Page 39 of Maksim
“Maksim, please,” she cries, stepping toward me and clinging onto my shirt. My eyes widen with confusion. This is a side I’ve yet to see from Elira, and I’ve seen her in much more desperate situations. “Please, just tell me what you want me to be.”
Putting my hands up, I try to coo. “Okay, calm down.”
She takes several deep breaths, but they seem all but calm. I glance down at her chest before removing my shirt and handing it to her. She pulls it over her head in jerky movements.
“I am sorry about the skinny comment, okay?” I say with regret.
“I don’t care about that!” Her eyes pop like her head is exploding, sending me back a step. “I was standing in front of you naked, and you still didn’t want me. What am I supposed to do differently? Please, I… I’m so confused.”
I stand with my head tilted for a moment, trying to process that.
Did she want me to fuck her?
No. No, I’m certain of that. The tightly closed lips, the clenched eyes… No, she didn’t want it.
So what exactly is the problem?
“What do you want, Elira?” I ask, just as confused as she is.
She shakes her head. “I’m the whore. It doesn’t matter what I want.”
“It does if I say it does.”
She narrows her eyes. Once again, I’m the enemy. “Fine, then I want to go home.” Her eyes soften. “Please.”
“No,” I automatically say. “Not that. Obviously not that.”
Her shoulders slump as if she really believed she had a chance, but it doesn’t work that way. If it did, I wouldn’t be here either.
She closes her eyes, and after only a few moments, opens them with a new strength straightening her shoulders. “I want your protection.”
From? I almost ask, but it’s unnecessary. My imaginary roommate is the least of her worries.
When it comes to the Bratva, yes, she needs me. Her life would be worse off without me being in it, but my boss has locked that into place for her, so she need not worry.
But that organization… They will come. I would bet my life Daniel had security cameras just as I do, and his associates will be tracking us soon enough. When that time comes, she’ll need me to not give her up, which would be my get-out-of-whore-free card that has not slipped my mind.
Now I understand the politeness, the eagerness to please, the desperation.
I must take too long to answer because her eyes leave me, and she purses her lips.
“You have no idea what this is like,” she whispers, pushing hair out of her face with a shaking hand. “To you, this is one big joke. You can tease me as you call it and mock me, but you have no idea what it’s like to be at the mercy of another person. You have no idea how terrified I am, all the time, and still, you joke…” She shakes her head, then angrily swipes a finger beneath both eyes.
I take her hand and gently put it back at her side before stepping within inches of her. She cranes her neck to look up at me.
There are so many things I could say. So many lies I could tell. I don’t know this girl. Before a few days ago, she was nothing to me. She didn’t exist. And if I’m honest with myself, if she had never tried to kill me, if she hadn’t piqued my curiosity and earned my respect when she revealed herself to be a fighter, she would still not exist to me.
But she does exist to me. I see her. I see her pain. And as much as she’d never believe it, I do care.
“I know what it’s like.”
She blinks, then furrows her brow with confusion, but I don’t explain further. It’s been a long day, and I’m tired, too tired to dig up old wounds just to prove to her I know what pain feels like.
I allow my gaze to linger on her for a few more seconds before I pry myself away from her questioning gaze to go to my room, shower in mind, surprised when Elira doesn’t follow.
12
ELIRA