4. Anastasia

FOUR

Anastasia

I gnoring the images, I focus on data. Every time I see their little faces attached to bodies that should not in any circumstances be doing the things they are, my insides revolt. The loading page has a picture of a clothed Vanya and Dima, which is easier to handle. They have their masks on and after her rampage it will be a security measure to stop her going on another killing spree. Anger is rational, it’s just. The sick fucks’ actions aren’t.

A deep voice comes from beside me, making me jump and my hand flies to my chest.

“What the fuck is this shit?”

Vitali’s outrage is solely directed at the rows of children’s images and the light reflects off his watery eyes as they slowly move from the screen to me. The rules Dima and Vlad gave me when I started helping them years ago are forgotten at the sight of him, and I try to give him insight without going into detail, or incurring Vlad’s wrath.

“How much do you know about Vanya’s life?”

A lump forms in his throat at the mention of his niece and he manages to choke out one word. “Enough.”

I’m not betraying her confidence when she doesn’t give a shit who knows about her life, and I turn towards him, attempting to be comforting as I lay my hand on his thigh and explain, “It’s like a network: each handler has their own clients and ‘products’. Right now, they’re all fucked because she made a dent by killing them.”

He stares at me, blank and motionless.

“Do you remember TRR? How she was looking for Nina?”

I get a small nod but at least he’s moving, his eyes slowly flick from my face to the screen, and I cup his cheek to get his focus to remain on me as I say, “If I find more information, I’ll be able to get more of the kids out, they won’t have to go to auctions or see anything Vanya did.”

I sound cold, but I have to separate my emotions from the task, or I’ll go crazy.If I don’t, I’ll end up becoming like Vlad who has to torture people to get the images to stop, or Dima who keeps a tally of the children we’ve got away from the sick fucks as a reminder that we’ve achieved something. Unlike them, I can only focus on who’s left since it’s my job to find them.

Vitali looks at me as though I’ve grown three extra heads, and his eyes slowly track around the room. He pauses, seeing the phone connected to my laptop and his voice hardens with accusation as he asks, “How did you get that?”

I go back to the geotags without answering him. If they were dumb, I can get every location and this shit will be over. It’s naive to think it, there are hundreds of images and I know the videos show the children getting younger each year, but I can’t do nothing.

Tali holds my shoulder accompanied with a hard reprimanding tone. “Anastasia, where the fuck did you get it?”

He leans over me and grabs the phone, careful not to disconnect as he inspects it for any proof of the owner. I’m not telling him the truth when I already have to deal with Vlad and Dima’s disapproval over my methods. They don’t realize that child fuckers are clearly not interested in me at my adult age and looks. Being a socialite gets me in the parties. Being a drunk and high socialite gets me in their bedrooms.

The annoying idiot beside me drops his voice and says my full name with authority. I’ve never seen this side to the usually playful Vitali, he’s normally like a little puppy: always wagging his tail and asking for belly rubs. I don’t know why I respond to it, but I do, and my voice comes out small, hoping he doesn’t judge me.

“I pretended to pass out.”

This time .

Usually, I just giggle and walk into them but Brodie was too alert and he kept looking at the rapey fuckers on his table when I stumbled. He’s not high up enough in the chain for me to face any consequences and my identity was hidden, but it’s his own fault for leaving the room to invite his little predator buddies to ‘join in the fun’ like he said.

There’s a split second of calm before the raging storm and Tali’s voice booms, vibrating off the walls and shaking the screens.

“Fuck no. You do not put yourself in fucking danger.”

If he didn’t curse I could imagine it was someone else speaking. It’s like a switch has gone off and I’ve been transported to a world I don’t know as he jumps up, ignoring the pain in his knee. He doesn’t break anything or punch a wall, he paces, which is somehow worse because he’s trying to calm himself down.

When it doesn’t work, he stomps over to me and pulls me up with his hands wrapped around my biceps. The authority in his tone is making me react how I definitely shouldn’t in this room.

“You will never fucking do that shit again, am I understood, Anastasia?”

No one ever says my full name; it’s been Stasi since I was three years old and I’m definitely going to do whatever the fuck I want. Seeing my defiance, he jolts my body and growls my name as he grits, “Anastasia, do you understand?.”

I like that, the way he says my name and how commanding he is.

All this shit is fucking with my head.

I can’t focus on any pleasure I derive from him and cross my arms over my chest to strengthen my voice as I refuse. “You don’t come into my house, uninvited, and tell me what to do. You can sit down and shut up like a good boy or leave.”

