Heartless #5

Heartless #5

She’s a Virgin and my prisoner. There is only one rule – I’m not allowed to touch her…

Svetlana

I’m his prisoner. Placed in a golden cage. Being this close to Liam allows me to see the man behind the suit, he’s scary as hell but I want him.
I want him to have all of me. I want him to see me, and I hope that he keeps me. I can’t go back, I won’t survive.

Liam

I don’t let people in. I need to keep them out. But then she becomes my prisoner and before long she’s in my bed opening me up slowly and turning my world upside down.

I can’t keep her, she has to go back. But I’m not sure letting her go is possible anymore, even if that means causing a war.

A war that will mark my family for all time.

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My bare feet sink into the lush cream carpet as I pace inside my cage. Blood that dried hours ago still coats my chest. My long brown skirt gathers and swishes around my ankles as I continue to pace the room.

I want out.

I need to get out.

My fists collide with the large white door.

“Open the door now.” My shouts and bangs finally get someone’s attention. I move back quickly as my uncle enters the room. His black mustache is brushed perfectly. The shine from his black hair carries all the way down into his beard.

“Svetlana, you have been causing more problems again.” He wiggles his fingers at me as if I’m five again and I’ve smashed some expensive vase within the house.

Folding my arms across my satin blouse draws my uncle’s attention to my chest. Dropping my hands doesn’t make him look away. That uncomfortable feeling I get around him as I continue to grow and develop skitters across my skin.

“Uncle, please. I just want to get out of this room,” I plead with him, dropping my head slightly in obedience.

“Svetlana.”

I peek up into his open arms, and I have no choice but to walk into them. I hide my revulsion behind the need to get out of here.

“Andel is dead.” His words are meant to make me feel remorseful. But I’m not. Frankly, I’m glad he’s dead.

“He tried to rape me, Uncle,” I remind him as he strokes my hair. Andel had broken into my room and tried to force himself upon me. I was lucky I slept with a gun under my pillow. I was also lucky I knew how to use one.

“You could have shot him in the arm or called for help. Hmm, Svetlana, don’t you think that’s more reasonable than killing him?”

No, I didn’t. He deserved to die.

“If I had called for help, and if someone had heard me, I might have been saved this time, but what about the next?” I’m trying to break free from his hold to see if my words are penetrating his false concern, but I’m pulled back into a hug. Uncle wears too much cologne, the smell burning my receptors. His hands move to my hips, and I tell myself not to react.

“My men want your life.”

Something inside me stills and then shivers. I try to look at my uncle, but he pulls me tighter against his chest until it becomes harder to breathe.

“I hold you now, and I don’t think I can take your life, Svetlana.” He sounds angry.

The air is being cut off from my brain, and I start to struggle against him as he tucks my head deeper into his chest. My lungs scream for air as his words rush my ears.

“I loved you like you were my own daughter.”

My fists grip his leather jacket as I try to push him away from me.

“I love you so much.” He sounds tortured.

My hands turn into fists, and I try with my final bit of energy to hit him on the back. Each slap gets weaker, and I stop fighting him.

Air fills my burning lungs, and a cough rises from the back of my throat. My uncle releases me fully, and I tumble to the floor, unable to hold myself up. Air continues to slowly fill my lungs as I place my hand over my hammering heart. He’s looking down at me, and I hate the look of finality on his face.

“If you had been here…” A cough cuts off my words. “I know I would have called for you.” I try to swallow the next cough that tickles my throat. “You’ve always protected me, and I’m so grateful for that.”

I crawl to his legs and hug them. Self-preservation has fully kicked in, overriding the scorch of embarrassment. When my uncle doesn’t answer me, I look up at him, still clinging to his legs. “I’m sorry, Uncle,” I say and tears burn the back of my eyes as I watch the conflict play out across his features.

I swallow my tears of hope as he kneels down, making me release his legs. His eyes quickly travel to my chest, which rises and falls rapidly. Hands I don’t recoil from stroke my face.

“When your father asked me to keep you safe, I was so honored.”

I nod now, trying to calm my frantic mind as it screams at me, he just tried to kill me. But I choke down that thought.

