23. Ana

TWENTY-THREE

Ana

I can't take my eyes off the forest we're passing, all the trees are thickly packed, and the sky is just lightening, waiting for dawn. My contacts don't dull how amazing it is.

A hand lands on my forearm as I push my head out of the window searching for the moon. It's not heavy, Dima is gentle as he holds my arm in case I fall out, he looks like a distinguished gentleman in his suit without the tattoos showing. The ones on his hands are coming into view with the gloves having rubbed the makeup away.

He strokes down my arm, loosely circling my wrist and I pull my head in seeing him take a turn that's not planned. We're going through a cut into the forest, the trees are so close I could put my hand out of the window to touch them. In my head this is where B is, she's away from people and no one can ever find her. Especially Yulia.

The first rays poke through the branches and it's peaceful hearing the birds sing. There must be hundreds of them all living at the top of the trees, no cages, or locked doors to keep them from flying away. His hand tightens as I twist my body so my neck is resting on the door so I can look up. The sky has always been the only thing that kept me company, a little window to other worlds and possibilities. Yulia could lock me away, but she couldn't take that from me.

I get comfortable on the seat as I fold my legs so my feet are touching my ass and my body isn't contorted. He lets go of my wrist and holds my ankles, pulling them over the center console so they're resting on his thighs. The sound of fabric rustling doesn't distract me from the freeing feeling, yet he always has to interrupt me and taps my knee.

"Put this under your neck."

Looking across the car at his voice, he holds his jacket out to me. It's rolled up into a soft log and I do what he says so I don't have any more distractions.

Every time I kill someone I get peace, my mind goes blank, and the filing cabinets don't open, I wonder if it's the Grim Reaper keeping them shut. The filing cabinets being closed means I have thoughts of what if or none at all. The what ifs are only a whisper and it's the same one as always.

I'm already dead so the world has forgotten about me. I'm a ghost, an unclaimed soul, but it gets fainter as soothing circles are made against my ankle. I don't want to go blank and talk, hoping it brings out a conversation in my head.

"Is it bad if I don't feel guilty about killing people?"

I don't care about their lives, if you rape and molest children you shouldn't be classed as a person. No, it isn't bad.The same thought that was in my head is mimicked in Dima's voice.

"No, you're stopping them from doing worse."

He pulls over when we can't drive any further and holds my ankles. I want to tell him about B, so someone knows she exists other than me. Blindly reaching into the front pocket of my bag, I pull out the torn blanket, it's not big enough to cover anything but it's the only thing I have to prove she was real.

I can't give it to him and hold it in my hand under the seat as I whisper up to the sky. "I think my mother named me."

No one called me by a name when I was at Yulia's until a client asked. I don't know who said Ana, but I stuck with it knowing B was dead. If Marlo is my dad then the B can't stand for Belov, it's my name.

His volume matches mine and he turns to face me.

"What's your real name, lisichka?"

I shrug and sigh, wishing I knew. I don't know where I was born or what nationality my mother is, it could be anything, but I answer with the only letter I have.

"B?"

Pushing all those thoughts away, I sit up and put the torn blanket back in my bag. I want to go outside and sit in the middle of the trees.

I only make it to the front of the car before Dima follows me. Picking me up by the back of my thighs, he stares straight ahead, and his voice goes back to its usual roughness.

"I don't want you to fall."

There are only twigs and leaves on the floor, some thick roots are sticking up but not enough to do any damage. Idiot. I don't tell him that and hold his shoulders so I can lean back and float like a bird. He slows his steps and supports my weight with one arm under my back, his other hand cupping the back of my head, as we go deeper through the trees.

Reaching a clearing with a picnic bench, he lays me against the wood and leans over me. I've never seen eyes so soft as Dima slowly comes into view, he holds my chin between the knuckles of his first two fingers as he traces my features. I feel safe with him, he said he won't hurt me, and I believe him.

"You don't even know what you're doing to me," he breathes out as he moves up my face and presses his lips to my forehead.

His gun brushes against the back of my thigh with the movement.Who needs a gun in the middle of a forest? He could have left it in the car. When he moves back I realize it isn't his gun, the part of his body touching me wasn't his hip. I thought he had a small dick and look down seeing a bulge at the front of his trousers. There's no ants, even with the ones I chose there's always been that squirming feeling because I don't want them to touch me at the same time as wanting them to.

Looking back at the sky so I don't get caught staring, I let my body relax as he steps back and lowers on the attached bench so he's looking up at the sky too.

"What you looking for, lisichka?"

I'm looking at everything and nothing, it's all chemicals but they're out of reach so I can make them be whatever I want. Shuffling to the edge so I can see him and not talk to myself, I turn on my side.

