26
AVERY WAS PISSED when I moved my stuff back into the dorm room that was microscopic in comparison to the mansion. She stood with her arms crossed over her chest and annoyance smeared on her face as the final bit of clothes were hung in the tiny closet on my side of the room. She’d been using both closets as her own in my absence.
Luka straight-out told Avery to leave when I was finally settled, so we could say goodbye without her angry glares.
He lingered and stalled, not wanting to leave, and part of me felt the same.
“You’ll come back to me,” he said, his order sounding less confident than normal.
“Give me this space, and yes, Luka. I will.”
Would I be back at his house within the week?
His goodbye kiss was brutal. He lashed at me with his tongue, controlled me with his mouth, and made my knees go weak. When the words were on the tip of my tongue for him to stay, for him to take me back home, he abruptly released me and left without saying a word. There was no goodbye or I love you. He’d been reeling and unable to process this foreign feeling of relinquishing control.
The first week back was incredibly strange. It was like a limb was missing. We chatted nightly on FaceTime using the iPad he’d given me, and although his house wasn’t that far from school, the divide was fucking enormous.
I almost caved my second week when Luka threw a temper tantrum. He was used to getting his way. So he started to give me assignments again, and when he had some control, even just for a few minutes, things improved.
He drove me home from school for spring break, and took my family out to dinner. His hand had curled around mine under the table in my lap, and he was every bit the doting, love-struck boyfriend we’d pretended he was at Thanksgiving. Only this time it was real.
Tensions had eased considerably for my parents when I explained I had returned to my own space at the dorm, and Luka had made it clear he was committed to me. We were in love, and my mother was thrilled. She’d beamed at Luka from across the table and winked at me when he wasn’t looking.
After dinner, he’d turned down my father’s offer to come in, and I stayed in the front seat of his car, waiting wordlessly for my parents to go inside.
“Come home,” Luka said when we were alone. It tore at my heart, but I still wasn’t ready. I needed to know he would let me stand on my own, and I had to have my independence back.
I spoke softly. “I will.”
“When?” he demanded. “How much longer are you going to need?” Irritation tinged his voice.
“I don’t know.”
He exhaled loudly, and his hands rested on the steering wheel. “I fucking hate this.” He turned to look at me, and his expression was hard. “The house is empty and I can’t sleep at night.”
Hearing those words made me weak. Sleeping in my tiny bed with Avery nearby instead of him was the hardest part about the decision I’d made. I both liked and hated that he had the same trouble with it.
“I know, I’m sorry.” I put my hand on his leg, leaned over, and rested my ear against his shoulder. “Let me get through spring break and maybe I’ll be ready.”
“Or maybe I’ll drag you back to my house right now and never let you leave again.”
The reminder of what he’d done made me go cold. I straightened away from him and grabbed my purse.
“Fuck,” he groaned. “Stop. I don’t want to leave like this.” Luka leaned over and threaded his hand through my hair, holding me into his kiss. “I’m trying, okay? I’ll give you whatever you need, but what you want is . . . difficult. I miss you.”
Every second I remained in this car was more dangerous than the previous one. I wavered horribly. I loved him and wanted to be with him, but then there was also the desire to be free, and to make him repent for what he’d done. I wasn’t holding us apart to be cruel or punish, but he needed to learn to give in to my demands, too.
I wanted a partner, not a master.
“Why’d you do it?” I whispered.
“What?”
“Our first time.” My voice was thick with emotion. “Why didn’t you stop?”
His face contorted as he tried to assemble an answer. “I’d been thinking about you a lot recently, right before the party. So when you showed up, I don’t know, I thought it was fate. And when you told me you hadn’t been with anyone before, I told myself you’d been waiting for me.” He sighed. “I know that’s stupid. I wasn’t exactly thinking straight. I’m . . . sorry, Addison, about how I brought us together.” His voice was soft. “I wish I’d done it differently.” Luka paused, and then his expression went warm. “But I’m not sorry about us being together.”
