Chapter 7 - Clara

Sitting in the passenger seat riding back towards his stupid house in the stupid woods that I almost escaped from, I am sulking.

Like a child.

My bottom lip is pouted out.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew I couldn't actually walk all the way back to town. I knew how far it was. I knew it was cold and dark. But I had to try.

And I failed.

I also hate the fact that it is warm in the car, and I am actually relieved he came and found me. My one foot is aching so badly and definitely bleeding again. My feet are both freezing cold and I'm hungry.

I glance over at him. The profile of his face just visible in the dimly lit night.

Alexei isn't talking. He is focused on the road ahead, quietly contemplating something he isn't sharing.

I imagine he's pissed off with me for escaping again.

I fold my arms across my chest, a gesture to show him that I'm annoyed but also because I'm cold.

We pull up into the driveway of his forest mansion and I wait for him to get the door that I can't open from my side because of the stupid child lock.

I'm about to step out of the car when the door swings open, but instead he leans in and wraps his arm around me.

Without a word he lifts me back over his shoulder and I scream in anger.

"I can walk."

"I'm not taking any more chances with you, sweetheart."

"Don't call me that," I snap, flopping my body over his shoulder to try and be as heavy as possible and annoy him so that he puts me down, but he doesn't even seem to notice.

He carries me into the garage. Scratching around in a drawer, he pulls something out, then carries me into the house.

Up to the room.

And tosses me back onto the bed.

Leaning over me, he pulls off my wet and muddy socks and dries my feet with the towel that is still at the foot of the bed. "Really, Clara." He sighs when he sees he has to redo the bandages. I purse my lips and roll my eyes. What did he expect? That I was going to just sit here and let myself be kidnapped?

I sit with my arms folded across my chest as he works quietly. Replacing the muddy bandages with fresh ones, then pulling another pair of socks over my feet.

When he's done I scoot up the bed, leaning against the headboard, waiting for him to leave.

But he doesn't leave.

He pulls his jacket off and tosses it over the back of a chair, then unbuttons his shirt. My eyes are going where they shouldn't go. My heart is beating hard and fast.

I shift uncomfortably. What is he doing?

Then he tugs his belt off and kicks his shoes off. I swallow hard. This isn't happening. Why is my body heating up?

"Alexei—" I pull my legs up against my chest, making a tight, safe little ball with my body.

He slips his hand into his pocket and pulls something metal and silver from it. I can't see what it is. Now he's walking over to me. I'm scuttling backwards, feeling nervous.

He grabs my wrist, and before I even know what is going on, a clicking sound snaps through the air and I'm staring down at a pair of handcuffs.

One on my wrist, the other on his.

"Alexei, no, what the hell?" I shout in horror, tugging my arm away from him and feeling the bite of metal in my skin. When I look up at him the grin on his face is massive.

"Let's see your plan for escaping now, gorgeous little fox." He laughs.

"You can't be serious. How will I sleep? How will I pee?"

"You'll just have to figure it out. Seeing as I can't trust you, this is what's happening."

"But this is stupid. I need privacy. I need to—I need my hand." I moan loudly.

"Clara, I gave you privacy. I gave you your own room, even, but you took advantage of my leniency and ran away again."

"Please, you can't do this. Please just let me go home. I won't even tell anyone. I can sneak back in the same way I snuck out." I pull my arm away from him and the handcuffs cut into my skin again. Dammit, that hurts.

He laughs again. What the fuck is so funny?

He leans close to me and the heat from his body pulses over my skin.

His stomach muscles ripple as he moves, and I find myself staring at his tanned skin. Stop looking, Clara, pull yourself together.

I bite my lower lip as I drag my eyes upwards, over his chest, over his board shoulders, running the taunt line of his neck—then I meet his stare and see amusement in his eyes.

Embarrassment flushes my cheeks pink and heat spreads over my face.

He caught me staring.

He reaches his hand up to my face and brushes his warm fingers over my cheeks. It sends a thrilling bolt of electricity down my spine and I feel my lips parting.

I can't help myself—I'm thinking of how amazing it felt to kiss him at the restaurant the other day. Oh my word. His lips. His face is so close to mine. I could just—

Stop.

Stop.

Stop .

Get a grip, girl. He kidnapped you, again. You can't trust him.

My lust turns to anger because I don't know what else to do with it. I have to put it somewhere, and I certainly can't kiss this asshole, so I end up shouting at him instead.

"I hate you for this," I scream. Suddenly not caring if he's angry or annoyed. I want to go home. I want to get away from him. I don't want to feel so attracted to the man who took me against my will and handcuffed me to his body.

Alexei moves towards me. He grabs my wrists and tugs me against his body, rough and angry. His eyes are piercing into me. He's had enough of my shit, I can see it all over his face—his jaw muscles are feathering in annoyance, his bright blue eyes like thorns stinging into me.

"If you fight me, you will regret it," he snarls into my face, so close I can feel the heat of his breath against my skin.

