sick swastika, but it was different and very crude.”
He chuckled darkly and looked out the window. “The Petrov Bratva. They are even more savage than the Federovs. The marks are carved into those deemed loyal. So it is true,” he said more to himself, cursing under his breath.
“What is true?”
“Another Bratva is attempting to take over my father’s territory.”
“What about your brother? Does that mean he’s involved? Did he sell out?”
“That I do not know.” He walked toward me, grabbing one of his bags.
I had nothing else to tell him. He’d captured a small piece of my heart. That sickened me. I’d allowed him inside, if only for a little while. At least he’d reminded me about the monster living in the depths of his being. Perhaps I should feel grateful for his acts of condemnation.
Nikolai crouched down in front of me again. In his hand was a thick piece of gauze and some medical tape.
“You carry that with you everywhere you go?” I managed as he slowly removed the towel.
“I learned a long time ago to have basics with me in case of an emergency.”
“You mean in case of an attack.” The fight in me was fading. Maybe I was simply exhausted.
“I’m so sorry, Chloe. I never meant to hurt you.”
I was so tense, fearful of even looking at him, but the light brush of the tip of his finger across my cheek created a wave of tingles. The concern in his voice was genuine.
So was the regret.
“Good, the bleeding has already stopped. It’s not as deep as I thought. Keep this wrapped. We’ll change the dressing tomorrow.” He finished the dressing, moving his hand once again to brush his fingers across my cheek.
After flinching, I nodded, finding no point in continuing the conversation. All I wanted to do was scrub the stink of the experience away. “I’m going to take a shower. Then I’ll make something to eat.” I managed to ease away from him without looking back.
What I found it too damn ridiculous to believe or accept was that he’d stripped away a portion of my heart.
The very piece that had found it difficult not to fall hard for the sexy, dangerous man.
A professor.
A hero.
A monster.
Chapter 11
Chloe
Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. I’ve fallen in love with a badass murderer.
“Take that, Pops.” I laughed bitterly after starting the water, waiting a few seconds so I wouldn’t freeze to death. To my surprise, the splash over my uninjured hand was warm, bordering on hot. Just stripping off my clothes almost became an exercise in futility, the bandage far too much of a hindrance.
But I finally prevailed, stepping into the claustrophobic stall and backing against the furthest wall. At least I had some peace and privacy, not completely under the man’s scrutiny. I closed my eyes, trying to work through the frustration and the fear. I enjoyed a few minutes of quiet, enough to be able to breathe again.
The slight cold draft made me bristle. I should have known he wouldn’t leave me alone. “Don’t,” I whispered, yet my body’s reaction was immediate, butterflies swarming my tummy, my pulse racing. I was breathless from his scent alone. When I opened my eyes, I was driven back into the same roar of desire I’d experienced the night before.
He closed the curtain, his eyes piercing mine. Every move he made was that of a true predator stalking his prey, inching ever so slightly closer until he was merely centimeters away.
I pushed my hand against his chest, unable to stop the connection we’d shared since the beginning of this nightmare. He’d captured a portion of me that he’d never return, and I’d never be free of him.
There was something entirely different about him, as if I’d cracked the last piece of his armor. But there was no way to fully trust him. I couldn’t take the anguish.
When he was mere inches away, his chest rising and falling, he studied me for several seconds. He took an exaggerated deep breath, his nostrils flaring. The pulsing water beaded down his chest, the dim bathroom light adding a light sheen to his ink. Reaching out, I traced the gorgeous dragon, swirling the tip of my finger around the creature’s eye.
He didn’t interrupt nor did he try to touch me. It was just a quiet moment shared between lovers.
The joy of discovering his tattoos allowed me to understand a small portion of him. He’d chosen bold characters; creatures considered the strongest and most cunning. He