by Nikki Sloane
Apprehension needled along my spine. Luka had an emotionless mask to hide what was going on inside, and it seemed as if his brother was the opposite. Vasilije’s large, warm grin disguised the empty chaos beneath.
He hurried around me into the room, blocking off my exit once more. “It’s about Luka.”
I swallowed thickly. “What about him?”
“You don’t have to be his prisoner. I can help you.”
Tension corded my muscles. “I’m not his prisoner.”
“It’s okay, Addison.” He stepped closer. Too close. His gaze roamed over my face, settling on my lips. “You don’t have to be afraid.”
“I’m not.” I was afraid, but it had nothing to do with Luka.
Vasilije’s grin was like the Cheshire cat’s, showing his perfectly white teeth and dimples. “Come on. I see you walking around here, following him like you’re his little pet. You don’t have to be his fucktoy.”
My blood roared in my veins and alarms blared in my head, but I did my best to not show any of it. “That’s not how it is.”
“What’s it like, then?” He inched closer, and I took a step back. “Tell me what a pretty, smart girl like you is doing with a boring guy like him. Doesn’t it make you crazy?”
“What?” I moved back again as he advanced on me.
His grin fell. He snatched the wine glass from my hand and set it on the table, and he affected his voice to a patronizing tone. “Luka’s ‘so smart,’ and he’s ‘such a hard worker,’ and so perfect. He makes me fucking crazy.”
My insides churned as I bumped backward into the wall. “He’s not perfect.”
“Yeah,” he said, annoyed. “He’s probably perfectly imperfect.” Vasilije reached out and slid his hand around my cheek, cupping my face. I jerked away from his unwelcomed touch and his hand was icy cold, in stark contrast to his brother’s. “Gets whatever he wants. He wanted you, and takes you, even if he’s gotta hold you here against your will.”
“I can leave whenever I want,” I said, my voice small.
He gave a humorless laugh, knowing it was a lie. Luka had given me a lot of freedom, but I still wasn’t free.
“Come on.” Vasilije’s hushed tone was gentle, yet scary. “Let me help you. I can talk to my father.” He moved so fast there wasn’t time to stop him. He tugged open the knot holding my robe closed. “You don’t have to be with Luka.”
I tried to duck under the thick arms that trapped me against the wall, but his hands were inside my robe, sliding around my waist.
“No!” I said, loudly.
“Shh. I’m not perfect, but I’m better than him.” The cold from his hands seeped through the thin fabric of my tank top. My shiver was instant, and I shuddered harder as he leaned closer, readying to cover my mouth with his. “And if you’re free, you can be with whoever you want. Right now,” he whispered, “in this moment.”
“I want him,” I blurted out. “I’m Luka’s.”
Vasilije halted, and looked unconvinced.
It urged me on. “I’m his, Vasilije, by choice. It didn’t start out that way, but that’s how it is now. I belong with him. I think he loves me,” I said, startled by how strong and confident my words were. They broke free and poured from my mouth. “And I know I’m in love with him.”
Vasilije’s expression soured, and his thoughts were visible in his eyes. He did not like losing out to his brother. His hands gripped tighter, driving his fingers into my skin.
“You’re hurting me,” I gasped and tried to get free.
“Get your fucking hands off of her!”
I’d been so focused on the threat of one Markovic, I hadn’t noticed the other when he appeared in the dining room. Luka was shirtless, with pajama pants slung loosely around his hips. He moved as a blur, throwing his brother off of me, sending Vasilije crashing against the buffet in the corner.
“Fuck, calm down,” his brother said. “We were just talking.”
There was no calming down for Luka. He got between me and his brother, using himself as a protective shield. His hands were clenched in fists and the muscles in his back and shoulders strained, tight beneath his skin. His deep voice was terrifying and believable. “Touch her again and I’ll kill you.”
“Whatever, Luka. I was testing her loyalty to you. You should thank me—”
“Get the fuck out of my sight.”
