Love Bites & Bullet Holes

Feverish Memories

"Get down. NOW." His tone was eerily calm and a shiver stole over me, my body locked in place. I couldn't comply with his demand. For one, I didn't get up here on my own so with my ankle so injured I couldn't just jump down without help. And then two, I was literally frozen in fear. All I could see when I looked at him was his cold, hard, face when he shot one of his own men down. As if the man had been nothing but a stray dog gone rabid. He hadn't even blinked. I felt my stomach churn and I hoped to God I didn't embarrass myself further by puking all over him.

When I didn't immediately make a move to get down, he narrowed his eyes and straightened away from me. "Are you defying me Mysh?" he asked, steel in his voice. I notice Ivan shifting uncomfortably in the entrance to the kitchen and I shot him a desperate look. My mouth opened to say that I truly couldn't get down but all that escaped with a pitiful squeak. I didn't think he could get angrier, but right now, his expression resembled a storm cloud. He reached for me and before I could stop myself I flinched away violently, slapping his hand away in the process. A sudden stillness fell over the kitchen as I realized when I'd done.

"Oh fuck!" Ivan hissed under his breath, before closing the distance that separated us. All I could do was gape helplessly at Gavriil while Ivan tried to subtly slip between us. "Boss...let me handle this, you're so late already and-" he didn't get to finished as Gavriil shot him a look that had the other male pursing his lips and stepping aside. "On second thought, there's a thing about a thing I have to attend to so..." he threw me a sympathetic look over his shoulder and hurried out of the kitchen. Leaving us alone. I was definitely dying tonight. At least I would be going on a stomach full of delicious pastries. At least I had that experience to console me.

"I-I-I I'm sorry!" I squeaked out, watching him stalk towards me. "I didn't mean it! I! You just! And t-then-" before I could get out the pathetic jumble of words, he snatched me off the counter and threw me over his shoulders. On instinct, a scream bubbled up my throat and burst out of my mouth. Loud, long, and unforgiving. I thrashed against his hold not caring that the movements caused intense pain to spread over my bruised ribs or that my shirt was now riding up. "No! Put me down! Put me DOWN! Stop!" I screamed and kicked and cursed him as he carried me effortlessly through the house. Deja vu hit me as he pushed his room door open and marched inside. Before I could blink I was thrown down on the bed. Again.

I didn't get the opportunity to sit up. His hand gripped my cheeks, squeezing them tight enough to cause discomfort, and his other hand pressed into the space beside my head. Holding his kneeling body up above me. "Dostatochno! (That's enough!)" he growled, staring down at me in anger. "Pochemu ty tak menya boish'sya? (Are you so scared of me?)" I didn't understand a thing, but the way he barked out the words made me flinch. My heart pounding erratically against my chest. His hand slowly left my face and trailed down to my neck. His grip was firm, bordering on almost too tight, but I didn't dare move. "...Even now your pulse is like a hummingbird...Ya byl neprav, chtoby tebya ne ubit'...(I was wrong not to kill you...)". His harshly whispered words increased my feeling of helplessness and as much as I tried to stop myself, I felt hot tears prick my eyes before tracking their way down my face. It was too late to hold anything back now and I found myself outright sobbing. Little broken gasps shaking my small frame and my stomach clenched.

I wanted so badly to roll away from him and bury my face into the sheet. But his hold on me didn't allow me that small courtesy to hide my shame. With nowhere else to look, I found my eyes landing on his, his face blurry through my tears. But what I did make out confused me. He wore an expression that I had never seen on him before. Granted, I haven't known him long at all. But I didn't have to, to know that he was a man of very little emotional displays. However, right now, hovering over me as he was, his hand wrapped around my throat and my tears soaking into his sheets, he actually looked... stunned.