I kissed him with total abandon, and had to stop myself from climbing over the seat into his lap. I missed him, too. His mouth, his touch, the way he made me feel. My eyes were damp with tears when I scurried from his car and into my parents’ house.
Every time I said goodbye, I wondered if it would be the last time I’d have to do it. The wall I’d placed between us was on the verge of breaking, and one more push would send it tumbling down.
π
I’d been back at school after the break three days before I’d decided I had to go back to him. I was sitting in my physics lecture, unable to focus on what the professor was teaching when I finally came to peace with it. His family was deep in organized crime and I wasn’t sure if he could escape, but I knew I couldn’t run from my feelings anymore.
I’d go into this relationship with eyes wide open.
So I held my cellphone hidden under my desk and texted a message to Luka, telling him I wanted to talk. I’d have to know how much shit his family was really into, and how Luka and I were going to figure a way to get him out. His reply was quick. He’d be at my dorm room in thirty minutes.
Class ran long, and I had to dash to my dorm. I flew down the hall to my room, only to pull up short. Air halted painfully in my lungs and my mind went into total panic.
Two uniformed cops were waiting at my door.
Oh, shit. What had happened? Were they here about Luka, or here for me? I forced myself to pull in a breath. Act natural, Addison. Remain calm.
“Addison Drake?” the taller of the two officers asked me. When I nodded, he gestured to the door. “May we have a word in your room?”
I nodded hesitantly. I moved slowly to put my key in the lock and turn it. The door weighed a million pounds. “What’s this about?”
The officer pulled the door closed behind his partner, shutting us together inside my room. He eyed my bed. “Can you have a seat, please?”
“Why?”
“I have some very difficult news for you.”
Somehow my feet moved and I complied. I sat down gingerly, tension so tight in me I worried I’d shatter like glass if I moved too quickly. All I could think about was Luka. Please let this be all right.
The shorter officer stood motionless as the taller one began to pace back and forth, visibly nervous. Just as he was about to speak, there was a knock at my door. My brain went blank. What the hell was I going to do? What was Luka going to think when he walked in on two cops in my room?
I didn’t get a chance to try to send him away. The shorter cop opened the door. Luka blinked. His gaze swept over the uniform and badge, but he hid the alarm from his face. Only I could see the danger beneath.
“Addison?” Luka said, his wide-eyed gaze turning onto me.
I said it on a hurried voice. “They said they need to talk to me.” Could he hear the honesty, or did he assume this was an ambush?
“Are you a close friend with Ms. Drake?” the cop asked.
Luka took in an uneven breath. “I’m her boyfriend.”
The taller cop stopped pacing and scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “Can you come in, please?” He motioned to my bed, wordlessly suggesting Luka sit beside me. Hyperawareness crawled along my skin as Luka sank down at my side. These officers had no idea who he was. So, why were they here?
The cop squatted so he was directly in front of me. “Addison. I’m terribly sorry to tell you that there was a fire last night at your parents’ home in Mokena. It spread very quickly.” The man’s eyes were deep with sympathy as he drew in a deep, preparing breath. “Your family did not survive.”
I blinked. “What?”
He didn’t repeat it, probably knowing he didn’t have to—this was a normal reaction and the person would need time to process. But I couldn’t process. He was saying my family was . . .? He couldn’t be right. I’d just seen them a few days ago, and everything had been fine.
The police had to be mistaken.
Luka’s arms curled around me.
As I stared at the cop and the other officer who lingered beside, both of their expressions stricken, I began to worry they hadn’t made a mistake. He’d said my name. They’d come here to my dorm room. What if what he said was true? An earthquake erupted inside and I shook with tremors.
Dead.
My family.
Gone.
“What?” I cried again, slamming a hand over my lips, trying to contain the emotion. I didn’t know what to do. Cold crashed over me, sucking every last molecule of warmth.
When tears spilled from my eyes, Luka pulled me tight to him, and his fierce grip made me break apart completely.
