skin and muscle have been flayed away. It doesn’t hurt, however. I’m way past feeling any pain.
“Stay awake!” Pavel orders, slapping my cheeks as he takes over for Willow.
My chin lolls to my chest, and suddenly, I’m so tired. I want to return to the place I was before I awoke to this…this nightmare. It was quiet there. I felt at peace…something I haven’t felt in a very long time.
Larisa’s voice fades in and out, but her frantic Russian alerts me to my dire circumstance. If she doesn’t tend to my wounds, she fears I’ll lose my leg. Or worse still…my life. That’s what I wanted, though. But not like this, not when Ella is unsafe. And not when I need to uncover what happened to Irina.
I fall backward onto something hard. It smells wretched in here. I then remember I defiled Ella in this very barn like a savage. She deserved so much better. She deserved silk and satins, but I merely took her like an ungrateful beast.
“Saint,” I pant into nothingness because I’m swathed in darkness, and I’m so cold.
“Yes, I’m here.” He sounds so far away.
“Promise me you’ll save her.” I lift my head off the workbench to search for him, but strong hands pin me down.
“No, I will not promise you that,” he stubbornly rebukes, “’cause we’re going to do it together.”
“No, my friend, I cannot,” I argue, shivering so hard, my teeth rattle. “I am…so c-cold.”
“Oh, g-god, help h-him. Please.” Willow’s sweet prayers and tears are wasted on a monster like me.
“Do not cry, дорогая,” I say, searching for her hand. Her warm fingers clench mine a moment later. “As I once said, don’t waste your tears on someone like me.”
“Fight!” Saint demands, angered I would give up this way. But I’m not strong like him. “If you die now, all of this would have been for nothing! Don’t you dare dishonor those who sacrificed everything for you to live. Do this for Zoey! Do this for Ella. And do this for me.”
“Aleksei, if you don’t fight, you will die,” Larisa states firmly. I didn’t think she’d be opposed to the idea, but it seems as though I may be wrong.
She orders Pavel to go inside and grab a laundry list of supplies.
“Where is Irina?” I ask, desperately trying to fight off what feels like tens of thousands of hands touching me. They are suffocating.
“She’s inside, sleeping. Max is watching over her.” Willow’s voice calms me somewhat.
Saint speaks to Larisa in Russian, but his words are a jumbled mess as his voice floats further and further away. “Aнгел, go inside. This isn’t going to be pleasant.”
Yes, please listen to Saint. I don’t want to subject Willow to atrocities that will scar her forever.
“I’ll see you when you wake, Alek,” she says as something wet and warm caresses my cheek. I soon realize it’s a tear-laden kiss.
“I’ll see you when I see you,” I reply with what feels like a smile, but my face grows numb.
“This is going to hurt. A lot,” Saint says while I hear the distinct sound of scissors cutting through material. “But you’re Aleksei motherfucking Popov, and I’ve seen you handle worse. So stop being a little pussy and fight.”
His pep talk has me wheezing. I was trying to laugh. But that soon turns to a winded gasp as I feel immense pressure and hear a brutal crack…then the pain follows. Pain I’ve never felt before. Gripping the bench beneath me, I try to stay still, but this feels like my bones are being ripped out of my skin.
“Eбать!” I scream, unable to breathe. But I can do this. I must.
“Sorry,” Saint pants, and before I have a chance to ask what he’s apologizing for, my world is no more because the son of a bitch has knocked me out cold.
I’ll thank him when I wake. Or rather, if…
Every part of me is screaming. My mind. Body. Soul.
I will myself to slip back into the darkness because here, there’s no pain. Only weightlessness. But if I stay a moment longer, I’m afraid I’ll never resurface again.
So I force my eyes open, and little by little, I take in my surroundings, struggling to remember my last solid memory.
Ella…
I jar upright, causing a nauseating pain to follow the jolted movements. With a groan, I barely hold down my vomit. My vision is blurred, but I would recognize Saint, even if I were blind.
From the wooden rocking chair in the corner of the room where