Hidden Monsters (Volkov Bratva #4)(39)

Hours passed this way, and only when she passed out once more did he leave the room and head for the kitchen, grabbing something for her to eat, having forgotten it earlier. Two cases of bottled water and enough supplies to last them a couple of days, he was ready for the long haul, even if she wasn’t.

It was only when restlessness turned to annoyance, and annoyance turned to desperation did things really start to change, and it was only when she was at the very edge did Alex actually show any vulnerability. He had been waiting on this, the moment when it would start becoming too much for her. For a while, Luka had thought he could handle this, having always thought that she appeared so strong.

But despite what he felt for her, no matter how strongly those feelings were, he forced them to the back of his mind, willing himself to do what needed to be done. He knew what needed to be done. Even if it hurt her, he had to do what he had to do.

No one knew the burden he carried, nor how easy it was for him to turn that moral compass of his off so he could do what others couldn’t. He was willing to hurt her if that meant to help her.

Luka didn’t think he had ever seen her so expressive, everything she was feeling and thinking there for him to see all over her face. That careful mask she kept in place was gone now. He knew better than anyone the toll it took to keep everything bottled inside, suffering silently so as not to burden others with the pain, but now he wanted her pain. He wanted to take that from her.

He wasn’t a good person. He didn’t really deserve nice things, but she did. And he wanted her to be happy. To be free.

But he had yet to get to the heart of the issue. So many things could weigh on her, especially in the lives they led. He just wanted her to confess it to him, if to no one else.

“Alex…”

When he said her name, she flinched, her eyes squeezing shut. Like it was a physical blow that wounded her.

“I just need to get out of here,” she whispered, more to herself than him. That desperation, tinged with a little bit of anger, was back. “Please…Luka, I just need to go.”

He would have given her the world if she’d asked for it, but this…this, he couldn’t. So many answers came to him, variations on how to let her down gently, but she didn’t need that right now.

“No.”

She didn’t want that answer, making her jump to her feet in a flurry of motion. Completely ignoring him, she walked toward the door and reached for the handle, but he was faster, intercepting her. Even if she had wanted to, he’d switched the locks on the bedroom door where it locked from the inside, and he had the key safely tucked away in his pocket.

When he reached for her, she lurched back, and he could see the exact moment when the anger was taking over, could sense the fight rising in her. But that was good because at least then he knew the Alex he used to know and care for was in there somewhere.

She made a move to get around him, but he blocked her again, this time reaching to steady her when she stumbled a bit. That was the catalyst. The moment he touched her, innocent enough as he captured her wrists when she was falling backward, she jerked free of his hold and swung.

He allowed the first hit, her open palm connecting against his face, enough that he felt the sting when she pulled away to do it again, but no matter how many times she hit him, it didn’t seem to be enough.

The more she tried to fight him, trying to forcibly remove him, the more she grew agitated, vocalizing her frustrations. No matter how he held her, or at least tried to grab her, she still found a way to hit him, her knee coming up so fast that he had barely blocked it.

“Alex, for f*ck’s sake! Calm down!”

She shoved away from him and he let her. In that short span of time, she had hit him more than he’d ever allowed anyone to, but he hadn’t felt the slightest urge to hurt her in return.

“Fuck you! I don’t need your help. I don’t even want it. When did you start giving a shit anyway? I’m sure your prostitute is waiting for you somewhere.”

He didn’t know what it was about that little speech that pissed him off. He’d been doing a good job of keeping a leash on his temper up until that point, but then he just snapped.

Her eyes widened as she took a step back, but even in the height of his anger, he would never hurt her.

Luka’s arm snapped forward, his thumb on one side of her neck, his fingers on the other, and he pulled her forward, with a small amount of force. She tried to look down, away from his probing gaze, but he wasn’t allowing that.

“Look. At. Me.”

He could tell that she wanted kindness, someone to take the pain away as the drugs had done for the short amount of time she had been using them—at least this go round he had learned—but Luka couldn’t give her that. He couldn’t pretend like he didn’t know that she was slowly killing herself. And he knew, at least he thought he knew, what was eating at her the most, and the only way she could heal from it was if she finally faced it instead of trying to run away. Even if this whole process was going to be grueling, she was going to have to face it, except she wouldn’t be alone.

She had jolted at his words, and he immediately softened his tone. “Look at me.”

When she finally did, her eyes watering, tears ready to slip over, he knew the worst of her anger had bled away at the face of his, but he didn’t doubt for a second that it would be back.

As soon as he felt like he had her complete and undivided attention, he said the words that were burning to get out of him. “It’s going to hurt. You’re going to hate me.” His grip was still firm on her. “It’s going to get a lot worse before it gets better.”