I faded in and out of sobs, swinging wildly from grief to disbelief and back again. The cops went over the details quickly and said an investigation into the cause of the fire had been initiated, but I vaguely acknowledged what else was said.
Mostly I sat on the bed while Luka held me and I tried not to die.
The police left once he was done asking them questions, and confirmed he’d stay with me. I cried quietly, unable to function. Everything hurt and ached. For a long while, we remained on the bed, where I found him shaking almost as much as I was.
Time passed, slow and unforgiving.
“Luče,” he said, pressing his lips to my forehead. “I’m so sorry.”
He held me so tightly, it hurt, but I was grateful. His strength held me together.
π
Luka took care of everything.
He notified my professors, made all of the funeral arrangements, handled the insurance and financial issues, and took care of the outpouring of support I couldn’t deal with. I just wanted to be alone. No, that wasn’t entirely true. I just wanted to be alone with him. I spent the next day in our bed, curled up in his arms, relieved he’d taken off work.
On Saturday, he made me eat something. Whitney was beside herself and had prepared a dozen dishes, wanting to offer comfort any way she could. I ate like a zombie and returned to bed.
My family was gone, as was the house. I had nothing left in the world.
Nothing except for Luka.
“You need to go back to class,” he said finally one night, “after the funeral. Some people will say it’s too soon, but they don’t know you. You need the normalcy. You need to focus on your goal.”
“Okay,” I said, devoid of feeling.
Luka pressed his lips together and struggled to hide the worry from his face. I was cold all the time now. Not even Luka’s heat could melt through the ice that surrounded me.
He sat beside me at the funeral visitation and forced me to do what I was supposed to.
“You’re not the only one grieving,” he’d told me softly. “It’s important to go through the motions for other people, to offer them comfort as well. You’re strong, Addison. You can do this.”
“Is that what Vasilije said?” I asked. I’d come into the kitchen last night to see the brothers talking over beers, and had interrupted Luka asking his brother for advice.
Luka frowned. “We weren’t talking behind your back. I’m shitty at dealing with people. He’s not, so I wanted his help, and Vasilije’s concerned about you.”
I gave a humorless laugh. “Right.”
“He knows what it’s like to lose a parent, doesn’t he?” Luka’s gaze softened. “We get what you’re dealing with.”
“A parent, not an entire family. And you can’t,” I said. “Even I don’t know what I’m dealing with. It’s all just . . . cold.”
I stared at Jonathon’s friends bawling at his casket, and wondered if I’d ever feel warm again.
The day of the funeral was tedious. My bones hurt as I suffered through the service, and rode in absolute silence beside Luka in the back of the limo, trailing three hearses. When I stood at the gravesites, I got angry.
This was unfair. It was so fucking unfair I could hardly stand still. My grip on Luka’s hand was ferocious, and I gnashed my teeth together. What had I done to deserve this? What the fuck had my family done?
I wanted to break something. I needed to hurl everything to the ground, to tear out my hair, and to lose myself completely in the madness. Better to feel rage than nothing at all.
Luka set me in the back seat of the limo and recognized the change in my demeanor. He waited until we were in motion before speaking. “Are you angry?”
“Yes.”
“With me?”
“No.”
“You should be.” He stared at me like I was missing the obvious. “This is all my fault, Addison. None of this would have happened if it wasn’t for me. I brought that down on your family, and you’ll never know how fucking sorry I am about it.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“My father is convinced this was the Russians. They figured out who you were, or followed me when I took you home for the break.”
“Why?”
“We’re not sure. He’s still working on it.”
I stared at him in his crisp black suit, and hated the guilty expression on his handsome face. The hate was a feeling I could respond to. I’d gone so long without any emotion other than sadness, it felt new and exciting.
So I leaned over and slapped my palm across his face, punctuating the silence with the crack of skin smacking skin. It felt good. A needed release. Luka’s cheek flamed pink, but otherwise he had no reaction.