He straightens, dropping his hold on my biceps as he looks me up and down and lets out a deep breath. I naively think I’ve won. Until the word turns gray due to my t-shirt covering my face. My toes hurt at the impact of his stupid shins as I kick out at him, and he comes into view for a split second before I’m turned around. He’s a psycho and ties my wrists together with the material and I’m spitting murder.

“Untie me, you prick.”

My foot hits air as I kick back and then I’m tilted as he hauls me over his shoulder.Digging my knee into his stomach doesn’t deter him and I don’t know what the fuck his problem is, but he doesn’t slow down despite my wriggling. He grabs my ankles together in one hand, stopping my knees from hitting into his ribs, leaving me with one weapon — my head. The impact of my forehead on his back does fuck all as I lose my carefully crafted unaffected voice and seethe, “Vitali! Put me down!”

He does what I said as we go into the bathroom and pushes me into the shower.My hands are literally tied behind my back as he stands at the open end of the shower, and I make it half a step when his deadly voice bounces off the tile.

“Are you going to do that shit again?”

Squaring my shoulders, I tilt my chin up and spit out, “Fuck. You.”

It ends in a screech as ice-cold water rains down against my body. I bring my shoulders up and hug the glass partition to escape the water, but it shuts off before my hair is fully drenched.

He clenches his jaw and shakes his head. “Wrong answer, sweetness.”

The cunt is literally torturing me and my teeth chatter, goosebumps dot my skin, and I don’t answer as I mentally prepare myself for the icy water.He changes tactics and hot water splashes against my cold skin; it’s not scorching, but the difference in temperature has me flinching away as I try to escape and nearly slip. There’s only one way to leave the shower unless I manage to break the glass and Tali is fucking blocking it. He presses one hand against the center of my chest to keep me in place, lightly pushing me back so I’m fully under the spray.

I should have bought a place with a bigger shower.

Once I’ve warmed, he turns off the large overhead spray and asks the same question, deeper and slower this time.

“Will you put yourself in danger again, Anastasia?”

Why does he sound so grown up? And, more importantly, why does it make him so much more attractive?

I’ve got hypothermia and it’s interfering with my cognitive abilities, the playful puppy is the real Vitali, and I shake away my stupid libido. Water drips off my lashes as I shiver in front of him and manage to strengthen my voice to argue with his idiotic man-logic.

“Fuck you, Vartanov, I wasn’t in danger.”

His entire body flexes and he takes a step closer, trying to prove I’m a liar as he nods to himself, “No danger. Okay.”

Everything about him darkens on the next step.

“Did you go into a room with a fucking rapist?” He snarls the last word and grows taller, wider, with anger. My feet move back as he advances and continues, “Where anything could have fucking happened to you?!”

My shoulders touch the tile and I try to press my body against it to create distance.

“You’re going to fucking listen to me or I’ll leave you hogtied right fucking here until you agree.” Flattening his palms beside my head, he leans into me until our noses are nearly touching. “Now, you have one chance to give me the right fucking answer.”

I’ve never fought other than the times we go into the safe houses and I have a weapon then, but there’s something inside me, a fight I’ve never possessed when I usually slip out of the way as the ditzy idiot who’s not worth anything.

I throw my head forward and my temple throbs as it connects with his jaw. I have to squeeze my eyes shut to stop the dizziness and his smug face is in front of me as I slowly open them. He takes half a step forward, flicking his fingers towards my restrained arms.

“You want to prove you’re tough or some shit? Get out of that and we’ll compromise.”

Dickhead.

I’ve been through this shit with Dima in case I’m caught is more advanced than a fucking T-shirt wrapped around my wrists.So, I don’t look away from Vitali’s eyes as I press my shoulders to the tile and inelegantly squat down to step through the loop he’s made. The saturated fabric works in my favor, allowing me to stretch it, but he’s knotted it. It was my favorite T-shirt, asshole. Once my hands are in front of me I bring them up to my teeth and straighten.

The knot has barely grazed my lip when it’s pulled up above my head and he pins my hands against the wall, causing Vitali’s wet, hard body to press into me. My body has a Pavlovian reaction to his and it intensifies as he kicks my ankles apart. Rough calloused fingers trace my side, bringing goosebumps in their wake as he does the same with his lips on the opposite side of my jaw.

“One fucking finger.” The bite in his voice isn’t a threat and my thrashing is pointless when this is becoming my favorite version of him. “And I’ve got you restrained, able to do anything I want to you.”

