7. Elle

7

ELLE

I don’t remove the blindfold until long after the footsteps disappear down the fire escape, my body still frozen after what just happened.

I kissed him. My anonymous captor, or rescuer, depending on how I look at it. I still can’t decide how I want to label him, not that it really matters.

What does matter is how incredible it was.

The way he immediately took control, so desperate to explore my mouth with his tongue, had my eyes rolling back and my pulse racing.

No kiss has ever felt so intense, and I’m desperate for more.

So, so much more.

If I was sane, I would be immediately making my way to my uncle's house to recite to him, in detail, the events of the last forty-eight hours. Everything from the kidnapping down to the mystery man who kept me locked away in his cabin in the middle of the woods.

But I’m not sane. I just proved that from the way I made out with a man who openly admitted to stalking me .

If Massimo were to ever learn the truth, he would be dead, and for some sick and twisted reason, that is the last thing I want.

A hysterical laugh escapes my lips as I finally remove the blindfold.

I half wish he snuck back inside while I was mentally reliving the entire thing. But when I glance around, I find the space empty and exactly how I left it on Friday morning.

My laundry basket is still overflowing, my makeup still litters my vanity table from when I rushed to get ready for my shift, and the stack of books next to my bed is still waiting to be read.

It’s all so boring and mundane. I could almost pretend like none of it ever happened, and now that I’m back standing in my bedroom, it feels like it never did. It’s like I dreamed the entire thing.

The only evidence I have that it was real is the slight tingling of my lips and the lingering taste of him on my tongue.

“I need to get out of these clothes.” I run my hands over my face as I let out a breath.

While the shower warms up, filling the bathroom with steam, I slip out of my blouse and skirt and toss them both straight in the trash.

I don’t want any physical reminders of my time in that motel, except for maybe the memory of being carried in his arms?—

“Enough, Elle.”

I step into the shower, moaning as the scalding hot water cascades over my back and loosens up the tense muscles in my shoulders. I quickly reach for my body wash and use almost half the bottle as I lather up my skin, washing away the nightmare of the kidnapping.

When my hands move over my neck and chest, I pause.

Something’s wrong.

My loofa falls from my hand as my fingers trail over the bare skin of my neck where my necklace usually sits.

“Oh, no, no, no ,” I groan as I glance around the floor of the shower, anxiously searching for my necklace and coming up short.

The pendant is too big to have fallen down the drain, which means it could be anywhere, including that very motel room.

“Oh, god,” I sob as I think of it being lost forever. It once belonged to my mother, and I’ve worn it every day since she gave it to me when I turned eight years old. It was the only possession I had on me when I was pulled out of the fire, so it’s all I have left to remember her.

Or was…

With a heavy heart, I turn off the water and climb out of the shower.

My body and mind are so exhausted that I know it would be useless trying to search for my necklace right now. So, as I get ready for bed, I vow to look for it tomorrow and hope that it turns up.

Because the thought of it being lost forever has my heart breaking in two.

Despite the exhaustion, I barely sleep. Every time I close my eyes, I’m hit with a wave of panic that leaves me covered in a cold sweat. As I lay in the darkness, I try to remind myself that I’m back home, that I’m safe, but still my heart races as if I’m right back there in that motel room.

It’s naive of me to think that I could pretend like nothing ever happened. Perhaps because being pinned down to a bed and threatened with rape isn’t the worst thing to happen to me.

My therapist tells me not to diminish my feelings by comparing every bad experience to the fire that wiped out my family, but I can’t help it.

When you survive a trauma like that, it toughens you up fast. If I can survive that, then surely, I can survive anything.

By the time the sun comes up, I’m already out the door and walking across the city toward Lucia's place.

The air is bitterly cold, but the sun is shining, so I wrap myself in a long, tan coat with a chunky scarf, hoping that some vitamin D will help make me feel better.

I stop by our favorite coffee shop on the way to her townhouse and pick up two mocha lattes and a black coffee for Mikhail as well as some pastries. I figure it can’t hurt to sweeten up my cousin first with her favorite cherry danish before telling her I was kidnapped.

She’s going to be pissed as hell that I didn’t tell her the moment I got home, but I didn’t want her to worry. She’s been through enough over the past few years, and I hate to feel like a burden.

My pulse races as I knock on the front door.

I tried rehearsing exactly what I was going to say to her on the walk over here, but it all just sounds so ridiculous. Not just the kidnapping incident, but the fact that I have no idea who actually rescued me. It sounds like some bizarre fever dream, and I keep thinking at some point I’m going to wake up to realize that he was never real .

I can’t help but feel disappointed at the thought.

I’m still trying to gather my thoughts when the front door opens, revealing a disheveled looking Lucia. Her hair is piled on top of her head in a messy bun, and she’s wearing a pair of pink satin pajamas.

“Elle.” She squints at me as the sunlight floods her face. “It’s not even seven a.m.”

“I figured you’d be up. Can I come in? I brought coffee.” I hold up the bag with the pastries, and Lucia steps aside.

She takes a coffee from the tray as I walk past before closing the door behind me.

