Midnight Purgatory (Bugrov Bratva #1)(23)

“I’m the suspicious one?” I ask, wrenching myself back to the topic at hand.

“You got a freaking finger in a box!” she exclaims. “A finger. In a box. In the mail. What kind of man gets packages like that?”

“The kind of man whose fence you should not be scaling.”

She throws her hands up in the air. “Yeah, okay, fair point. But it’s not like I knew that then. And anyway, my only concern was getting that package back before—”

“Before anyone knew all the freaky shit you’re into?”

“It’s not for me!” she explodes, practically frothing at the mouth with rage.

I have to try hard to suppress my laughter. I do a piss-poor job of it, though, which I know because her glare only gets more pointed. For a blush-prone wallflower, she’s got a lot of spice.

“Right. ‘Elle.’ Who most definitely is a person who exists.”

“She’s a real freaking person! And you’re a real freaking asshole. I’m sure the legion of women you fuck and forget on a nightly basis will agree with me on that one.”

“Unlike you, those women have realistic expectations of me.”

“It’s not an unrealistic expectation to want to get out of your neighbor’s house alive.”

I laugh in her face. “You think I’m gonna kill you?” She takes another unsmiling step backward, which is as good as an answer. “For fuck’s sake, princess: if I wanted to kill you, you’d be dead already.”

“Oh, well, isn’t that comforting.” Her legs hit the edge of the bed and she hisses in surprise. She mutters under her breath, an obscenity that makes my smirk twitch, before she straightens up again. “I won’t tell anyone about what I saw. I swear to you, I will take this secret to the grave. You can trust me. Just—just let me go.”

“You want me to trust you?”

“I know that’s difficult for a man like you, but I’m different. I can be trusted.”

My eyes narrow. The woman really needs to work on her convincing skills. “‘A man like me’? Explain what that means to you.”

She swallows but her hands aren’t trembling anymore. “A man who can’t or won’t trust anyone else.”

The fact that she thinks she knows me is laughable. But I know the moment I push that point, she’s going to interpret it as defensiveness.

“Listen,” she continues, “you don’t know me well, but I am a woman of my word. If I make a promise, I will keep it.”

She’s emphatic—but letting her walk off my property is no longer an option.

I sigh. “Unfortunately, your word is not enough. For the time being—”

But I’m forced to break off mid-sentence because she springs forward, her eyes wild and unhinged as her knee flies upwards towards my crotch.

It’s reckless enough to take me by surprise.

Her aim isn’t as pointed as her glare, though, so while her knee brushes against my balls, it doesn’t make contact. At least not the kind of contact that would take me out for any length of time.

Not that it would matter even if it did. I made sure to lock the door when I walked in. Which Alyssa discovers a second later when she darts past me and tries furiously to pull it open.

She yanks hard but it remains stubbornly shut. “No!” she screams. “No! Let me out! Help! Someone! Let me OUT!”

She’s pounding those delicate little fists against the door frame but her screams are making more tremors than her hands are. I gather myself and approach her from the back, noticing how quickly her confidence has melted into panic.

“Please! Someone! I—”

“No one can hear you, Alyssa.” I have to talk loudly so I can be heard over the screaming and pounding. “It’s just us in here.”

She shakes her head like that’ll change reality and keeps attacking the door. It feels like a weird and twisted sense of déjà vu. Except it’s not Lev I’m dealing with this time.

Although, come to think of it… maybe the same approach would work here, too.

Avoiding her flailing fists, I find an opening, grab her arms, and pin them against her body. I create a human straitjacket of myself as I restrain her.

“No!” she shrieks, nearly taking out an eardrum. “Let me go!”

She kicks at the door, launching herself into the air for a moment. I pull her away from the entrance and tighten my grip on her. “Calm down. Calm down. I’m not going to hurt you. But you need to breathe.”

I’m not sure why she listens. It’s hard to believe she can hear my soft words over the racket she’s making, but almost immediately, she stops screaming. Her body is still alive with trembles and her breathing is coming in hot and heavy.

But I don’t let go. I don’t loosen my grip on her.

Her heat mingles with mine and I catch that honeysuckle scent of hers. Don’t get distracted, I warn myself. This is business.

Unfortunately, my cock has a mind of his own.

I ignore the horny little fucker and keep talking. “Just breathe. It’s gonna be okay. Just breathe.”

Her struggle turns into a last few weak spasms before she stops moving entirely. “How is it gonna be okay?” she asks softly, her voice mired down with fear. “How is anything going to be okay?”