The Enemy in My Bed by L.K. Shaw

Chapter 10

Pierce

A warm,soft body burrows against my chest. Hot breath ghosts across my skin. The faint scent of oranges wafts under my nose. For a moment I feel content. When was the last time I’d woken up with a woman in my arms? I can’t even remember.

Except piece by piece, memories of last night begin to filter through my brain. I open my eyes to a tangled mess of short blonde hair. Mila is plastered against me. She’s wrapped herself so tightly around my body it’s like she was trying to crawl inside it.

Faint light filters through the windows. It’s still early, but far later than I usually rise. It’s not like me to sleep in. I need to get out of this bed, but I can’t seem to make myself move. Instead, I think about what I learned last night. Why do I care about what happened to Mila? Why is it that with every question she answers about herself, ten more come to mind?

I should be asking her about Mikhail. About who his allies were. Getting any information from her I can that will help me annihilate the rest of the Russian faction and anyone who worked with them. Yet all I want to know is who hurt her, and what I need to do to seek vengeance.

“You’re pathetic. Lusting after some whore when you should be getting answers. You can’t even do that right. You’re weak, Pierce. Just like your father.”

I grit my teeth at the poisonous voice inside my head. It’s been years since that viper took up space in there. But ever since my return with Jacob from his self-imposed exile nearly a month ago, the voice has become a regular visitor. I’d actually started to regret returning to Brooklyn, even though I’d been born and raised here, and it was home.

Needing some space to clear my mind, I roll out of the bed. I quickly pull on my briefs and grab my phone. Hardening my expression, I stare over my shoulder. Mila is sitting up with the sheet tucked around her waist, a wary expression on her face.

“You have five minutes to meet me in the kitchen. We have things to discuss,” I snap.

I escape out the door and into the other room. And you thought Jacob was running from his past. A quick glance at the clock reminds me that the supply of food I ordered should be arriving soon. While I wait for Mila, I pace, and then stop myself. Pacing is for those who are indecisive.

Instead, I lean up against the fridge with ankles and arms crossed and clear my face of any expression. A tactic I’ve perfected over the years. Moments later, she comes walking down the hall wearing yet another too small t-shirt that emphasizes those plump tits of hers, and a pair of shorts I wish gave me a better glimpse of her surprisingly long legs.

Her steps slow as she approaches the kitchen. She meets my gaze head on, and a slight flush rises in her cheeks.

“You’re going to answer some of my questions,” I tell her.

Her jaw clenches, as do her fists, but she doesn’t argue. Instead she narrows her eyes and glares at me before finally taking a seat at the table. I remain where I am.

“You said you were at Mikhail’s compound for revenge. How long were you there?”

Mila turns her back on me and clasps her hands on the surface of the table. The blatant disrespect in the gesture should piss me off, and it does, but I’m also slightly amused. Mostly, because in the brief time since we left the warehouse, she seems to have forgotten the rules. I’m glad. We both need the reminder of what happens when she doesn’t do what I tell her.

I cross the room in only a few steps and palm the back of her neck. Gently at first, then squeezing a bit more tightly, until she hisses in pain. I bend down and speak harshly in her ear. “I thought you understood how this went. I ask you a question. You give me an answer. I think you’ve gotten a little too comfortable in such a short period of time. Just because you’ve had free rein of this house doesn’t mean I’ll let it continue.” I tighten my grip a fraction more. “Don’t think that last night changes anything. Your pussy isn’t so good that I’ve forgotten who you are. Who you worked for. Now, how long were you there?”

“A few months,” she gasps out.

“I’m sure you learned a lot, heard a lot, in that time, didn’t you?” I ask, only loosening my hold a fraction. “Like the location of their weapons stores? Or who some of their business associates were?”

“I heard a few things, but not a lot. I wasn’t there to get information,” she says with a hint of sarcasm. A bold move for a woman in her position.

“That’s right, you were there for revenge. Because Mikhail murdered your mother. What sort of revenge were you planning, then?” I ask.

She tilts her head back as much as my grip allows and raises her eyes to me. Eyes that spew hatred. I ignore the pang in my chest.

“Answer the question, Mila.”

“I was going to kill him,” she grinds out between clenched teeth.

“Then what?”

Her forehead wrinkles. “What do you mean?”

“You were inside his lair. If you killed him, did you really think his men were going to just let you walk out the front door?”

She actually rolls her eyes. “Of course not. I had an escape plan.”

I release my hold on her, since she is cooperating, and take a seat in the chair beside her. She rubs away the pain in her neck. I lean back, cross an ankle over my knee, and thread my fingers over my stomach. “Why don’t you tell me about this escape plan of yours.”

Mila slumps slightly in her seat. “Before I even showed up at his door, I watched the place from the outside. To make sure I could find another way out. I saw where the guards were, the security cameras, how often they changed shifts. I took note of everything I could, until one day I discovered a weakness in their defenses.”

“That spot in the wall. The place where you were trying to get out that night,” I say, actually impressed with what she’s told me. “I saw you pull out some of the loose bricks. I take it that was your handiwork.”

She nods. “Yes.”

“It must have taken quite a while to accomplish that. Months even. Add that to the few additional months you spent inside the estate and I’m guessing we’re talking close to half a year? That’s a long time to plot your revenge.”

She merely shrugs.

“So you kill Mikhail, somehow manage to sneak past all his security as well as the guards, and make it through that wall. What would have happened if you’d actually gotten out? And that’s a big if. Mikhail’s men would have been looking for you.”

“They were looking for a young soldier named Ivan, not a woman named Mila. I only had to remove the binding around my chest and put on a wig until my hair grew out. No one would know it had been me.”

My gaze drops to her breasts and back up. “Ah, yes, the cloth. It was all part of your disguise as this young soldier then?”

“That and protection,” she says.

“Protection from what?”

Mila looks at me like my question is stupid. “Men. It’s easier to hide in plain sight if they think you’re a boy.”

I study her. “Who were you hiding from?”

“I told you,” she sighs with annoyance. “Men.”

“That’s a broad generalization. All men, or just some of them?”

She shrugs. “Does it matter?”

“How did you know about Brenna?” I ask.

“I heard Mikhail bragging about having taken someone he called that Italian bastard’s so-called queen. By that time, he’d already discovered my deceit.” She pauses. “He punished me for it, too.”

My body goes rigid, and that familiar burning once again starts in my belly, as my mind pictures all her scars. No, they aren’t fresh enough to have happened within the last couple of months.

“How did he punish you?” I grind out, trying to calm myself. Look at how you just treated her. Are you any better? I stifle the voice.

Mila turns away and stares somewhere in front of her. “He had one of his men beat me unconscious and threw me in a closet for a few days.”

I think of her reaction when I’d left her in my playroom. Alone and in the dark. “Is that why you’re afraid of it? The dark I mean?”

“One of them.”

That gives me pause. What else has this woman experienced? I don’t have the energy to fight with her anymore this morning, so I don’t push it. “What happened after he let you out? How did you manage to get away, make your way through the interior without getting caught, and find Brenna?”

Mila’s eyes dart in my direction and quickly away. Her entire face flushes, and she straightens her shoulders with a deep breath before returning her gaze to mine and locking it there. “I let a guard fuck me and swiped the key from his pants,” she replies in a tone that dares me to judge her.