I don't realize how close I am until the edge of the wood digs into my hip, and I rock, falling onto a hard body. The action has a grunt leaving his lips and blowing across my cheek as I land on top of him. He wraps his arms around me and chokes, "Second time, hellion."

I have to bite my lip to hide my laugh and he repositions me so I'm straddling his stomach with my head on his shoulder. Looking up, I smile widely knowing the last time I fell on him I ended up kicking him.

"At least I didn't get your dick this time."

He slowly drops his head back, his eyes closed, and a grumble on his lips.My humor slowly fades seeing a scar under his jaw, it's old and his facial hair hides it. Tracing the jagged line with my finger makes me wish I could take it away, he has scars on his knuckles but that's from him using them, this is from someone hurting him. I'll kill them and they won't be able to do it again.

A lump builds in his throat as I ask, "Who did it?"

He doesn't open his eyes as he answers. "My father didn't like anyone coming between his fist and my mother."

It won't be hard to kill someone in prison, they can't go anywhere, but he audibly gulps as I press my lips to the scar. His eyes are still closed, and his chest is barely moving up and down under me. I can see his pulse, so I know he's alive. Without the filing cabinet shouting everything at me, I focus on his features. He always stares at me so it's fair I do it back. There's no twitching or movement as he forces himself to be still, other than his fingers tightening against my hips. He has a symmetrical face apart from his lips, one part of his Cupid's bow is round, but the other is a little bit sharper.

I want him to open his eyes, but he doesn't so I walk my fingers over his face, so it feels like spiders. They stay closed and I press my fingers into the corners of his lips to gently pull them down and deepen my voice.

"I'm Dima and I hate everyone."

His eyes snap open and he grabs my jaw to pull my face closer. Our noses touch and I don't know why I do it other than I want to know how it feels without the ants. Nerves fill me as I close the distance, my eyes are still open, staring into the silver moons when I press my lips against his.

Dima freezes at the contact, it's a split second, his entire body turning rigid until it melts away and he springs up, bringing me with him. His smile touches my lips, and he looks between my eyes with hope.

"Take them out for me."

He's asking for more than just seeing my eyes. His smile gets wider as I take out my contacts and he holds the back of my head and softly kisses my cheek, asking for permission without a question.

"Tell me to stop."

I like it, there are no ants, and his lips are soft. Shaking my head in answer, he stands and lifts me onto the table. His lips dance across my skin until his nose is touching mine. Holding my jaw again, he strokes my bottom lip with his thumb and speaks softly with the same gentleness in his eyes.

"Need your words, or I won't believe you're real, B."

He used my letter.

Dima knows Ana isn't real and he's not looking away from me.I pinch his cheek in answer, and he seals his lips over them, trapping his soft laugh against my lips. He doesn't shove his tongue in my mouth or his hand between my legs, it's a slow kiss with a smile. No ants. But my stomach flutters and they intensify when he threads our fingers together. I lock my feet together at his ass and there's no training in my head as my body moves, it's not remembering patterns but doing what it wants.

He doesn't open up as I flick his bottom lip with my tongue. Annoying idiot. He moves back to stop me biting him and my lips tingle with the soft breeze floating through the small gap. He squeezes my hands as though he's afraid I'm going to disappear and rests his forehead on mine as emotion fills his voice.

"I'm not going to survive you, am I, lisichka?"

I'm not trying to kill him, if I was then he'd definitely die.I've never given anyone the promise before, but it leaves easily.

"I won't kill you."

I don't like the thought of his old hurts, if I had to kill Dima I'd do it painlessly, no guns, knives, violence, or blood — probably pills or an injection while he's asleep.

He doesn't say anything but his eyes light up as though I've given him the biggest compliment and he lifts our joined hands so they're closer to my face, his thumbs stroking against my cheeks as he presses his lips to mine again. He lets me deepen it this time and groans into my mouth as soon as our tongues touch. The vibrations travel through his chest, and he lets go of one of my hands to trace my side. My mind turns back on, feeling my inner thighs get wet, it's the conditioning taking over, and I can't stop it. My moans are loud, they don't sound faked exactly like the training wanted, and he kisses across my jaw to my neck.

I like it but these sounds aren't mine, they don't belong to me.

My back arches, pushing our chests together and I freeze when he pulls away. Does he know it's not real again? That I'm Ana now. Kissing my cheek, he wraps his arms around me, lifting me off the table and his facial hair tickles as he whispers into my ear. "The first time we fuck isn't going to be somewhere anyone can see you."

No, he doesn't know because like Yulia said, I'm perfect at selling the fake image, that's why I was the best teacher, and Dima has bought into the false product.