Vasilije’s angry footsteps plodded away and up the stairs. It wasn’t until a door slammed that Luka spun to face me, his expression full of alarm. “Are you all right?”
Adrenaline snaked in my system, but relief was also working its way through, and I nodded. Luka pulled me away from the wall and crushed me into his arms. His urgent mouth locked onto mine as if desperate to confirm our connection, and I matched him, eager.
“How much did you hear?” I whispered.
He didn’t answer with words. Instead he scooped me up and sat me on the dining table, and his kiss leveled me. He’d heard it all, and I blinked back the overwhelming tears that flooded my eyes. I loved him. It was my final surrender.
I flung the robe off my arms. I grasped at the hem of my tank top, lifting it up—
He broke the kiss. “We’re out in the open.”
He was worried about Vasilije? “Fuck him,” I said. “Let him see you taking what’s yours.”
We tore at our clothes together, hurling my shirt and our pants to the floor. I wrapped a hand around his cock, stroking him, and in two pumps down his length he was hard as steel. I needed him inside me. I had to know what it felt like to be joined together with the man I loved.
He hurried, preparing to take me.
When he slid inside, our moans mingled together. My arms banded around his shoulders and I held on, wrapping my legs around his hips. His mouth never left mine as he began to move. He was fucking me on the dining room table in the same spot he’d bent me over my first day here.
The dark need roared inside. I’d looked at him so long ago and wanted him to do bad things to me, and he had. Making me fall in love with him was the worst of all.
Luka typically didn’t do fast. He took his time and drew things out, but there wasn’t time for control now. I groaned with satisfaction as he pistoned his hips, fucking me like he had to, before we woke from this beautiful nightmare.
“I love you,” he breathed.
His words sent me soaring, and gave me the courage to admit the truth. “I love you, Luka.”
We were two bodies moving as one. He eased me back on the table and moved inside, claiming me over and over again. The room was a million degrees, burning away doubt and guilt and shame at loving him when I knew he wasn’t nice or good.
We erupted together. It was so hot I worried we’d scorch the tabletop.
He slowed to a stop, resting on top of me and still lodged deep inside, his face buried in the side of my neck. His hurried breathing was loud in my ear.
“You have to let me go,” I whispered.
He tensed, knowing I didn’t mean physically.
“I have to know this is real,” I continued. Because Vasilije’s words weren’t wrong. Did I love Luka because I had no choice?
He rose up on his arms and peered down at me with an expression that was a mixture of unhappiness and . . . fear. He was afraid of losing me.
“No,” he said.
“Give me space to find myself as this girl who can love you, and I’ll come back.”
“I need you here with me. How can I go back to how it was before you?”
“Please, Luka. This matters. You said anything that matters to me, matters to you. Please.”
Hearing me beg for freedom broke him a little. He retreated, and I followed him up, wrapping my arms around him.
“I don’t know if I can do it,” he said finally, his voice unsure. “Let you walk out the door and not follow you.”
“You can. You got me to fall in love with you.” I pressed my forehead against his. “You can do anything.”
/> 26
AVERY WAS PISSED when I moved my stuff back into the dorm room that was microscopic in comparison to the mansion. She stood with her arms crossed over her chest and annoyance smeared on her face as the final bit of clothes were hung in the tiny closet on my side of the room. She’d been using both closets as her own in my absence.
Luka straight-out told Avery to leave when I was finally settled, so we could say goodbye without her angry glares.
He lingered and stalled, not wanting to leave, and part of me felt the same.
“You’ll come back to me,” he said, his order sounding less confident than normal.
“Give me this space, and yes, Luka. I will.”
Would I be back at his house within the week?
His goodbye kiss was brutal. He lashed at me with his tongue, controlled me with his mouth, and made my knees go weak. When the words were on the tip of my tongue for him to stay, for him to take me back home, he abruptly released me and left without saying a word. There was no goodbye or I love you. He’d been reeling and unable to process this foreign feeling of relinquishing control.