I’m not going to be against opponents who fight for a living. They sell children and have guards, they’re soft and protected, not trained killers. I force the drunk act, hating that I’m doing it in front of him, as I giggle, my voice coming out high pitched and I bat my lashes for extra emphasis.

“Oh, anything ? Do I get to do anything to you too, baby?”

People see what they want to, no one looks deeper for the actual meaning and the kid fuckers will manipulate a conversation to fit the narrative in their head.

But Vitali doesn’t and he grabs my throat, pushing me flat against the wall, his lip curling in disgust and the emotion settles into his voice.

“Don’t pull that fucking shit with me.”

Rolling my eyes, I become myself, wriggling my shoulders to get comfortable and ask, “Can you get the fuck off me now?”

I have a job to do, and I’d rather not stand here all night naked and wet in more ways than one.

He’s still pissed but shuts his mouth and unties my hands. He gives me enough space to walk around him as he turns his shoulders, and the idiot slaps my ass when I pass him. The playful puppy is back, and I want to get a ball to see if he’s any good at fetch.

I swipe his T-shirt from the hallway floor to replace the one he’s ruined and go back to my cave.It’s not set up as a normal office and there’s not a single piece of furniture in the room. I can’t sit comfortably while watching reams of evidence of true sin flash before my eyes. I’m nice enough to send the information to Vlad and Dima in a timed message so they’re not disturbed whilst they’re with their families and begin working on my side project.

Pedophiles aren’t monopolized by one identifiable trait. It’s something deeper within them and there are fuckers in the Bratva who carry the same deformity, passing it off as a preference when they ogle the younger girls around the Vory.The ones who are known are marked as untouchable, dirty creatures that can’t be trusted with forced tattoos on their hands or back depending on the depth of their crimes, so I have to wipe the slate clean with the rest of society.

I’m loading the fake profiles when the puppy comes back into the room and scratches his stomach. My lips move automatically at the sight of him and it’s an unfamiliar comfort having someone beside me as I do this. I should buy a dog; it could keep me company and it would be more obedient than Vitali as he complains about the contents of my cupboards.

“You don’t have any food, there’s a banana but it’s smaller than my hand and all you have are walnuts. They’re nasty by the way.”

He drops down beside me and noisily kisses my cheek as he picks me up to sit between his thighs, still whining about his stomach.

“You need a snack drawer and cake, yeah, I could go for some cake right now.”

I don’t go into the screens that will have images of the sick predators because I’m an idiot. They’d scare him away and I should do it, send him home with an aversion to being around me, but I like the warmth too much and he buries his face in the crook of my neck to cover his eyes.

“One day I’m going to eat cake directly from your pussy,” he mumbles. “Squirt cream between your lips before I squirt my cream inside you.”

He ends on a choked laugh and I push my elbow into his ribs at the way he’s chosen to word that.

“Your cum is not fucking cream.”

“Hmm, why do you lick your lips then?” he laughs, shaking me in his hold before he says, “It’s actually protein, so you should have more of it since it’s good for you.” He trails the side of his finger against my cheek and whispers, “A good, organic face mask too, let me know when you want me to pamper you.”

“You are not coming on my face.”

“Why? You come on mine, that’s not very fair of you.”

“Okay, I won’t do it again.” I shrug and lean my cheek on his hairline to make sure he can’t see the message thread of the chatroom I enter.

His arms tighten around me and he lightly nips my neck with his teeth as he groans, “What the fuck? I didn’t tell you to stop.”

I’m getting distracted and I’m beginning to like being in this room. It’s wrong and it’s because of Vitali. He has this effect on everyone where he can make them fall in love with life but I can’t allow myself to when I still have days, weeks, months where I fall into the mental pit I was in at fourteen and the edge is enticing. So, I stop it, I refuse to be a witness to his carefree joy, and I stop fucking hugging his head like I have any right to him.

“You’ve overstayed your need, Vartanov,” I say coldly, hating every single fucking letter that I use to push him away.

He freezes, as always when I’m forced to be a bitch, and his jaw pulses against my shoulder.

“One day you’re going to let someone in, Stasi, I hope it’s me you choose.” He takes a deep breath then softly kisses my neck. “But today isn’t that day.”

I don’t move or look at him as he unwraps his arms from my waist and stands. His back is tense, so are his thighs, as he walks out of my desolate office and quietly leaves.

There’s something wrong with me because I stare at the wall waiting for him to come back. I know this is better; chosen loneliness is something I have control of, but I still watch the fucking wall.