8. Dima

EIGHT

Dima

I 'm not going to be able to sleep for a year, this shit goes beyond anything I've ever witnessed before. The prick moves onto the next color and the distorted voice doesn't hide their excitement as they announce the red band. I've tortured people, ripped out their nails and teeth, seen one pedophile's ball pop when Vlad was experimenting with a nail gun. But this shit isn't done with anger, the people fucking while they watch some kid get hacked to pieces are more fucked than any psycho I've ever encountered.

I focus on how calm Ana is as I stroke down her back. It's deadly not relaxed, but it stops my heart racing as I feel her easy beats against her spine. The bones sticking out of her skin don't relax me though, she's too fucking fragile. Not breakable, or delicate. Fragile like an explosive ready to demolish everything including herself. There's no overpowering perfume as she leans into me, away from the screen, and the next victim of the red banding comes out. She smells like fresh air after a life of pollutants. It's weird as fuck and doesn't make sense, but that's the only thing that fits.

The fabric ripples under my palm and I make a mental note to add more protein into her diet. The dress is the smallest size they had, and she was eating in the hospital so she should be healthy soon, especially since she was acting as though it was a gourmet meal, not slop. She didn't even complain about the scratchy sheets that rustled like paper every time she moved.

My eyelids droop, fighting to fully shut as the pained screams ring out and her harsh whisper has them snapping open.

"Don't be weak, they're living it."

She tenses as I lift her hair off her shoulder. Every time I touch her hair she has the same reaction. It's falling out like fuck, there's a little hair ball collecting on the floor and the ends keep snapping. But she's protective of it and I move my hand to her back.

My tongue itches to move, to apologize for grabbing her head when she forced me to react. I'm zoned out, refusing to be an active audience to all the filth in front of me when it finally stops, and the screen goes dark. There's not enough energy for me to move. All that fucking sickness has dragged it out of me, and I don't let Ana go. She's not depleted like I am and lifts the mask off her face once she's disconnected everything to prevent a reverse trace. The bruising is still there, all the deep colors slowly fading but the swelling has gone down.

She fidgets, digging her bony ass into my thigh and slowly asks, "Do you need a hug or something?"

There's fear pulling down her features as though the thought of a hug is equivalent to being wrapped in snakes. Loosening my hold so she can leave, I sit there staring at the darkened screen. How the fuck am I supposed to stand after witnessing that shit? I know it's out there, it's not the same as the chats. That's wishes and wants, words I can convince myself aren't going to come to fruition because I'll stop them.

Slowly turning side to side as Ana slides off my thigh, I'm still blank. Until the hellion pulls the dress over her head, not giving a fuck that I'm sat here. I turn so I don't see anything I'm not supposed to, and she doesn't acknowledge the fact she's stripping off in front of me. It's not to entice me and my dick doesn't move but it feels predatory after what we've seen. I feel dirty just for watching it all.

The world is silent, and I'm pulled into the noise when a pillow is dumped into my lap and Ana is stood in front of me. Her voice is childlike, soft, and gentle.

"It used to make me feel better when I'd get confused." Turning back into the asshole she is, she shrugs and starts going through my shit. "But I was four so who knows."

She keeps fucking with my head and saying heartbreaking shit with no emotion. She doesn't even act traumatized or impacted by any of it, there's a heavy tone of acceptance with every part of her life. As though it was all predetermined and it was never meant to be anything but what it is.

Choosing not to hug a pillow like a heartbroken teenager hiding away in my room, I stand up and guide the hellion with me before she can break anything. She doesn't argue and she hasn't put her boots back on. Her jeans are tucked into her socks, and she shuffles her feet when we reach the kitchen so she's gliding along the tile. Her lips move as she begins talking to herself and there's still no argument as I sit her at the island.

I look at the fridge, waiting for something to magically appear. The thought of cooking is too heavy a task, I fucking hated doing that shit for Katya when we moved out from the Vartanovs. Their fridge was magic and would be filled with preprepared meals every day. Even now it's the same and I decide against going there to ransack their food.

Takeout will do, it's good enough and I won't have to spend more time around the hellion who is still talking to herself. I can't hear the words, just the soft meeting of her lips. It stops abruptly when I turn and drop the takeout menus in front of a confused Ana and wait for her to pick something. She's annoying as fuck and slides them back to me.

"You haven't eaten since you left the hospital," I say and move them in front of her.

It should be explanation enough, but she gets more confused and slowly picks each one up. I'm sure she can read. I've messaged her instructions, and she's followed them. Fuck, obviously brothel training doesn't include reading and writing.

Standing behind her, I try to soften my voice and read it out over her shoulder. She pauses, then slams the menu down and slowly turns her head to look at me. Narrowing her bruised eyes at me, she drops her voice in threat as she asks, "Do you think I'm illiterate?"

How the fuck am I supposed to know what pimps teach children they're grooming? It makes sense they wouldn't want them to read signs and shit.The hellion gets a stick up her ass and lists things to disprove what I haven't voiced.