It only fed my anger. He should have been livid. Last time I’d slapped him, he’d threatened to destroy my hand, but now he just sat there with his gaze fixed forward. So I did it again. This time I hit him so hard my palm stung, and the force of it turned his head to the side.
But otherwise he was unfazed. He took my outburst without a word.
“Goddamnit, Luka. Stop me. Get mad. Fucking do something.”
I reared back to strike again, but this time he caught my wrist. “You think I don’t deserve this? We just put your whole fucking family in the ground. That was my fault. Everything that’s happened to you, all the shit I put you through . . . I destroyed your life.”
He had, there was no denying it, but how the fuck was I supposed to reconcile the fact that I still loved him? He’d taken everything from me, but he’d also become my everything.
His grip fell away from my wrist and he looked prepared to receive further punishment, but I didn’t want to punish him. If it was true the Russians were responsible for the fire that took my family, Luka wasn’t responsible. He didn’t want to be a part of the Markovics’ dark world.
“Their death is not your fault,” I said, my statement burning in my throat. “It’s your father’s.”
Luka’s head slowly turned my direction, and there was understanding in his eyes, perhaps even relief that I didn’t completely blame him. But I needed to feel the burn of anger, to soak in the heat of my rage, so I could finally feel warm again.
I grabbed him roughly and slammed my lips over his, shoving my tongue in his mouth and catching him unprepared. He tried to slow the kiss down, but I wouldn’t have it. Already tiny flames flickered in my body, and made me thirsty for more. We hadn’t truly been together since I’d left him at the mansion, and the pent up lust mixed with my depression, creating a dangerous storm.
He issued a sound of discomfort when I bit down hard on his bottom lip. I wanted to draw blood and goad him to match my anger.
“Addison,” he said like a warning.
I ignored. I hiked my black dress up and climbed on him, straddling his lap. I clenched fistfuls of his hair, tugged his head to the side, and sank my teeth into his neck. Once more he groaned, unhappy.
His hands seized my arms. “Addison.”
There was one trick left to try. I wrapped my hands around his throat and squeezed as hard as I could. I didn’t possess enough strength to overpower him, but the dominance snapped his control. His eyes flared with darkness as he ripped my hands away. “What are you doing?”
“Fuck me,” I said. “Be brutal.”
His expression was pure shock. “What? No.”
“Yes. I have to feel something else other than this numbness. I need it,” I said, my voice shaking, “and you owe me.”
“Jesus fucking Christ.” He shook his head. But as he stared at me, he could tell I was serious. Luka could read what I was feeling, and see how desperately I wanted it. He glanced around the back seat of the limo. “What, right now?”
He liked to be in charge, so I had to push. “Don’t make me wait another second.”
Luka clamped his hands on my waist and moved us together, throwing me onto my back on the bench seat. The force was so great when I slammed into it, my head bounced against the upholstery and it knocked the air from my lungs.
Even though it was mid-afternoon, the tinted windows made the interior dim, and his intense eyes glittered in the low light. “You want it rough?”
“Yes,” I hissed. Once more I sank my teeth into his flesh, biting him just beneath his jaw. I dove my hands inside his suit jacket, sliding them between the silk lining and his dress shirt. “I shouldn’t have to repeat myself.”
He drew back so I could stare up at him. His face was hard, all vicious lines and aggressive eyes. Was I pushing him too far? I was reckless and wild.
Luka rose up on his knees and latched one hand on the back of the seat to steady himself as the limo eased through a turn. His other hand tangled up under my skirt and jerked my panties down while I raised my hips to allow it. He pulled so hard, the fabric dragged painfully across my skin. I kicked it the rest of the way, and he threw them to the floor.
Lust mixed with danger, and hung thick in the back of the vehicle. When he leaned down, I grabbed the collar of his jacket and peeled it off of him, desire and anticipation making me clumsy. The ache for him was a thousand knives stabbing me. I couldn’t think over it.