“You have always been my pride and joy. The heir to your father’s throne. The one I keep warm for you, Svetlana.”

“I don’t want it.” I repeat the same words I’ve used since I was a child. I want none of it. I just want to be a normal college student. Not the daughter of the most notorious gangster in the Czech.

My uncle’s hand leaves my cheek and trails down to my neck. “Your beauty stills my heart, Svetlana.”

I drop my eyes and focus on the floor to try to stop the shiver that wants to overtake me at his touch. I have no religion. I was never baptized, but I believe in God—He kept my uncle’s hands off me this whole time. I pray once again that He will help me.

“Thank you, Uncle,” I whisper and he releases me before standing quickly. I’m rising with him. A panic in me has me standing and gripping his hands in fear that I’ve lost his favor. I’m tempted to kiss him just to stay alive, knowing that’s what he’s desired since the moment I started to grow curves.

I can’t.

“I will have to think about what happens next.”

My heart gallops around in my chest. “Can I use the bathroom?” I ask as tears burn my eyes.

“Of course, Svetlana. We aren’t animals.”

I force a shaky smile. “I know.”

He smiles while rolling his eyes. He widens his arm for me to leave the room and use the toilet. I’m across the hall in a few strides.

I close the bathroom door behind me and clamp my hands across my mouth, trying to keep in the screams that claw at my chest. My hand trembles as I lock the door and race across the bathroom to the window. I’m only two floors up. I could jump.

I look out onto the green expanse of grass lying before me. Freedom. All I smell is freedom.

“Svetlana, you okay?” My uncle’s voice penetrates the door.

I try to calm myself by closing my eyes. “Yes, Uncle. Just a minute,” I say and don’t waste another second.

I jump out the window. I land on my bare feet, bent at the knees. I don’t rejoice that nothing feels broken; instead, I tear across the meadow, the grass soon growing longer, brushing my shoulders, and I start to slow down.

I have no idea where I can go. I’m recognized everywhere. Cutting my long black hair won’t hide my identity. My face is too recognizable amongst my father’s people—now my people.

“Svetlana!” My uncle’s roar lights a fire under me, and I’m pushing my body harder.

I can hear the buzz of the Jeeps. It sounds like they’re coming from all sides, but I don’t stop to listen. I keep pushing aside the long grass until I burst out into a field that’s recently had the grass burnt. I curse as three Jeeps appear from all sides. Running back into the grass crosses my mind, but then my uncle’s voice carries across it. Whistles are blown, alerting everyone that I’ve been found.

Sinking to my knees, I cover my head with my hands and wait for my uncle to arrive. In my cocoon of darkness, I try to draw strength from my mother’s voice. Her soft singing soothes my aching heart.

She bought me a mirror on my tenth birthday. It covered a large portion of my wall. It was the same one from the movie Snow White.

“Mirror, Mirror on the wall, who’s the fairest of them all?” my mother would question while standing behind me, her hands on my shoulders. The mirror would shimmer, and an image would appear of just me.

My mother would clap her hands. “You are the fairest of them all,” she would whisper in my ear.

But as I grew up, the image still remained the same, the magic of it soon lost to me.

“Svetlana.” My uncle’s voice pulls me from the memory. He grips my forearms, and I look up into his face.

“I had a flashback,” I say quickly and his wrath eases off slightly. “I thought it was Andel banging on the door.”

Confusion takes over his features. “You are lying!” It’s said with anger.

I shake my head. “No. No. I got confused. I thought he was going to hurt me.” Tears fall from my eyes as I confess the lie. The tears are real. He’s going to kill me if I don’t convince him not to. “I panicked. But when I heard your voice, I stopped running and sat here, waiting for you to save me.”

I’m clinging to him, pleading with him to believe me. He looks at the men, who stand up in the open roofs of the Jeeps.

“She did stop and sit,” one of them says, and his face will be forever embedded in my memory. I will owe him my life because his words save my life.

My Uncle drags me to my feet, still angry, but his anger isn’t as lethal as I’ve seen it before. I have only ever tried to run once before, when I was fourteen, and it was my last attempt until today. I learned that there were far worse things than dying. I prayed for death, but it never came. All I have ever done since then is fight to survive. Lie and manipulate until I don’t know who I am anymore.