"I can read four languages, speak five. Play the piano, violin, and harmonica. The clients would teach me things. Just because I didn't go to a fancy school like you doesn't mean I don't fucking know things."

I'm not focused on anything other than the clients taught her things. Fucking clients, like she was working on business proposals not people negotiating fucking kids.

The hidden parts of Ana are all childish, she has a dorky laugh and snorts, replaying a memory.

"One time I stole chill powder and disinfectant then put it in the guard's lube, his face was funny as fuck when he started jacking off and I nearly slipped from trying not to laugh."

Ending on a sigh, she shakes her head and focuses back on the menus. I want her to laugh again, even if it's at something brutal and try to force more.

"Why did you slip?"

I instantly regret it and there's no reaction or snort again but her lips twitch.

"They were allowed to watch me shower and that one always used to stand there with his dick out while telling me everything he was going to do. Who doesn't see red powder in clear liquid? Fucking idiot, I was more intelligent than him and I was only six that day."

I take a step back and create an extra barrier by stuffing my hands in my pockets to stop them reaching for her. Flipping the Chinese takeout menu over, she sets the others down in a neat pile and holds it over her shoulder.

"I've never had it before, you can pick whatever's good."

There has never been more importance in placing an order than right now. She should have some normal experiences, so I order one of everything so she can find her favorite meal. Katya has her comforts since Tali forced her to choose a comfort meal when they were teenagers.

I don't leave Ana's space while we wait, and I have a sinking suspicion that the hellion is going to take over more than my house. The more I'm around her when she's not covered in blood, the more I understand why Inessa, Katya, and Stasya have taken her under their protection.

I want to ask if the fucker who was watching a child shower is dead but she's a psycho, one of the original demons to be let loose on the planet, so I know he is. Threats feel more natural and force her to stay here with me, so I allow that to leave rather than a demand to know her.

"If you try running away again, I'll tell Tali and Inessa."

They're both the most protective over her and they'll lock her ass up to make sure she's safe. Stasya doesn't care about anyone enough to go beyond the offer of giving up her guest room and Katya isn't forceful by nature with anyone other than me because she's spoilt rotten and gets away with everything. The other two are stubborn and loyal, the worst combination for the hellion to go up against.

A loud thump wakes me, and i sit up on alert. It comes again, jolting my door, followed by Ana's hysterical shouting, "Dima, wake up."

I jump up because the psycho should be knocked out after eating two times her body weight in noodles. There's nothing other than her special mix of erratic, psychotic anger and excitement stood opposite me as soon as I open the door.She holds her hand out, clapping her fingers against her palm with her words rushing together.

"Keys, found Nina."

We've done this shit before, went to a warehouse that's empty and stale showing no one has been in it. It's been over a year of chasing a ghost ever since she popped up. Every time she'll rage, then go on a little killing spree as soon as the fights are arranged.

Knowing the hellion will crawl over broken glass if I don't give in, I hold my hand up to stop her talking and sleep deepens my voice.

"Five minutes."

I can't get any fucking peace; she hasn't even been here twelve hours and I'm subjected to horrific shit and being disturbed at three in the fucking morning.

I quickly throw on anything that looks black, so her outburst won't ruin my clothes or get us pulled over. She's still waiting at the door like an obedient puppy from hell once I'm dressed. Part of me softens without my approval seeing her look close to happy as she gives me the address in Maryland. My stomach when I notice it's a residential area. The place won't draw attention from police considering it's full of drug dens and everyone steers clear of the area, but Ana doesn't know that if her friend or sister is there it's going to be worse than she's imagined.

But she's excited and she runs ahead of me as though she's going on a trip as we go to the car. She doesn't do her creepy meditation as I drive, she just sits there with energy radiating off her and tugs on her hat, so it covers her ears and tucks her hair into it. I'm still half asleep and it makes my voice rougher as we drive through the darkness.

"What are you going to do when you find her?"

Sparing a glance from the road, I watch her shrug and her voice comes out small as we pass a wooded area. "I haven't thought about it."

She leans her forehead on the glass, staring into the trees lining the side of the road. The childish parts of her personality come out and her smile is muted in the dark reflection.

"Trees."

It's said on a breath filled with wonder like she's never seen them before. So I ask, "Do you like nature?" She shakes her head.

"Just trees?" She nods.

It seems to be the end of the conversation and I don't notice that I've slowed down until a truck passes us. She remains in place, her nose pressed to the window until we pass the woodland area, and she sighs sitting back in her seat. The conversation restarts but it's with herself.

"She's real." Her voice is quieter on the next part as each fractured part of her personality talks to the other pieces. "Yeah, she has to be, I remember her."

Her anger comes in waves, filling the car, and I reach over the center console to hold her wrist. She remembers she's not alone and blinks freakishly as she turns her head to look at me.

"Why are you helping me?"

There's an accusation underlining her question and I don't have an answer. So, I make one up.

"It's easier for me to help you or you'll probably steal my car."