He let me work his jacket off, but that was it. When I reached for his belt with both hands, he grabbed them and pinned them above my head, holding them against the cool glass of the window. He’d done it so his other hand could shove my legs apart and two fingers pushed so deep inside me, I gasped with a hint of pain.
“You want this?” His tone demanded an answer. Luka never asked permission before.
Warmth flowed from his hand, burning up my core and snaking out through my veins. I squirmed on his fingers and bucked my hips. “Yes,” I babbled. “Yes, yes. I need it.”
I needed him to do bad things to me. Make me deserve what had happened.
When he worked a third finger inside, I cried out, but the discomfort was welcomed. The fire crackled and burned hotter, warming the empty void I’d become.
“Quiet,” he hissed. Maybe he was worried the limo driver would hear me. Luka’s gaze focused in and his expression was vicious. He was exactly how I wanted him to be. His fingers pumped in and out, and I grew slicker with each thrust, showing him how much I liked it, even if my moans sounded otherwise.
He had to release me to undo his pants, and I used the opportunity to launch my own attack. I slapped him again, surprising him with the action, and snarled it out. “Hurry up.”
His eyebrow went through the ceiling and anger swelled in his eyes. As soon as he had his pants shoved down over his hips and his cock out, his palm sealed over my lips. His other hand rubbed my clit in hurried strokes, taking me close to the edge, only for his fingers to come down hard in a strike directly across my aching center. The slap of his hand against my damp skin was a loud snap.
I cried out against his hand, and stared at him wide-eyed. He was a beautiful demon, made just for me. I scratched my nails down his neck, leaving bright pink track marks in my wake. Marking him as mine. The hand on my mouth shifted, so he could clench it around my neck, tight as a vise, collaring me beneath his warm fingers.
“You know what you do to me?” he growled. “You make me so fucking hard.”
He stabbed himself between my legs, taking me in one enormous thrust and impaling me on his cock. The sensation of him inside me tore my mind from my body, and I went wild. I thrashed against him like a rabid animal, all teeth and claws. It felt amazing. For the first time in a week, I was alive. Filled with hunger and need, instead of endless sadness.
Luka fucked me like a savage. He grunted with his merciless thrusts, pounding into me, and I moaned, although it was choked off. His grip was intense and pressed hard against the pulse banging in my neck. He drove down into me, pushing me into the seat where a seatbelt dug into my back, but I didn’t give a fuck. The fire consuming us was too powerful to fight, so instead I locked my ankles behind his back and held him to me.
Luka kept me right on the edge of orgasm, not allowing me to go over, so in frustration I reached down and touched myself. If he wouldn’t get me there, I would. When he realized what I was doing, he looked scary. My hand was shoved away, and he tapped me hard on the face. Just with the ends of his fingertips, but enough to make my breath halt in my lungs.
“Whose pussy is this?” he demanded. “You’ll come when I say so.”
His soft, corrective slap had shocked me, but I loved it. I was going to explode. “Please,” I rasped. “Fuck, Luka. Please.”
“I’ll never let you go again,” he said between enormous pants for air. “We belong together. Repeat it.”
“We belong together,” I agreed.
“Because I own you.” His lips pressed to mine. We’d gone at it like people on the brink of insanity, and when we reached the top of the precipice, he flung us over with a final push. “And you own me.”
Pleasure detonated. I screamed as I came, making the limo driver slam on the brakes, sending us tumbling, but Luka held on. He braced an arm on the floor to stop us, and as the powerful orgasm swept through me, he began to reach his end, too.
“I love you,” I whispered through his loud moans, and gripped him ferociously as he shuddered and pulsed inside me.
“Fuck, I love you,” he said, when he seemed to have regained the ability to speak. He lifted his head and smoothed a hand over my cheek. “Are you all right?”
The limo had stopped moving, and we could hear the driver getting out, probably preparing to check on me. Was I all right? “No,” I said lightly, stroking a hand over Luka’s thick hair. “Not yet, but I will be.”
He stared into my eyes, and I knew he understood exactly how I meant it.