Page 78 of Maksim
One hundred thousand dollars.
My life. That’s what it cost, my life. Maksim puts a hand on my leg at the sight of tears filling my eyes.
“The money doesn’t matter, Elira. I have a much smaller home than I can afford, remember? You can’t imagine how much money I’ve put back.”
“But it’s your money,” I counter. I look pointedly at the bathroom. “How many times am I going to have to be your shlyukha before you’re paid back?”
When a moment goes by, I wonder if he’s doing the math. How many blowjobs equal a hundred grand?
“Look at me.”
No.
I keep my watery eyes on the bathroom entrance, afraid of what I’ll see if I meet Maksim’s gaze.
“Elira.”
“No,” I grate out. “Say what you must, but I’ve done my duties for the night.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I watch Maksim rub the back of his neck and feel his frustration brewing.
Letting out a gust of air, he scoots onto the bed to lay down beside me while I twist to face away from him.
Still, when his arm wraps around my chest and hugs me closer to him, I don’t fight it. I close my eyes and let him hold me, kiss the top of my head, bring me comfort I desperately need.
“I’m sorry. I thought…” He sighs. “You want me. I know you want me. I was a little,” he pauses briefly, “rough, and I’m sorry for that. I’m not good with women. I don’t even know how to begin to be good with women. My experience is less than ideal, but that isn’t the real problem here. You’re in your head right now, and you need to get out of it.”
“What the hell does that mean?” I snap, even as I press myself against him like I’m afraid my harshness will push him away.
“It means you’re so concerned with believing I’m the enemy that you can’t just accept me as your friend. Get over the idea of being owned. It’s happened. It’s done. Stop crying over it like it’s the worst thing that could ever happen to a person.”
A dry laugh bursts from my mouth. “That’s easy for you to say, isn’t it? You have all the control. You could kill me right now just because you felt like it, but you want me to what? To?—”
“Do you think that I couldn’t kill you even if you were free? Fuck, Elira, you are free. You’re not locked up here like a prisoner. You have a job, access to family overseas, and in six months, you can do whatever the fuck you want. Is that not good enough?”
I flip over to face him, my eyes shooting daggers. “I have a job you gave me with hours you set. Access to my family in the parameters you?—”
“Okay, stop.” He rubs his temples.
“It’s not freedom, Maksim. I don’t expect you to understand, but please, don’t tell me that’s freedom because it isn’t.”
When he drops his hand, his jaw is clenched. “Fine. Then go.”
The tightness in my face relaxes, but it transfers to my chest, making it hard to breathe. “What?”
He waves to the door. “You want your freedom, have it. Goodbye.”
I look between him and the door, my gut churning.
“What are you waiting for?” he asks, goading me. “Go.”
“I can’t,” I say, my voice small.
The organization.
The Bratva.
I can’t leave. I need him. He knows I need him.