The house is eerily silent, and I glance around as she leads me into the family room where Mikhail is sitting on the enormous couch, fully dressed in a black shirt and pants and drinking an espresso. Even though I’ve known him for a few years now, I don’t find him any less intimidating with his muscular frame and countless tattoos.

“Where’s Vivi?” I eye the toys and books scattered around the floor.

“Still asleep. Little brat was up until three having a party in her crib.”

Mikhail scoffs. “Takes after her mother.”

I stifle a laugh, and Lucia rolls her eyes at her husband.

I take a seat on the couch, setting the coffees and pastries down on the table. “How’s everything with you, Mikhail?”

He shrugs his broad shoulders.

“Same as usual.” He’s never been much of a talker, which is why I think he suits my cousin so well. Lucia is as extroverted as they come, and from what I’ve gathered from Mikhail’s brothers, she’s done wonders at loosening him up.

It makes me curious to know what he was like before he met Lucia .

Lucia plops herself down between me and Mikhail, reaching for a danish. “So, what brings you over so early?”

“I, uh… I need to talk to you about something.” I pick up my coffee cup just so I have something in my hands to stop me from fidgeting.

“I can leave you girls to it.” Mikhail braces his tattooed hands on his thighs.

“Actually, you might want to hear this too.”

Mikhail frowns, and Lucia immediately stiffens.

“Elle, you’re freaking me out.” She takes my hand. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes. But there’s something you should know.”

Mikhail and Lucia are both quiet as I tell them everything that happened over the past few days, from losing my phone at the bar to being rescued and taken to a cabin in the woods.

Lucia’s face slowly drains of color as I talk, but Mikhail remains eerily still, his face a mask of stone as he takes it all in.

My cousin holds my hand. “What the fuck, Elle! Why am I only hearing about this now?”

“Well, I lost my phone…” I mumble.

“Are you okay? I mean, this is… Fuck, I don’t even know what to say.” Lucia’s eyes glisten with tears as she squeezes my hand.

“I’m absolutely fine. Honestly.”

“I swear, if you ever get kidnapped again, I want you to call me the second you escape.”

I can’t help but laugh. “I promise.”

Lucia lets go of my hand before wrapping her arms around me.

My eyes sting as I hug her back.

Lucia has always felt like more of a sister to me than a cousin, and look like sisters too. She’s always been such a huge part of my life, but even more so after I moved here.

Without Lucia, I honestly don’t know where I’d be today.

Eventually, we pull apart, and Lucia discreetly wipes her eyes on the sleeve of her top.

My eyes flick to Mikhail, whose silence I find unnerving.

“Mikhail?”

“The men in the motel…” He runs his hands over his jaw as he stares straight ahead.

“They were taken care of.”

He’s quiet again, and I know he’s running through every tiny detail in his mind to assess the threat. “And they specifically mentioned Lucia by name?”

I look at my cousin’s tear-stained face and nod, my chest tightening as my thoughts drift to Vivi, who sleeps soundly upstairs.

If something were to happen to Lucia…

I don’t ever want Vivi to experience the pain of growing up without a mother, so I will do whatever I can to help keep Lucia safe.

“I never learned what they were after.”

Lucia frowns. “What I want to know is who the hell this mystery guy is. I wonder why he wouldn’t reveal his identity.”

“I asked him multiple times, but he just kept refusing.”

“It’s suspicious, for sure,” Mikhail mutters. “He admitted to following you?”

“Yeah.”

“You need to be careful, Elle. He might have only rescued you to gain your trust, and we can’t be sure of his motives. ”

Lucia looks at Mikhail. “Do you think he’ll come back?”

“It’s a possibility.”

My pulse spikes at the thought. Not that I would ever admit it to Lucia because she would think I was crazy, but I want him to come back.

Despite not knowing what he looks like or even what his name is, the connection I felt with him is undeniable. The kiss we shared confirmed that.

A shiver runs down my spine as I remember how my body came alive at the feeling of his lips on mine.

Mikhail snaps me out of my momentary daydream. “Was there anything distinctive that you remember about him? An accent, perhaps?”

“He, uh…had some scarring on his hands, from what I could tell.”

“I can work with that. Is there anything else?”

“Do you think you could try and get my phone back? I lost it back at the bar.”

“Of course, and I’ll set you up with another one in the meantime. Though I will insist on putting a proper tracking device on it. The location app can be hacked, and I don’t want to take any chances.”

“I appreciate this, Mikhail.”

Mikhail dips his chin and offers me a small smile.

“Anyway, I should go. I’m due at the hospital soon, and it’s going to be a long shift.”

Lucia frowns. “Do you think going to work is a good idea? You’ve just gone through something major, Elle. Surely, you should take a few days off, hang out here with me and Vivi or something.”

“I need to keep myself busy. Sitting at home with nothing to do… It will make me anxious.” I get to my feet .

Mikhail looks at me. “I can have Feliks or Yakov come and keep an eye on you.”

“Really, I’m fine.”

“Elle—” Lucia starts, but I shake my head.

“I don’t need a bodyguard.”

Mikhail nods. “Well, the offer is there. And if you ever feel unsafe, please don’t hesitate to call me.”

“I promise.”

But it’s a lie because the truth is, I feel safer knowing that he is out there, watching over me from the shadows.