The first week back was incredibly strange. It was like a limb was missing. We chatted nightly on FaceTime using the iPad he’d given me, and although his house wasn’t that far from school, the divide was fucking enormous.
I almost caved my second week when Luka threw a temper tantrum. He was used to getting his way. So he started to give me assignments again, and when he had some control, even just for a few minutes, things improved.
He drove me home from school for spring break, and took my family out to dinner. His hand had curled around mine under the table in my lap, and he was every bit the doting, love-struck boyfriend we’d pretended he was at Thanksgiving. Only this time it was real.
Tensions had eased considerably for my parents when I explained I had returned to my own space at the dorm, and Luka had made it clear he was committed to me. We were in love, and my mother was thrilled. She’d beamed at Luka from across the table and winked at me when he wasn’t looking.
After dinner, he’d turned down my father’s offer to come in, and I stayed in the front seat of his car, waiting wordlessly for my parents to go inside.
“Come home,” Luka said when we were alone. It tore at my heart, but I still wasn’t ready. I needed to know he would let me stand on my own, and I had to have my independence back.
I spoke softly. “I will.”
“When?” he demanded. “How much longer are you going to need?” Irritation tinged his voice.
“I don’t know.”
He exhaled loudly, and his hands rested on the steering wheel. “I fucking hate this.” He turned to look at me, and his expression was hard. “The house is empty and I can’t sleep at night.”
Hearing those words made me weak. Sleeping in my tiny bed with Avery nearby instead of him was the hardest part about the decision I’d made. I both liked and hated that he had the same trouble with it.
“I know, I’m sorry.” I put my hand on his leg, leaned over, and rested my ear against his shoulder. “Let me get through spring break and maybe I’ll be ready.”
“Or maybe I’ll drag you back to my house right now and never let you leave again.”
The reminder of what he’d done made me go cold. I straightened away from him and grabbed my purse.
“Fuck,” he groaned. “Stop. I don’t want to leave like this.” Luka leaned over and threaded his hand through my hair, holding me into his kiss. “I’m trying, okay? I’ll give you whatever you need, but what you want is . . . difficult. I miss you.”
Every second I remained in this car was more dangerous than the previous one. I wavered horribly. I loved him and wanted to be with him, but then there was also the desire to be free, and to make him repent for what he’d done. I wasn’t holding us apart to be cruel or punish, but he needed to learn to give in to my demands, too.
I wanted a partner, not a master.
“Why’d you do it?” I whispered.
“What?”
“Our first time.” My voice was thick with emotion. “Why didn’t you stop?”
His face contorted as he tried to assemble an answer. “I’d been thinking about you a lot recently, right before the party. So when you showed up, I don’t know, I thought it was fate. And when you told me you hadn’t been with anyone before, I told myself you’d been waiting for me.” He sighed. “I know that’s stupid. I wasn’t exactly thinking straight. I’m . . . sorry, Addison, about how I brought us together.” His voice was soft. “I wish I’d done it differently.” Luka paused, and then his expression went warm. “But I’m not sorry about us being together.”
I kissed him with total abandon, and had to stop myself from climbing over the seat into his lap. I missed him, too. His mouth, his touch, the way he made me feel. My eyes were damp with tears when I scurried from his car and into my parents’ house.
Every time I said goodbye, I wondered if it would be the last time I’d have to do it. The wall I’d placed between us was on the verge of breaking, and one more push would send it tumbling down.
π
I’d been back at school after the break three days before I’d decided I had to go back to him. I was sitting in my physics lecture, unable to focus on what the professor was teaching when I finally came to peace with it. His family was deep in organized crime and I wasn’t sure if he could escape, but I knew I couldn’t run from my feelings anymore.
I’d go into this relationship with eyes wide open.
So I held my cellphone hidden under my desk and texted a message to Luka, telling him I wanted to talk. I’d have to know how much shit his family was really into, and how Luka and I were going to figure a way to get him out. His reply was quick. He’d be at my dorm room in thirty minutes.