He opens the passenger door, and I climb in with my head down and my heart bouncing around in my chest. My uncle climbs in, and all the Jeeps roar to life as we return to my parents’ house.

I always felt like a princess, and this, my kingdom. Now it’s my prison. I read the fairy tales about Sleeping Beauty. Once, I had believed that maybe, just maybe, my Prince Charming would come and rescue me from my cruel uncle, but no one ever came. Glancing at my uncle, I’m trying to gauge if I should speak or if my silence would fare better.

I opt for silence. I’m too tired to try to sort through my emotions. Once we reach the house, the idea of being placed back in my room is welcoming.

My uncle grips my arm as we move to the front of the house. Two of his men step aside as we enter. We don’t speak, but fear lodges itself in my throat as we reach the second landing.

Holic is waiting for us. His bleach blond hair is animated against his dark skin, and he has a wide nose and crystal green eyes. He stands out from the rest of us, and not just for his looks. He’s my uncle’s right-hand man. His thirty years on this earth, I’m sure, have been filled with blood, pain, and torture. That’s what he does. He tortures my uncle’s enemies. I’ve only ever been to his room once, and that was when I’d prayed for death.

“Holic, you have weakened at your job.” My uncle’s words cause Holic’s grin to slip. His eyes shoot to me, and I take a step back.

“Svetlana did not learn her lesson the first time.” I’m shaking my head at my Uncle’s words. “She tried to run away again.”

He didn’t believe me when I told him I had run because of Andel. “No, not from you, Uncle. From Andel,” I say.

Sharp blue eyes focus on me. “Ghosts don’t chase people.”

Falling to my knees is the only way I know I will survive. “I swear on my mother’s grave that I wasn’t running from you, Uncle.” Tears splash my joined hands as I beg for his mercy.

He’s kneeling with me, covering my joined hands with his. His eyes roam my face, and he brushes my cheek with a gentleness that has me believing it will be okay.

“I don’t believe you.” He rises, and Holic grabs my arms.

Fighting is useless, but I kick and scream and spit and bite. I scream the whole way to Holic’s room. I stare at the closed door, and I can’t breathe as my top is torn from my body. I scream and scream until time is lost, and at this moment, I fear I am too.

***

“Jan.” I search the house for my golden retriever. “Jan.” I move through the house and enter rooms I have access to.

I slow down at Holic’s door, my body frozen as screams that aren’t happening now fill my ears. It has been weeks, and I’m still recovering. The marks might fade, but the memory never will.

“Jan,” I whisper, allowing myself to step away from the door. The clothes that brushed my back still hurt me, but I didn’t show any pain around my uncle.

A fake but automatic smile stretches across my face as my uncle walks toward me. His smile is full of love and adoration, as if I were his daughter and him a doting father, and not some twisted uncle.

“Have you seen Jan?” I ask sweetly.

“Svetlana, you look like sunshine today.”

I smile shyly. Well, I hope it looks shy; I do practice every day. I grip my long yellow skirt and hold it out. “Thank you, Uncle.”

He pats me on the hand. “Jan is down in the kitchen.”

I widen my smile as I skip past him. The minute he passes me, I drop the smile and make my way to the kitchen.

I stop at the door.

“You want some more?” Holic’s voice skitters across my damaged back, like nails digging into my wounds.

My feet want me to step away, but Jan is in there with that monster. Now I wonder if my uncle sent me to the kitchen with the knowledge that Holic was here.

“Jan,” I call, and he comes to my side.

Holic’s eyes rise from the bacon in his hand. Crystal blue eyes focus on me. “Svetlana. Nice to see you.”

I swallow the growing saliva that pools in my mouth. I’m not stupid enough to anger him, but I’m not strong enough to speak. I nod and leave the kitchen with Jan.

“You know to not talk to strangers,” I scold him the moment we enter my room. Rubbing him behind the ear, I kick off my shoes and sink to the floor.

“You’re a good boy,” I say while planting kisses on his head. Jan lays his head in my lap, and I let my fingers run through his coat as I stare at the door. I’m wondering when it will open and who it will be. What is my fate here?