I feel tears stinging my eyes. I don't want him to see how scared I am. "Please, let me go."

"Stop asking," he yells, his voice booming through the room. "Stop asking. It isn't going to happen. You are mine now, and you will be staying right here with me until I decide you can go."

"What do you want from me?" I scream in desperation.

He picks up a cold cup of coffee from the bedside table and flings it across the room. It shatters against the wall near the window and I cringe into myself, blocking my face with my free hand and shutting my eyes as tightly as I can in order to block out the look of hatred and rage on his face. I pushed him too far. I know what happens when you push men too far.

Right now, he looks just like my uncle when he gets angry. I had no idea Alexei could look like that, and I feel terrified to my core.

My body starts to shake uncontrollably, a reaction I can't stop and one that embarrasses me. I scrunch my eyes even tighter shut to try and stop the tears, but they are spilling through despite my best efforts.

Alexei has gone quiet. I don't feel any movement against my cuffed hand. I can feel the heat of his body, and I can hear his heavy breathing, but he is otherwise silent.

I'm too scared to look, too scared to move.

My free hand is still up over my face to protect myself. I just want to hide away. I wish I could crawl under the bed and disappear.

"Clara."

His voice is a gentle whisper. Deep and soothing.

I take a shaking breath in as I try to stop crying because I am sure it will make him angrier.

"Clara. Little fox. Open your eyes."

I feel his fingers brush over my cheeks, wiping away my tears.

His voice is soothing and calm.

I open my eyes, blinking. Rubbing my hand across my face to try and hide the evidence of my weakness. My tears.

The way he is looking at me takes me by surprise. I don't see any anger in his face anymore.

"I'm so sorry, little fox," he says, his hand wrapping around my jaw as though he is caressing me. "I didn't mean to frighten you."

I don't know what to say. Is this some kind of trick? Is he going to suddenly flip back to his other mood? I stare at him, wide-eyed, waiting for whatever is coming next. My uncle never calms down this quickly.

He screams and shouts and smashes things. He breaks everything in reach and yells for as long as he feels like while his face goes red and the veins on his neck and forehead pop out like angry red snakes. He doesn't stop for at least an hour once he's started and he gets nasty. Really nasty. Never hitting me, well not before tonight, but his words cut into me, belittling me and making me feel worthless.

Everything my uncle makes me feel when he gets angry is pulsing through my blood right now. A default reaction by my body because it remembers.

Alexei keeps his eyes locked on mine. "It's okay, I promise you. It's okay," he soothes, and the deepness of his voice rumbles through my chest in such a way that I take a slow, long breath. I can feel the tension leaving my body. How is he doing this?

Blinking a few times, I can't look away from him. His eyes are bright blue and so calm now.

"I'm sorry I shouted."

"Uh," I stammer, not sure what's happening. Not sure what to say.

He shifts positions on the bed so that he isn't leaning over me, but rather lying next to me. Because our hands are cuffed together, he wraps his arm around me and pulls me up against his body.

I shiver.

Not from fear.

From the feeling of being against him like this, like our bodies have been carved into each other to fit perfectly. No, Clara, stop thinking such ridiculous things. I feel my muscles start to tense again.

"Relax, little fox. Take a deep breath. I will never hurt you." My back is pressed against his chest and his voice is moving through me.

I close my eyes. I'm so confused.

I would never have expected such tenderness from a man like Alexei.

He is the chaos. The wild one. The irresponsible, reckless Dubrov. He is ruthless and cold, and he takes what he wants. He isn't soft like this. I don't know this side of him, and I can't seem to accept it.

I take another deep breath and suddenly realize how tired I am. Maybe it was all the adrenaline, and running, and trying to escape being freaking kidnapped . All that anger has drained me, too. My body seems to go limp in his arms as I just give up for a moment.

"Are you ok now?" he whispers against my ear.

I don't reply.

I can't.

I can't speak to him right now because the way he is treating me is so confusing. One minute, I want to hate him for kidnapping me, and now, despite every neuron in my brain firing a thousand warnings, all I want to do is lie in his arms like this, and for some reason, it feels like the safest place in the entire world.

Which I know is ridiculous.

This is Alexei Dubrov.

He is not a safe person to be around.

Whatever he is doing now must be a manipulation. A tactic of some kind.

I must be tired. That's all.

I just need sleep.

Tomorrow, I can figure out how to get away. Right now, I should rest.

I close my eyes and he traces his fingers over my shoulder, moving in slow circles.

It takes everything in me to ignore it, the way the trail of his touch leaves foreign feelings on my skin. Tingling, warm sensations that I have never felt before.

I won't let him see my vulnerability.

I'm angry enough at myself that he saw me crying, I won't let him see my softness.

I have to stay strong until I get another chance to escape.

I won't let him trick me into believing he is a good man.

I keep my eyes tightly closed and start counting in my head to pull my thoughts away from how his body feels against mine.

I keep counting and ignore his calming and reassuring words.

I keep counting until my mind starts fading into sleep.