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Viktor comes and grabs the plate and walks to the doorway before stopping and turning to me. “I could’ve tricked you, you know. To get you to eat.” I don’t get to go on the bike? Tears well in the corner of my eyes, threatening to fall. My lips wobble. I trust people too easily. “Chill out, Сестра. We are still going. I just need to see what Riot’s doing so I can sneak you out. Also, your food needs to settle. I don’t need you hurling all over my bike and possibly me.”
I jump out of the bed, running to Viktor and crashing into him as he grunts from the impact. My arms wrap around his waist, and my head rests on his shoulder. “Thank you,” I whisper. I unlatch myself from him and step back.
He nods his head once and turns around to leave. “I will come get you in an hour. Be ready.” Once the doors close, I squeal. I bounce to the bathroom, grabbing some leggings and a Nirvana t-shirt. I strip off my clothes and start the shower, letting the warm water engulf me and wash the tenseness in my body away.
After washing and scrubbing everything with my new loofah, I shave all the places a girl is told they should. I do it to waste time, so I’m not sitting on the bed staring at the door waiting for Viktor. It’s been about forty minutes since Viktor was here.
I get out of the shower feeling fresher than ever. Getting dressed, I try to think of other things to do to waste time. With nothing coming to mind, I lay in bed, returning to my little cocoon I created for myself, watching the clock tick.
It’s been another forty minutes, no sign of Viktor. Another hour, then three, then five, now it’s dark. Still no Viktor. My tears have stained the pillow a few hours ago, now being all dried up. I have no more tears to cry at this point. I cry over Riot, my father, my mother, and now that I got lied to, to go on a fucking bike.
Wondering if there’s a roof here, I get out of bed, body slumped out of exhaustion from crying so much. I don’t want to jump off it, I just want to see mom. Walking out of my room, I make sure to take mental pictures of the area so I can find my way back. People are rustling around, the house that sounded so quiet is full of life.
Looking around, I see a girl my age talking to Riot. A pang of hurt flicks in my chest, seeing him talk to a girl. She looks so much better than me. Her hair looks healthier than mine, her waist is smaller, her stomach flatter, cheeks more rosy. She looks like the embodiment of beauty, not me.
Riot notices me staring at him because his masked face glares my way, arms crossing over his chest. My eyes widen as I see him excuse the girl and start to walk towards me. I bolt. My heels practically kick up dust as I round corners, almost falling a few times.
Busting through a random door, I find stairs. Jumping up them two at a time, a door sits at the top, leading to the top floor of the mansion. It was huge, at least four stories, because I just ran four flights of stairs.
Panting, I lean over and rest my hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath. I hear the slam of a door behind me, which kicks my ass into high gear, running around the floor to find stairs to the roof. I saw the fucking flat roof, there has to be a way up. Maybe a ladder.
I look out all the windows, finding a ladder tucked away on one of the bedroom balconies. I climb up the ladder like a fucking monkey, having no clue where Riot is. Reaching the flat part of the roof, I’m amazed. This is nothing like New York, it’s so much better. In New York, you can’t see the stars because of the lights, but here in the mountains, you can see everything.
Looking up, I see every star and constellation Mom taught me about. I trip on a chair, my ass landing luckily in said chair. Pain shoots up through my ass and back from hitting some metal on it, but I don’t pay attention.
Mom’s up there, looking down on me. I hope I make her proud, at least the smallest bit. I look at the brightest star, knowing that it’s her. She’s saying hello to me. The stars captivate me, drawing me in from their sparkle and shine, the way that a new star means a new person. Every star has a story, just like every person does.
Hearing a loud clunk to the side of me, my head snaps over to see the green glow of Riot’s mask shining off the house in the dark. I hear his boots thud against every rung of the ladder before his face comes into view.
When he sees me, his pace quickens until he’s up the ladder and storming towards me. Panic swells in my stomach, frozen to the spot. I scoot to the back of the chair, yelping quietly when I pinch my finger on a spring. I see his head tilt to the side at my small noise. “Now, Penelope. Running from me? Tsk tsk tsk, that will not do. I think you need to be punished.”
*This book is an advance reader copy and is to not be distributed anywhere. [email protected]*
15
Chapter Fifteen
I Feel Like I’m Drowning - Two Feet
Penelope
Riot looks furious, not from his face, but from his stance. I can’t see his face, but I know it’s mad because of the way his shoulders are tense, the way his jaw ticks slightly from under the mask, the way his breathing is heavy, making his chest heave up and down quickly.
He closes the distance between us, kneeling next to the chair, eye level with me. “Moss, you know you can’t escape me. So why try?” His large hands run along the bare skin of my arms. He moves over my shirt and back onto my skin, caressing the skin of my neck. His hand wraps around it, and the fear triples in my face.
“You look so pretty with fear etched into every inch of your so fucking soft skin,” he whispers, his face moving closer to mine. The glow of the green starts to hurt my eyes from being so close, and he notices my squinting because he turns the lights off, taking the mask off and setting it next to the chair.
The glow turning off made all the lights in the sky reappear. My gaze flickers to the stars, but snaps back when I feel Riot’s lips graze the bottom of my jaw so lightly, it feels like a feather.
His eyes are locked on mine, his brown eyes searching mine. So many emotions swirl in them at the same time. His hand on my throat squeezes ever so slightly, making it known he’s still there. His lips brush my own, and I tense up impossibly more than I already am.
“I’m still mad as fuck at you for the bike stunt you pulled, but fuck, I can’t stay away,” he whispers, it’s so quiet. Leaning in ever so slightly, I brush my lips on his harder, hoping this is the right move.
His lips crash to mine in an instant, hungry and full of power. Letting my eyes fall shut, I let him lead the kiss. His body leans in closer, almost on top of mine on the little pool chair. Sunbathing chair, whatever. His hand squeezes tighter, my oxygen disappearing. “Can I touch you?” He leans back, searching my eyes for an answer.
What happens if I let him touch me? Will he use me and then leave again? “You going to leave again?” I whisper. Something in his eyes shifts, looking almost like regret.
“I didn’t want to leave. I had to.” He spits out, and I flinch slightly. His tone softens, seeing my reaction. “You don’t know my world and what dangers lurk in every corner of the dark. There are a lot of people who pray for my death as they pray for their food. It is my job to keep my family safe, and my legacy alive. As much as I hate my father, he worked too hard for me to let it fall to the ground like a weak building. My throne is the highest power you can get in this world. Fuck the president, fuck the king of England, fuck whatever else there is. I have the power in this world, and it’s fucking amazing.”