“You’re finally home,” he murmured between kisses to her cheek, her mouth, and her throat as I lay there, gurgling, thrashing, crying.

Help! I screamed in my head. Adrian, help me!

He didn’t.

All of his attention was on Lia, on her face, her cheeks, her throat, her mouth. She looked at me, though. Her eyes met my identical ones, and she smirked as she hugged Adrian back and mouthed, “Mine.”

That’s when I died.

But then I was shoved into another nightmare, where a man wrapped his hand around mine and forced me to pull the trigger. Blood covered my skin as I shrieked at the top of my lungs.

Then it was over.

Jeremy was the one trying to wake me, standing by my bed, holding one of his toy soldiers. He jerked back when I startled into a sitting position.

He’s now standing near the dresser, his face pale and his lips trembling. “Are you a ghost, Mommy?”

My breathing immediately calms and a different type of worry takes over me. Jeremy seems like he’s scared of me and that hurts more than I like to admit.

I extend a hand toward him. “I’m so sorry, Jer. Mommy just had a nightmare. It’s over now.”

“Really?” he doesn’t seem convinced, even as he stares at my hand.

“Really.”

“You’re not gonna be Ghost Mommy?”

“Of course not, my angel.”

He cautiously takes a step forward and places his tiny hand in mine. I smile and he grins back. “You’re my mommy.”

“I am.”

He climbs on top of the bed and wraps his small arms around me. “Can you always be my mommy?”

The desperation and exasperation from earlier sticks to my throat as I think of what to tell him.

I’m not staying here anymore.

I don’t care if the police lock me up. I just can’t, under any circumstances, remain in a house that gives me the creeps with a man who’s erasing me from existence.

It’s been a week since the attack. A whole seven days since he first fucked me.

He’s done it again and again since. Sometimes twice a day. Sometimes as a form of punishment. Last night, it was because he figured out that I’d spent most of the day taking care of Yan—a fact he doesn’t like.

He was harsh, unyielding, and didn’t pull out of me until my lips bled from how much I bit down on them. I’m glad he cleaned me up and covered my body with a nightgown, because the last thing I want is for Jeremy to see me in that state.

But then again, Adrian provides the best aftercare I’ve ever witnessed. I’ve only ever known selfish men who paid attention to their own pleasure and to hell with mine. Adrian doesn’t only make sure I come first—and multiple times—he also never leaves me dirty and walks away. He always bathes me, dresses me, brushes my hair, tucks me in, and even tells Ogla to bring me meals in bed when he feels I’m too sore to move.

I want to convince myself that I don’t like any of that. That I have no choice but to go with it. But is that the case if my body always comes undone? If I crave him as soon as his hand is on me?

It’s not his touch that I hate. It’s him and the way he’s never called me by my name.

I stopped asking for it, because not only is it useless, but I always get punished for it. Hard, with more pain than pleasure, as if he wants to erase that thought from my brain.

And that’s why I need to escape. My heart bleeds at leaving Jeremy, who’s staring up at me expectantly, his gray eyes huge. Unless…

My heart jolts as a crazy idea forms in my head.

“Mommy?”

“Yes?”

“You didn’t answer me.”

I scoff. He’s definitely taking on his father’s demanding personality.

“I’ll always be your mommy, Jer. Nothing will change that.”

“Can we play together today?”

“Yes, but we have to pay a visit to Yan first.”

“Is he still sick because he saved you, Mommy?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m gonna give him one of my toys then.”

“You’re such a good boy, Jer. Come on. Let’s get ready.”

After we get dressed, I take Jeremy downstairs to have breakfast. Ogla watches me peculiarly but says nothing. I’m packing some toast and jam when she finally speaks, “Where are you taking those, Mrs. Volkov?”

“To Yan and Kolya. They barely have real breakfast nowadays.” While I’ve hardly seen them—or the other guards—eat before, I know Ogla usually takes their meals to some back building where they live and have their food.

“You’re not allowed to visit Yan.”

I lift my head, pausing my task. “What?”

“Before he went out this morning, Mr. Volkov gave specific orders that you’re not allowed to visit Yan.”

“Oh, fuck him and his specific orders.”

Ogla’s bland eyes widen as if not believing I just said that. I made her speechless for once.

Jeremy giggles as he tugs on my dress. “Bad word, Mommy.”

“Sorry, angel.” I smile, then direct my stare at Ogla. “Tell your boss that he can’t stop me from tending to a patient.”

And with that, I take the food and tell Jeremy to come with me.

We go into the guest house. Unlike the other guards, Kolya and Yan apparently live here. As usual, there are two soldiers with drawn weapons in front of the building. I’m prepared to give them a piece of my mind if they try to stop me, but they don’t.

When we go into Yan’s room, we find him sleeping. He woke up a few days ago, but the doctor put him on pain medication that causes him to sleep more.

He’s covered by a gray duvet that’s been pulled up to his chin, a slight stubble growing on his jaw, but he’s not as pale as those first few days.

Kolya sits by his side, tapping on his laptop. I’m surprised to find him here, because he’s usually Adrian’s shadow, and since Ogla told me Adrian has outside business today, I thought Kolya would be with him.

But then again, there’s been simmering tension between the two of them since Yan’s injury. They barely address each other, even in Russian. Adrian has been going out a lot during the day with the other men, and Kolya has hardly left Yan’s side

When we enter, he closes his laptop and stands up.

“Is he better?” I offer Kolya food.