Class ran long, and I had to dash to my dorm. I flew down the hall to my room, only to pull up short. Air halted painfully in my lungs and my mind went into total panic.
Two uniformed cops were waiting at my door.
Oh, shit. What had happened? Were they here about Luka, or here for me? I forced myself to pull in a breath. Act natural, Addison. Remain calm.
“Addison Drake?” the taller of the two officers asked me. When I nodded, he gestured to the door. “May we have a word in your room?”
I nodded hesitantly. I moved slowly to put my key in the lock and turn it. The door weighed a million pounds. “What’s this about?”
The officer pulled the door closed behind his partner, shutting us together inside my room. He eyed my bed. “Can you have a seat, please?”
“Why?”
“I have some very difficult news for you.”
Somehow my feet moved and I complied. I sat down gingerly, tension so tight in me I worried I’d shatter like glass if I moved too quickly. All I could think about was Luka. Please let this be all right.
The shorter officer stood motionless as the taller one began to pace back and forth, visibly nervous. Just as he was about to speak, there was a knock at my door. My brain went blank. What the hell was I going to do? What was Luka going to think when he walked in on two cops in my room?
I didn’t get a chance to try to send him away. The shorter cop opened the door. Luka blinked. His gaze swept over the uniform and badge, but he hid the alarm from his face. Only I could see the danger beneath.
“Addison?” Luka said, his wide-eyed gaze turning onto me.
I said it on a hurried voice. “They said they need to talk to me.” Could he hear the honesty, or did he assume this was an ambush?
“Are you a close friend with Ms. Drake?” the cop asked.
Luka took in an uneven breath. “I’m her boyfriend.”
The taller cop stopped pacing and scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “Can you come in, please?” He motioned to my bed, wordlessly suggesting Luka sit beside me. Hyperawareness crawled along my skin as Luka sank down at my side. These officers had no idea who he was. So, why were they here?
The cop squatted so he was directly in front of me. “Addison. I’m terribly sorry to tell you that there was a fire last night at your parents’ home in Mokena. It spread very quickly.” The man’s eyes were deep with sympathy as he drew in a deep, preparing breath. “Your family did not survive.”
I blinked. “What?”
He didn’t repeat it, probably knowing he didn’t have to—this was a normal reaction and the person would need time to process. But I couldn’t process. He was saying my family was . . .? He couldn’t be right. I’d just seen them a few days ago, and everything had been fine.
The police had to be mistaken.
Luka’s arms curled around me.
As I stared at the cop and the other officer who lingered beside, both of their expressions stricken, I began to worry they hadn’t made a mistake. He’d said my name. They’d come here to my dorm room. What if what he said was true? An earthquake erupted inside and I shook with tremors.
Dead.
My family.
Gone.
“What?” I cried again, slamming a hand over my lips, trying to contain the emotion. I didn’t know what to do. Cold crashed over me, sucking every last molecule of warmth.
When tears spilled from my eyes, Luka pulled me tight to him, and his fierce grip made me break apart completely.
I faded in and out of sobs, swinging wildly from grief to disbelief and back again. The cops went over the details quickly and said an investigation into the cause of the fire had been initiated, but I vaguely acknowledged what else was said.
Mostly I sat on the bed while Luka held me and I tried not to die.
The police left once he was done asking them questions, and confirmed he’d stay with me. I cried quietly, unable to function. Everything hurt and ached. For a long while, we remained on the bed, where I found him shaking almost as much as I was.
Time passed, slow and unforgiving.
“Luče,” he said, pressing his lips to my forehead. “I’m so sorry.”
He held me so tightly, it hurt, but I was grateful. His strength held me together.
π
Luka took care of everything.
He notified my professors, made all of the funeral arrangements, handled the insurance and financial issues, and took care of the outpouring of support I couldn’t deal with. I just wanted to be alone. No, that wasn’t entirely true. I just wanted to be alone with him. I spent the next day in our bed, curled up in his arms, relieved he’d taken off work.