Hidden Monsters (Volkov Bratva #4)(38)

"One, you go out that window behind you. If we pretend that I didn’t nail it shut, then you could open it up and climb out, except we’re on the second floor and you’d more than likely break something in your pretty ass if you jumped out of it. Second, you go through me to break down the door, but I’ll warn you now babe, you’d have better luck at the window.”

With the way he was speaking, the Russian inflections to his words were slipping away, and now she was hearing pieces of him that he had obviously carefully buried. “Third, you could use your phone, but…” He held it up, shaking it back and forth as her mouth dropped open, her hands automatically going to her body though she could quite clearly see he held it. “One problem with that scenario, your phone’s broke.”

At that moment, he launched the phone across the room, sending it flying against the wall where the glass screen splintered. To make matters worse, he walked over to it, picking it up just to see if it was working before dropping it back down and sending his boot down on top of it.

There was definitely no way she could use it now.

“Have you completely lost your f*cking mind, Luka!” She didn’t even bother trying to see if her phone was salvageable. She could tell from that distance that it wasn’t.

Luka went back to his food, seeming calmer now than he had before. “Now that I have your attention, how about you sit, we eat, and then hash this shit out. I didn’t slave over a hot stove for this food to go to waste.”

Seeing no other option for the time being, she did what he asked, at least partially, taking her seat on the mattress, but she faced away from him, using her fork to push the food around on her plate. She’d had worse odds, she thought. As long as she could wait out whatever he was going through, she could get back to her life and this would all be over.

_____

She was unequivocally, irrevocably f*cked.

At some point, she had fallen asleep, her food left abandoned on the floor beside her, but when she roused shortly after, and saw that Luka was still up, this time twirling a knife like it was an Olympic sport, she knew that she had underestimated him. It wasn’t that he was doing anything in particular, only that he was making it a point to stay in front of the door, and now, a slight pinch was in her gut that hadn’t been there before.

Or at least she thought it hadn’t been there.

Pushing herself off the floor, ignoring the way her arm shook, she asked, “What time is it?”

“Nine.”

“How long have I been asleep?”

“Eight minutes, give or take a few seconds.”

Irritated, she looked away from him, rubbing her arms. “Were you watching me sleep? You know, that’s not weird at all.”

“You should go back to sleep. It might help your attitude.”

“Or maybe you could let me out of this room! That would do wonders for my f*cking attitude.”

He flipped his knife closed, setting it on the floor beside him as he leaned that blond head of his back against the door. “Someone’s in a mood.”

There was not an insult good enough to say to him as she headed for the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her, pushing in the lock on the knob. The door itself didn’t seem very sturdy, and if she had to guess, he’d probably be able to kick it in if he wanted, but for the moment, she let the allusion of privacy soothe her nerves.

Using the bathroom, she washed her hands after, staring at her reflection in the mirror—a habit for her nowadays, it seemed—and tried to get herself together. This was just a game, some twisted attempt to get under her skin. Soon, he would grow bored and let her out, if only so he could get back to his weekly rituals with Natasha.

That thought both made her feel better and annoyed her.

Refusing to stay hidden away, she rejoined him, but only after she grabbed the mattress and pulled it across the floor to the opposite side of where he was sitting.

If he was serious about doing this…

She glanced over in his direction, noting the way he didn’t look bothered in the slightest.

This was going to be a long night.

____

Pacing the floor, Alex tried to remember what she had ever liked about Luka. Ever.

He was happily laying on his back, watching her every move as though he knew that she was slowly starting to crack. The urge to take her mind off this ridiculous situation rode her hard, and that familiar pinch in her gut only made it worse.

And that, coupled with the way Luka was so easily unaffected, only made her angrier.

When she looked at him again, he smirked. “Whatever you’re thinking, don’t.”

She was going to get the hell out of there, no matter what he said.

____

Her breakdown came slow and steady, another piece of her chipping off and drifting away. She’d tried to hold on for as long as she could, tried to prove that she was in control of what she’d been doing, but as he watched, he watched her spiral in a way that made his chest ache.

But even still, she didn’t admit that she needed help.

Luka stuck to his side of the room, giving her as much space as she could want. He leaned his head back against the wall, his arms resting on his upraised knees.

At first, she had been lying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling for long minutes, his lips moving soundlessly as she counted the lines spiraling out. Then, she got to her feet, pretending to explore what little there was in his room, lingering in the closet where his clothes were mostly hanging, some in piles on the floor. The bathroom was next, then peering out the window though there was hardly anything to see since his bedroom was in the back of the house, and when she had exhausted all of her options, she returned to the bed, dropping down onto it in a huff.