne envelops me. "You need to calm down before you make yourself sick."
I drink the vodka in two swallows and set the empty glass on the nightstand. The room spins slightly when I move, and I close my eyes to steady myself. I can't figure out why he suddenly feels responsible for me and wants to protect me. If it's not his family who's been following me around, why does he care?
"I'm so tired," I whisper. "I'm tired of being scared. I'm tired of running. I'm tired of not knowing if I'm safe."
"You're safe here." He reaches up and brushes hair away from my face again. "I know you don't believe that, but it's true."
"How can I be safe when you're covering up the murder I witnessed?" I look at him directly. "You're protecting the people who want me dead."
"I'm not protecting them." Dimitri's face goes cold and his eyes bore into mine. "I'm hunting them." When his jaw clenches, his nostrils flare, and something in the way he says it makes me believe him.
"Why?" The question comes out desperate. "Why do you even care what happens to me?"
"God, woman…" He breathes out heavily and lets his hand rest on my thigh. When his head drops, I know he's trying to think of how to respond to my question, which isn't as hard as he's making it, but I'm shocked by his answer when he speaks. "Because before all of this, you were just a woman with a nice body. But I've gotten to know you a little now, and I don't know. I like you. I don't want to see anything happen to you."
I don't know if he's telling the truth or if this is just another manipulation tactic. I don't know if I can trust anything he says when he's locked me in his penthouse like a prisoner. I don't know anything anymore except that I'm exhausted and terrified. But he has a calming effect on me, and it's so obvious to both of us.
"I hate you," I mutter, though anymore, that's not really true. I don't hate him. I just don't know that I like him much. Still, I feel him move closer, scooting up the side of the mattress as his hand slips around my waist to rest on my hip.
"I know," he breathes, and he's so close, I can feel his breath on my lips. "But you're going to let me protect you anyway."
I don't know why, but I lean forward and press my forehead against his as his hand comes up to cup my cheek again, and when he tips his chin up and his lips brush mine, I don't back away. Something inside me ignites in a spark, and I want to know what this feels like.
The kiss is desperate and messy and his hands tangle in my hair and pull me closer while I grip his shirt. Everything I've been holding back for days comes pouring out in the way I kiss him like I'm drowning and he's the only thing keeping me above water.
He shifts on the bed and pulls me into his lap without breaking the kiss. My legs wrap around his waist automatically, and his hands slide under my shirt to press against bare skin as his mouth moves to my neck and I tip my head.
