Chapter 7 - Alyssa

I had to move quickly. I had managed to sneak out while no one was watching. They were all in the kitchen arguing about me, giving me an opportunity. I moved around the house. Moving between the trees along the driveway, I managed to get to the gate. My legs burned, and my heart raced from running at full speed. Glancing back, I wondered if they had noticed my disappearance yet.

There was no time to worry about that. I had to get out and find the closest town. Next to the gate was what appeared to be a security gate. It wasn’t locked, and I didn’t see the guards. Carefully, I opened it and walked through. Once I was outside, I darted into the trees and headed west.

The area was unfamiliar, but I knew to the east was nothing. It was the way we had come. I felt sure there was a reason he came down that way. I suspected he didn’t want me to see the town close by. Running as fast as I could, I prayed to find some form of civilization soon.

It wouldn’t be much longer before they started searching. It felt like I had run a lifetime. My lungs stung, and my legs wobbled as I submerged from the bushes. Bending forward, I placed my hands on my knees, trying to calm the sharp pain shooting through me. Glancing around, I noticed I was on the edge of what looked like a small town.

Slowly, I made my way up the street until I saw a bar sign up ahead. I didn’t have much money and would have to find work. With the pocket change I had, there was no way I would even get a place for the night. Nearing the bar, I studied the area. All seemed reasonable, so I entered, hoping to find some form of work.

Entering, I kept my head down. I hoped the place was far enough out of Jones’s reach so he would know where I was. Glancing at the patrons as I walked to the bar, I stopped dead in my tracks. I had to look twice to make sure I had seen correctly.

Yes, I had, in the shadows of the bar. At the furthest corner sat one of Jones’s goons. He was downing his jug of beer and slammed the mug down on the counter. “Barkeep, another round,” he shouted cheerily.

I felt my chest tightening as his gaze turned to me. I stepped back quickly, praying he didn’t spot me. There was a moment of confusion on his face and then recognition. He rose sharply and stumbled a bit as he came towards me.

No, I wasn’t going back to Jones. I turned and ran. Exiting the bar, I headed around the side, hoping to find a place to hide. I couldn’t be caught and taken back. Running up the side of the bar, I saw a couple of dumpsters at the back. Maybe I could hide behind them, I thought as I looked back.

The goon was coming around the corner. My heart felt like it was about to tear out of my chest. Turning at the dumpsters, I felt a hand closing around my mouth and middle. Someone was pulling me into the shadows. I felt my stomach churning. The blood drained from my body as fear set in.

For a second, my vision blurred, and I was sure my chest was about to implode. Turning me towards a large tree, Piotr stepped into view as he covered my body with his. “Shh, be quiet,” he whispered.

The goon was standing by the bins, making a call. Piotr’s body was taut and hot against mine. His breathing was calm, but feeling his breath in my neck sent a shiver down my spine. As we stood waiting for the goon to move, my mind wandered.

His fighting technique was so unique. His moves in the ring were agile and appeared effortless. My stomach fluttered as I found myself wondering if he was just as flexible in bed. Piotr looked at me and our eyes met. For a moment, I thought he was going to kiss me.

His lips parted faintly. There was a fire in his eyes I had not seen before, and it took my breath away. I felt my skin tingling as he moved his hands down my arms to my hips. I had never felt like this before. My heartbeat slowed as I closed my eyes, leaning slightly towards him.

Feeling his breath on my lips caused my body to ache with a need for his touch. “We have to move,” he said suddenly.

Opening my eyes, I felt vaguely disappointed. Piotr took my hand and pulled me towards the other side of the street. The goon had joined some of Jones’s other men as they arrived by the bar entrance.

Walking into the darkness of the trees, I tried to make sense of the rush of emotions flooding me. I wasn’t sure what had just happened. But I felt sure he didn’t have the same pull as I had just experienced.

We exited the trees and went into the road that led to the mansion. Piotr stopped and turned me to face him. Taking me by the shoulders, he spoke in a harsh tone. “Tell me what is going on.”

I knew I had to be honest with Piotr if I wanted to get away from Jones. Swallowing hard, I looked around. The road was quiet. But I could hear crickets, frogs, or insects chirping away in the distance. I felt a heaviness settling in my heart as I started.

“My life has not been one of happiness,” I said, looking at the ground between our feet. “All I want is to get away from my stepfather Jones. The life he lives…” I breathed in heavily. “I want no part of that life.”

Looking up at Piotr, I could see he knew the kind of life I was talking about. Something in his eyes spoke of the pain he had endured growing up. He placed his arm around my shoulder, and we walked back towards the mansion gate.

“As I told you, I was saving up to leave the night he put me up as the prize for the fight. I just want to leave the country and go somewhere he will never find me.” Stopping, I turned to Piotr. “Please, will you help me when the time is right?”

Looking into his gray eyes, I noticed a softness in them. “I’ll consider it,” he said softly. Turning back to the mansion, he continued as we walked. “You must promise not to run away again, and I’ll see what we can do about your situation.”

“Thank you, Piotr,” I replied, feeling safe for the first time in many years.

At the gate, Konstantin and Mila stood waiting. Mila didn’t look pleased, but she kept quiet. I was glad she didn’t say something, as I still wasn’t sure how I felt about these people.

We all headed back up the long path in silence. Back at the mansion, Mila made another cup of coffee. This time, we sat in silence on the front veranda, enjoying our coffee.

Mila and Konstantin took our cups to the kitchen. Once inside, Piotr stood, holding out his hand as he spoke. “I’m moving you to another room.”

Taking his hand, I followed him inside. “I’m sorry I wasn’t honest from the start,” I said as we headed up the stairs. “It’s hard for me to trust people.”