Page 76 of Savage Pakhan

“Don’t sound so cocky about it,” she teases, sitting up to take the mug from me.

She takes her first sip and I wait on pins and needles to see if I made her coffee the way she likes. I stare at her lips, her tongue flicking out to gather the lone drop.

Lucky.

I wanted to taste.

She sighs with a smile. “Perfect. How did you know how I like my coffee?”

“I’ve seen you make it enough times to know.” I kiss her cheek. “Come. Get dressed. Nikolai is waiting with the contract.”

And just like that, her smile is gone. All the joy that was in her face vanishes, replaced with worry and fear.

I take her free hand in mine and help her out of bed, then cup her jaw. “Don’t be afraid, Mia. Ivan will not ever touch you again. No matter what the contract says, you will never go back to him.”

Her throat moves as she swallows, the audible gulp solidifying the fact that she’s scared, and nothing will ease her mind until we go over that contract.

Knowing nothing I say will calm her nerves, I open the dresser drawers and pull out a fresh pair of sweatpants and a shirt. I dress her, tugging the shirt over her head and the dark green shirt falls to her knees. I suppose she doesn’t need sweatpants with how much the shirt covers.

I’m a very possessive man and not even her legs are allowed to be admired by my best friend. The world doesn’t deserve such beauty, and if I have to, I will hoard her and keep her to myself.

This world is unkind and cruel. I refuse for the darkness of it to ever touch her again. She’s too bright for the wrongs this universe cannot right.

She sits down on the edge of the bed, and I slip the sweatpants on her next. When she stands, she rolls to waistband, so the legs aren’t so long.

And somehow, she’s able to not spill one drop of coffee during me dressing her.

Impressive.

I can only convince Mia everything will be okay through actions. Words will never be enough and that’s okay. I’ll spend the rest of my life proving she is safe through actions alone. Words are meaningless without actions to back them, and I can understand why she feels that way.

Ivan took advantage of her. His words and actions were abusive. Years of trauma can never be erased. His memories will always be in her mind, but it’s up to me to heal them the best I can, and on her bad days where she feels like the trauma is creeping in again, I’ll be there.

I’ll always be here.

She follows me down the steps, one hand in mine while she holds the coffee cup in the other.

Once we’re outside, Nikolai is leaning against the rail, staring out into the forest.

“About time. I’m on my second cigarette.” He blows a cloud of smoke without even turning around. “I am bored.”

“You’ll live,” I bite with a little annoyance.

“Sorry, Nikolai⁠—”

“Don’t apologize. You did nothing wrong. He’s an ass.” I guide Mia to sit down on my lap and she follows without any protest, curling her body against mine.

“I am that. Da. Ignore me.” Nikolai spins around and takes a seat in the rocking chair, leaning forward to flip open the folder. “We’ll make this quick because I have dead bodies to deliver and any longer, the van will stink. Probably already does. I should have gone back last night,” he complains.

He hands me the folder, crossing his right leg over his left knee. “I didn’t read it. I have no idea what it says. Oh!” He digs into his pocket and pulls out a USB drive. “I also moved it from your laptop to this. There’s no way he can gain access to it now unless there are more copies you didn’t tell me about.” He narrows his eyes. “Did you forget?”

I open the folder, a sick wave tightening my stomach when the contract comes to view. Reading this in front of her seems like a curse. I close the folder when shame becomes a little too much for me to handle. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I take a deep breath, wondering how the hell Mia could ever love me when everything she’s been through is my fault.

“What?” Nikolai and Mia ask at the same time.

I shake my head, lifting my finger for them to give me a moment. “Mia,” I begin. “Are you sure you want to be here with me while I read this?” I don’t want her to be. There’s a part of me that wants to order her into the house whether she likes it or not because of my ego, my pride, and my embarrassment can’t handle seeing proof of the kind of man I used to be.

“Yes,” she answers with pinched, confused eyebrows wrinkling her forehead. “Why wouldn’t I?”