There's no movement as she assesses me. It takes too long and then the snort/laugh breaks the silence as she agrees.

"Yeah I would."

I'd give anything to go back to silence when she recounts her horrifying childhood with humor.

"You know the first time I drove a car I tried to get the client to stand outside but I think he knew I was going to run him over so he wouldn't do it. His car was better though, it had massage seats and that's when I learnt that the cigarette lighters are really good at burning a dick."

It ends in a snicker and my fingers tighten around her wrist as my jaw tenses. She roughly pushes my hand off her and her voice hardens, losing all humor.

"Don't do that. It's rude." Crossing her arms over her chest, she adds, "Stop the car, I'll walk."

She's crazy, I know she's crazy, but for some reason I keep expecting her to make sane choices.

"Calm down, you're not walking, and I didn't do anything."

I'm going to get smacked in the face, again. She does it to everyone, so I lean to the side, anticipating her hand moving. But she's grinding her teeth and those blank eyes are firmly fixed ahead.

Fuck, is she sad?

I don't know what normal human emotions would look like on her features and soften my voice. "What did I do?"

It will be something small like say a word in a particular manner. She snaps her head towards me and it's definitely sadness clinging to her. Well, underneath the anger.

"Don't pity me. I'm not dumb, I know my life is weird and I'm weird, but to me it's normal because I didn't have anything else. If I don't know those things then I don't have anything. So do not fucking pity me when I know things." Her fists are tightly clenched on her knees and she's restraining herself from her first reaction which is to lash out at everyone. Instead, she uses her words and breaks my fucking heart. "If all I know are horrible things that you think are disgusting or sad, that doesn't mean it's like that to me. To you it's sad, to me it's my life. If I'm not allowed to talk about my life, then no one else should be able to."

Maybe she is human after all. Her logic is sound, and I nod, letting her know we all have weird shit in our lives.

"I don't pity you. We all do what we need to in order to survive. My life is probably weird to you."

She relaxes instantly and stops tensing as she drops her head back, going into her creepy meditation.

There's no sound from her the rest of the drive. She remains in the uncomfortable position with her crown touching the headrest despite the rising sun filtering through her eyelids. They don't open until we pull up outside a house that's barely holding it together. The ball of rage looks at it like it's a mansion. Thankfully there's no one on the street for her to turn her wrath on and she walks with hurried purpose. For someone so fucking small she's got speed and I have to quicken my pace to keep up.

I'm on her heels as she pushes through doors of the house-turned-apartment without a care in the fucking world to the people behind them not being in the right frame of mind. Every single time she does this shit, barges in without a single fuck for the danger that could be lurking. Her face is still bruised, the soreness will be lingering in her body, but it doesn't slow Ana down.

There are used needles and condoms stuck to the stairs. Empty baggies and wraps that held their means for survival and she ignores it all to take them two at a time. The first room Ana enters is met with a groaned curse.

"Fuck off, we'll pay you tomorrow."

She doesn't respond and her face is set in hard lines as those freakish eyes scan each corner. The groaning gets louder as she storms through the room, rips the thin curtains back and the screech adds to the sound of her boots thudding against the worn floor before she leaves to do the same to the next room.

Each room is checked with the same military precision, and she checks the full floor before bolting up the stairs again. When we reach the second-to-last door it changes, and her scan slows. There's a woman laid across a stained mattress, other bodies are dotted around the room. Some are laid with needles in their arms that have been recycled, one has vomit on his t-shirt, but his chest is moving. Poor bastard, he wanted to die. They all chase death not a high.It's the first thing I learnt when I left home, and I made the mistake of trying to help someone choking on their own vomit. When he woke up and found out how close he was to death he sobbed, it was the first time I'd seen a grown man cry, and it was the moment I found out that death can be a mercy of its own.

Ana is fully focused on the woman laid on her side. There's only one arm in view and she's not gentle about flipping her onto her back and pulling her sleeve up to reveal her hands. Or hand because there's nothing below her elbow on her right arm.

The hellion straightens up and her leg cocks back, making me move forward and wrap my arm around her waist to pull her away. I'm a lot of things but I'm not going to let her beat the shit out of someone who's fucking unconscious.

She twists, not wincing at the pain in her ribs where my arms will be digging into her bruises as I carry her out of the room.

"Calm the fuck down." Continuing to rage to herself, my shin takes the brunt force of her boots kicking back at me and she keeps repeating the same thing.

"I said her left arm, that wasn't her left fucking arm."

Holding her tighter so her feet don't trail on the floor, I rest my cheek on her hair. The girl she's searching for is dead, everyone knows it, but she refuses to accept anything other than her being alive.Setting her down on her feet once we're outside of the drug den, I hold her shoulders and try to be comforting with a lie.

"You'll find her."

In a shallow grave if you're lucky .

She doesn't relax and pushes away from me to sit in the car and slams the door on her way. What in the ever living fuck has my life become? And why do I hope Nina, a woman I've never met before and who would find mercy in death, is alive?