The Enemy in My Bed by L.K. Shaw
Chapter 21
Mila
“My mother would loveit out here,” Brenna says as she pulls a few weeds out of the nearest flower bed.
As promised, she’d shown up about an hour ago, wearing a pair of linen slacks and a sleeveless shirt, carrying a large, floppy hat, a basket full of gardening tools, and some takeout. I’d flushed with guilt when the guard dog with her had to disengage the lock on the French doors, because I didn’t know the code. Brenna sent me a knowing glance that I ignored as I led her out onto the patio.
“My sister would as well,” I tell her.
She glances over at me. “Younger or older?”
“Younger by six years. Anya just turned eighteen last month.” I have to look away and clear my throat.
Thankfully Brenna doesn’t question my reaction. “I have a younger sister as well. Caitlín will be sixteen in a few months. She’s far too smart for her own good. She’d also never sit still long enough to appreciate this beautiful garden.”
Anya is smart too. Up until our mother was killed, she excelled in school. All honors classes. She expected to be valedictorian at her graduation next year. I swallow the lump in my throat.
“Are you and your sister close?” Brenna asks.
I sigh and my vision blurs. “We used to be.”
“I’m sorry. I know I’m being nosy. I’ve starting taking after my sister. There’s never been a secret she hasn’t learned. Although, she’s far more stealthy about getting someone to spill them than I am.” She chuckles.
“It’s okay,” I say, swiping at my eyes with my shirt sleeve. “She went missing six months ago. It’s hard to talk about her when I don’t know if she’s safe or even still alive.”
Brenna gasps. “Oh, Mila, I’m so sorry.”
I don’t have any friends besides Anya. They’d all moved on with their lives and didn’t have time to fight for a friendship with someone who had closed themselves off years ago. I glance over at Brenna, who has stopped plucking at weeds, and whose sympathetic gaze is focused on me. Is it even possible for she and I to become friends?
“She’s the reason I was at Mikhail’s estate. I’ve been looking for her since she disappeared,” I confess. “Pierce says he’s going to find her for me. It’s so hard to hold onto hope though, after all this time, you know? Because if he does find her, she’s never going to be my sweet little Anya again. Not after what they’ve done to her.”
“Pierce is looking for her?” Brenna asks in surprise.
I nod. “Yes.”
She doesn’t say anything for several minutes. She only sits there with a thoughtful expression on her face while I return to pruning some of the dead leaves off the gardenia bush. Footsteps from inside the house turn my head. Striding from the living room out onto the patio is Pierce. Behind him is his boss.
Brenna looks up at their arrival and rises to her feet, brushing dirt off her slacks, as her husband approaches her. I drop the pruning shears into the basket and quickly follow. I wipe my hands on my legs.
“Hello.” She goes up on tiptoe and brushes a kiss across his lips.
My eyes meet Pierce’s, and I look away from the heat in them. I haven’t seen him since he left last night. I’m still feeling fragile after what happened. His fingers wrap around my hand and my head jerks up to meet his gaze. He pulls me over into the shade and scans my face.
“Your nose and cheeks are red,” he says softly. “I’ll make sure to get you a hat if you’re going to be spending time out here.”
Does that mean I’ll get to come outside more often?What does he want in exchange? There’s a new look in his eyes I can’t read. Or maybe I don’t want to read. “Thank you. It’s been a while since I’ve spent this much time in the sun. I’ve enjoyed working out here today, though.”
“I’m glad.”
An awkward silence grows between us. It’s as though neither of us know what to say or how to act around each other since we seem to have settled on some sort of truce. Pierce isn’t treating me like the enemy.
“Have you eaten today?” he asks, breaking the silence.
“Yes. Brenna and I had a nice lunch together.” Goodness, I completely forgot about her. I turn to apologize, but neither she nor her husband are there.
“They left already.”
“Oh.” I face Pierce again, feeling my cheeks heat from more than just the sunburn. I can’t believe I’d been so oblivious. “Great, Brenna probably thinks I’m rude for ignoring her.”
His expression completely transforms into something I’ve never seen before. “She doesn’t think you’re rude.”
Before I can stop myself, I reach up and trace the smile. Pierce’s hand curls around my wrist, holding it in place, and he presses a gentle kiss against my fingertip. The corners of his lips relax, and his expression turns serious.
“Are we going to talk about what happened last night?” he asks, gently.
I tug my arm down. He doesn’t release his hold on me at first, but after another tug, he lets go. My arms wrap around my waist in a protective gesture, and I turn slightly away from him, taking a small step back. I should have known he wouldn’t let what happened go. It was only wishful thinking on my part. Like Brenna described her sister, this man will pull every secret from a person.
“I’d rather not.”
“Mila.” Pierce moves toward me.
I shake my head. “Please, don’t.”
He drops his outstretched arm to his side with a sigh and disappears back into the house. I move to the table and collapse into the chair, tugging my knees up to my chest, and stare out at the garden. Early evening comes before the scent of something cooking comes floating through the doors Pierce had left open.
I rise from my seat and head inside to find him standing at the stove.
He glances over his shoulder. “There are plates and utensils in the paper bag on the counter. Maybe you can set the table. Dinner should be ready soon.”
I unstick my feet and cross the kitchen to unpack the bag he’d indicated. We work silently while he finishes cooking and I fill our glasses with ice cold water from the freezer door. Before long, we’re sitting at the table eating, the unsteady truce we’ve had starting to feel a little shaky. Which is most likely my fault, but I just can’t talk about it. Not yet.
