Message received. I don't exactly understand what changed but ever since we were back at his place and he kind of guessed that I was a virgin he's been distant and very business-like. Even when he was kissing and nibbling my neck in the laundry room he wasn't really into it. He was just doing what he had to in order to make sure we didn't look too conspicuous. I wouldn't even know that he was thinking about doing something with me if he hadn't asked about sex.
Of course, the whole virgin thing really turned him off. And isn't that a shame. It would have been really nice to have someone to share that physical contact with while running for my life but that isn't going to be Ivan. I mumble something about taking a bath and he doesn't look up from his little 'go bag' to even acknowledge the fact that I said something.
I sit on the toilet for a long time, just trying to make my brain stop. I'm mad that he doesn't want anything to do with me now that he knows, like I'm somehow flawed because of it. I'm sad that something could have happened that won't. I'm pissed that he has to be the jerk that seems to be the only person that can save me. Okay, I'm also pissed that he has to look so fucking good too. He couldn't have been really good at rescuing me and been a dog.
Mostly I'm just numb and tired. I think the numbness is what scares me the most. I should be freaking out right now. I should be screaming and yelling that none of this is normal but I can't seem to work up the energy, which just scares me more.
I sink into the water finally and like a dam bursting I realize I'm crying. Silent tears course down my cheeks and I work really hard not to make a sound. I cry for mostly selfish reasons, my missed life, my worry and fear about my family and friends, my normal that I don't think I will ever get back. But I also cry for all of the people at the coffee shop and Stew next door who didn't deserve to die because of me. Hell, I feel bad that Ivan has to 'babysit' when there are a thousand other things he wants to do.
I sit in the bathtub letting the water grow colder and colder until I can't stand it anymore and finally shower. By the time I manage to come out half the day is gone and I realize that I've maybe gotten an hour and a half worth of sleep in the past thirty-plus hours. I'm dead tired but a part of me doesn't want to lie down. If I lay down I might start thinking about all the crap I have worked hard to shut out.
What awaits me on the other side of the bathroom door is...a crazy Russian I don't have enough sleep to put up with. It looks like a minilab when I step out. He has cylinders with powder laying all around and something that looks like a fucking bomb sitting on the table that most normal people put computers on. He's either making bombs or meth and I really hope it isn't meth. I expect to see him come around the corner dressed in a freakin' lab coat and carrying a beaker of something but instead, it's so much worse.
He's taken off his jacket and his shirt leaving him in only a black tank that shows off his arms and chest. I'm not ashamed to admit I might have drooled a little bit as I follow the ink up his arms to the two stars tattooed on his shoulders. Before I can stop myself I gasp. I know what those tattoos mean. Anyone who has ever watched any Russian mafia movie knows what they mean.
My intake of breath makes him look up from the table he's sitting at, his cold blue eyes meeting mine. There's something wicked in the depths of those eyes. And yet I can't look anywhere but at him. He puts down the things in his hands and stands up. This is where I should know better than to open my big fat mouth but...
"I know what those mean." I point at his stars. His muscles bunch up and release.
"Do you now. Tell me what you think you know, kitten?" He tilts his head and I'm reminded of a hawk waiting for its prey to make a run for their life before swooping down and attacking.
"Um, I...okay, I don't know what they actually mean but Viggo Mortenson had them in that movie 'Eastern Promises'.
He literally rolls his eyes at me. It's kind of hard to maintain that badass image when you roll your eyes like a pre-teen girl.
"So you know nothing about what they are, is that what you are telling me?"
"Well, he was in the mafia or something. I don't actually remember what that movie is about because um, I fell asleep while we were trying to watch it." Damn, I really should have paid more attention.
"Who is 'we', Kitten?" his eyes bore into me demanding an answer.
"My sister and best friend and me. Shelly has a thing for..." damn, I nearly said Russian hitmen, "Viggo."
He cocks his head to the side again and looks at me with narrowed eyes like he can tell what the hell I was about to say.
"Shelly, she's your sister?"
I nod my head unsure of where this is going. He comes to stand in front of me and I am very aware that the only thing I have on is one of his shirts I snatched and my bootie shorts from before.
"Is Shelly the only girl in your family with a thing for...Viggo?" he takes a strand of my hair in his hand and twirls it in and out of his fingers. I am almost a hundred percent sure he just asked me if I had a thing for Russian...Viggo's too or if just my sister has a thing for them. I have no fucking idea how to answer him.
Do I find him sexy? Uh, yeah! Do I understand what his life is about or like? Not a fucking clue. But he and his way of life are the only things keeping me alive at the moment so it seems like a thing I should be down with.
"These mean I gained a lot of authority when I was in the Russian prison. This one..." he runs his fingers across a knife with blood drops coming down, "means I've killed in prison and I don't have a problem doing it again for the right price."
Part of me wants to curl in on myself and hide. If he could commit murder because someone hired him then why didn't he just hand me over to the guys that want me? Is he waiting for the price to go up? He reaches out for my neck and his big hand wraps almost all the way around it.
"Ah, there's the fear I expect to see from someone who hasn't lived a life of turmoil and pain. Everything is nice and hot when it's on the screen and far from you but when its right in front of you it’s different isn't it, Kitten."
"Not really. I still think you're hot." My words surprise him but they also surprise me. "And as long as you're not going to try to sell me to the men that are chasing us then I really don't care who or what you were. Just keep me safe."
He looks at me for so long I wonder if he's going over scenarios in his head about how to hide my body once he's killed me just for the trouble I've caused him. When he opens his mouth the words he says are not ones I expect.
"I already told you, Kitten. You belong to me and I don't share."
The weight of his words hits me hard. I have no idea what they actually mean. Does he want me sexually and my ass belongs to him until he's finished banging me or is he responsible for me because he saved me once, well more than once? Does he just want me to realize he's not going to give me to these guys who threatened to do vile things and pass me around to their friends? Is he just horny and needs his dick wet for a couple of days? Because he doesn't act like he wants to have anything to do with me that way now that he knows I still have my cherry. He's always either trying to scare me or piss me off and neither one of those are very suitable ways to seduce someone. So what does he mean?!