Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Dasha lets out a soft whimper as she lifts my hands to her lips. “I’m so sorry,” she murmurs, kissing them.
“Five times in the chest. She was bleeding all over. I tried to help, but it was too late. I remember Nat tried to say something in the end, her mouth working as she gasped for air. Bloody bubbles escaped her lips. She looked scared. I tried to help, but she was too far gone. She died before the paramedics arrived. She died in my arms, killed by men that were aiming for my father but hit a fifteen-year-old girl instead.”
I don’t tell her one thing. I keep that back, locked up in a corner of my blackened, shriveled heart. The words she whispered, her last words, rasped from bloody lips. I’m scared, Tigran.
We lapse into silence. I’ll never get those words from my head. I’ll never forget the last few pulses of Natalia’s heart. The way the blood stopped flowing. The way she went still.
“I’m so sorry,” Dasha murmurs, hugging me tight. “God, that’s so awful.”
“I think it’s why I’m so obsessed with keeping you safe.” I turn to face her, my beautiful wife, my fierce, incredible kitten. “I should have told you about Natalia sooner, but it’s not easy for me. I don’t talk about her often.”
“I’m just happy you told me now. And I’m sorry I brought it up like this. I feel kind of silly.”
“You thought she was an ex or something?”
“I got a little jealous,” she admits.
I lean in and kiss her. I hold that kiss, letting our lips linger. It’s a possessive kiss, a hungry kiss, and it’s a promise.
“There’s nobody else,” I whisper, our foreheads pressed together. “There never will be again.”
She lets out a light whimper, and I drag her against me again, this time pulling her into my lap. I kiss her, and kiss her, and when we go to bed together and undress, she’s all I have inside, everything left in my dreams. All my old shackles are still there, but they’re rusting and falling apart. She’s going to break them, and I don’t know what I’ll be after that.
But I want to find out.
Chapter 24
Dasha
Ipuke my damn guts up yet again.
“This is starting to be annoying,” I groan to myself, spitting into the water. Once it’s done, I feel a lot better. At least Tigran wasn’t around this time—he got up early to work out in the basement gym.
After I’m done with a shower, I find my handsome and sweaty husband getting changed. I give him a kiss and sniff him. “Musky,” I comment, patting his muscular bicep. “Very ripe.”
“That was weird,” he says, frowning, then dramatically sniffs me. “Lemony. Toothpasty.” He sniffs more, tackling me to the bed. I laugh, squirming as he keeps sniffing and kissing me. “Rosy. Peachy. Delicious.”
“Okay, okay, that was weird, I get it!” He grins at me, his handsome face hanging inches above mine. I touch him lightly with my fingertips. “Let’s have breakfast out back together. And then maybe we can go for a walk around the harbor?”
He pulls back slightly. “Really?”
“It’s a nice day out, right? Seems like a shame to waste it inside.”
He seems totally stunned. I’m trying not to smile, aware of the irony.
“What did you do with my reclusive wife?” he murmurs, kissing my neck.
I wriggle into him. “Careful or else we’re never going to leave this room, let alone enjoy the sunshine.”
“Sometimes I prefer the darkness.”
“You’re just trying to do filthy things to your poor, innocent wife.”
“Goddamn right I am.”
“Too bad.” I pat his muscular ass. This man is built like a freight train. “Go prepare my breakfast, please, and thank you.”
He sighs, rolls off me, and throws his sweaty shirt at my face before heading out.
I hold the shirt up to my face and breathe it in deeply. The smell makes my core clench. “Yep, I’m a weirdo,” I mutter to myself.
He holds my hand tightly as we stroll along the walking paths. Down below in the harbor, the water glitters in the sunlight. Boats bob slowly, moving with the gentle windblown waves. There are many other people around: joggers, young couples, old men playing chess, and a few buskers singing and playing instruments.
“Are you okay?” he asks, tugging me closer. I like that he keeps checking every once in a while, just to make sure.
“I’m fine.” Even though I’m not. I mean, not totally at least. It’s a beautiful day, and I’m really happy I’m doing this, but oh my god, my anxiety is going crazy.
I don’t remember the last time I did something like this. It’s so normal, just taking a walk around the park, but to me, it’s like diving headfirst into a pool filled with sharks. I spent twelve years of my life avoiding going out in public. Even an idyllic afternoon stroll is pushing my limits.