I crawlinto bed and lie on my side facing away from the door. Pierce is still outside, on yet another phone call. He’s been talking to someone, or several someones, off and on since after our uncomfortable, and quiet, dinner. I leave the lamp on in case he plans on joining me.
There are times when I feel as though something has changed between us. It was the same way with Maksim in the beginning. I should be used to the mind games, but I can’t seem to convince my heart what my brain knows.
Faint footsteps travel the hall, each one growing louder. If he’s joining me, will he stay afterward? Do I want him to? I don’t turn. I remain where I am, imagining what article of clothing he’s removing with each small rustling sound. My fingers itch to help him.
Moments later, Pierce turns out the light and slides in next to me. I don’t have to wait long before he pulls me against his body, wrapping his arms around me so my entire backside is pressed to his front. I expect him to start touching me like that first night he came to my bed, but he does nothing more than hold me. Unexpected tears fill my eyes. God, I haven’t cried this much since I was twenty. I never knew how good it could feel just to be held. Pierce’s mindfuck is certainly working.
“If you won’t talk about what happened last night, then why don’t you tell me how you got these?”
I stiffen and try to move away at the feel of Pierce’s fingers tracing the scars along my back. He only tightens his grip around my waist. With every question, it’s as though he’s flaying me alive. Perhaps that’s his intent.
“They were given to me by a man named Maksim.” I give in, because I don’t have it in me to fight. Not tonight. He’s chipped away at too much.
Pierce continues touching each one, as though memorizing them. “That didn’t answer my question. I want to know how you got them.”
I close my eyes against the painful memories. He isn’t going to let this go. “I got them by fighting back. By refusing to beg. I got them as a reminder. So I never forget who I am, which is no one. I got them because I was weak.”
“Mila,” Pierce growls into my ear.
“Nothing beyond that matters. Why make me pick at a scab that’s long been healed over? All that will do is add another scar to the ones already there. Don’t I have enough?”
He lets out a sigh. “What if I want to get rid of your scars?”
I shake my head. “Don’t be naive. Scars as deep as these, you can’t just get rid of, no matter how hard you try. They’re permanently etched into my skin.”
“Look at me,” Pierce commands.
Because it’s pointless to resist, I roll onto my other side and face him, but keep my eyes on the crown on his chest. He pinches my chin between his thumb and forefinger and tips my head up, so I have no choice but to meet his gaze.
“I’m not talking about the scars on your back. I’m talking about the ones here.” Pierce releases his hold and places his hand over my heart.
My eyes burn with unshed tears, and it’s hard to swallow. “Those might be even harder to erase.”
“Tell me what Maksim did to you,” he says softly.
Why can’t he be demanding? Why can’t he be the angry man from that room? The one who was rough and unkind. Him I could resist. This new Pierce is so much worse. Because I want to tell him. I want to cut open my chest and bare my soul. My every wound. I can’t trust my wants, though. I can’t trust him. No matter what promises he makes. No matter how kind he is. No matter how caring he seems. It doesn’t stop me from answering, though.
“Maksim was the first person to ever pay attention to me. I can’t even remember how it started. Maybe walking home with Anya from school one day. I was lonely so I soaked it all up, too,” I swallow, remembering how special I’d felt. “He’d show up on the same street corner every day, and when we’d pass him, he’d walk us the rest of the way home. I knew he worked for Mikhail, and that he was trying to move up in the ranks. It didn’t take long before he asked me out. He treated me to a nice dinner and when he asked me back to his place for a drink, I went, even though I wasn’t legal drinking age.”
I shiver, and Pierce tugs the covers higher up around me. It doesn’t help to get rid of the coldness that settles deep in my bones. I clear my throat.
“When I woke up I was tied up and blindfolded. And then my nightmare began. I was starved. Beaten. He told me I was a whore, just like my mother. I needed to be taught a lesson. So that I never forgot that I was nothing. No one,” my voice cracks. “I was his prisoner for days. Weeks even. You lose track of time when you’re always kept in the dark. Then, one day he lets me go. Just like that.”
“Do you know where is he, now?”
It’s too dark to make out his features, but the rage is clear in his voice. For a moment I’m thrown back to those first few days after my capture when I was stuck in that room, and a shiver runs through me. “No. I haven’t seen him since I was dropped back off at my mother’s house over four years ago. He wasn’t at the compound while I was there. I’m not sure I would have been able to make myself go in there if he had been. Not even for Anya. Does that make me a terrible sister?”
Pierce palms my cheek. “No. It makes you human.”
“I hope he’s dead so I never have to see him again. I hope that he crossed the wrong person and they gave him exactly what he deserved.”
“If he isn’t dead already, he will be. I can promise you that.”
“You keep making all these promises that I don’t trust. Because in the end, nothing has changed. I’m still who I am and you’re still who you are. Your hatred of Mikhail is all consuming. He hurt your sister, so I understand. He hurt mine, too. No matter how kind you seem to be, I understand that it’s all an illusion. A cruel illusion.” I swallow around the growing lump in my throat. “Because it’s worse than what Maksim did to me. He was never gentle. Never kind. But you? You give me that. Gentleness. Kindness. You give me hope. Things I’ve never had before. Then you take it all away. I can’t handle you continuing to destroy me little by little.”
