Alexandr's Cherished Submissive (18 page)

The world took on a surreal quality as nausea bubbled in her stomach, and she tried to get her legs to work, to kick out at them, but the man with his hand over her mouth suddenly pinched her nose shut, cutting off her air. Oh God, they were going to slice her ear off, and there was nothing she could do to stop them. With her lungs burning, she tried to claw at them, only to have the bald man grab her wrists and easily pin her while the man in the corduroy jacket called someone to pick them up.

Her vision was fading when suddenly the pressure holding her up was removed, and she slumped to the ground, sucking air into her burning lungs. A terrible, chilling roar echoed down the brick alleyway, and even in her stupor, it made her whimper, and she tried to push away with her numb legs. Now with the men’s weight off of her, she could breathe. With each ragged inhalation, her vision began to clear, the numbness fading to be quickly replaced by pain. Blinking, she tried clear away the tears blurring her vision in the odd lighting of the alley. She squinted at the sight of her attackers fighting someone in the deep shadows, as her mind tried to make sense of what she was seeing.

Something warm trickled down her face. She touched her aching cheek where she’d been struck and then looked at her fingertips stained red with blood.

Fuck, that asshole hit hard.

The noise stopped abruptly, and a moment later, she was being carefully lifted from the filthy ground. Bright light and voices came from behind them, and her head throbbed as shudders wracked her body. She had a brief glimpse of Alex’s rage-filled eyes before he turned and began to speak rapidly in a language she couldn’t understand. The fear began to leave her as he cradled her to his chest, and she buried her aching face against his shirt. She took in deep breaths laced with his masculine scent, the fabric of his shirt soft against her face. A sob tore from her, and she clung to him, dimly aware that she was also bleeding on him and probably stunk like garbage.

Someone tried to take her from Alex, and she shook her head in protest and wound her arms around his neck.

Alex let out a low, rumbling growl. “I will take her upstairs. Find out who they are.”

A voice she recognized as her Uncle Peter spoke from right next to her. “Give her to me.”

“You are too angry right now. You will frighten her.”

“And you won’t? You’re fuckin’ covered in blood.”

“It does not matter to her, because she knows I would never harm her.”

“What the fuck are—”

“Please,” she whispered in a rough voice. “I need to wash their stink off me, get the taste of them out of my mouth. Take me to a bathroom.”

Without another word, Alex turned and walked her back into the pub, using the private entrance to Peter’s home above the bar. It was an odd place for her aunt and uncle to live, but it was also huge and good for entertaining. There were always people going in and out of his house, so she was surprised when she found they were alone except for guards stationed at every door who watched her with open anger mixed with concern. Alex made a soft, almost crooning sound as he carried her into the gleaming black marble master bathroom.

“Jessica, I put you down. I can turn on the water and clean you.” His English wasn’t coming to him as easily as it usually did, and she dimly noted that fact.

The only word that really got through to her fuzzy mind was clean. She wanted clean and pure right now, needed it. She was drowning in the stink of that alley, and she had to get it off. When she lifted her dirty hand to remove the stained remnants of her cream blouse, Alex made a soft hissing sound and gently held her arm still while he examined her wrist. With her free hand, she reached up and touched both her ears to reassure herself they were still there.

Alex shushed her softly when she cried out as he manipulated her hand. “This might be sprained. Let me tend you. Once endorphins wear off, will be pain. I swear to you I do nothing inappropriate.”

Instead of answering, she merely held still while he deftly removed her clothes, leaving her in her green bra and panties, before he turned the shower on. Steam soon filled the air, her ragged breathing drowned out beneath the rush of falling water. A quick glance down showed scratches marring her torso and red spots on her arms that she knew would eventually turn into bruises. Right then, she should have been totally embarrassed by her semi-naked state, but her mind seemed to be swaddled in cotton. She was beginning to process the incident, and she started to shake, her teeth chattering with each full body tremble.

A weird, keening noise filled the room, and it took her a moment to realize she was the one making that sound.

Alex spoke in the soft, soothing, crooning murmurs she loved as he led her into the shower. His fingers were gentle when he began to take her hair out of her mangled bun, and she turned her face gratefully to the water, opening her mouth and spitting the coppery taste of blood away. She gently probed her lip where it had been split, wincing at the sharp sting from her light touch. As her shudders subsided, the pain set in, and she whimpered when Alex gently turned her face to examine her cheek.

“Is not too bad, will not need stitches. How is vision, Jessica?”

With those words, he drew her out of her stupor enough for her to wonder if he was naked as well. Turning around, she found that he was standing in the shower with her, still wearing everything except his jacket, belt, socks, and shoes. Amusement crept in on the edges of her fading adrenaline rush, and a rather mad sounding giggle escaped her. Hands down, Alex would win any wet-shirt contest he entered.

Instead of fearing for his life at the creepy titter that had just come from her, he grabbed the soap and a washcloth from the shelf. “I will clean you quickly and will not touch intimate areas.”

Even in the warmth of the shower, she began to shiver again, and by the time she was clean to Alex’s satisfaction, the tears had restarted.

He set the soap aside then wrapped her in his arms, whispering things to her in Russian she didn’t understand while she clung to him. Alex had saved her life. If he hadn’t come…

She didn’t realize she’d said those words aloud until Alex murmured, “I will always be there to save you, Jessica. Always. I swear it.”

If she’d been a little more with it, she would have argued that he couldn’t always be with her, but instead, she just absorbed his words and let them soothe her.

He helped her out of the shower, wrapped her up in a towel, and began to dry her hair with another. It was only when he unlocked and opened the door to the bathroom that she realized someone had been knocking on it. Aunt Mary stood in the doorway, along with Uncle Peter and several people behind them. Still dressed in a dark mink fur jacket, Aunt Mary pushed past a soaking wet Alex and swept Jessica into her arms.

“Oh my sweet girl,” she murmured. “My sweet, sweet girl.”

Jessica was vaguely aware that men were talking in loud voices, but she clung to her Aunt Mary, now sobbing again as her overwhelmed mind tried to find some release for her lingering terror. The adrenaline was wearing off, and her whole body ached and stung, her wrist throbbing almost as bad as her cheek. A moment later, Uncle Peter and Alex stood next to her while Alex began to go over her injuries that he’d seen while she was in the shower. Aunt Mary made shushing noises, rubbing her back until the shudders slowed.

“My head hurts,” she whispered.

“The doctor’s on his way, Jessica,” Uncle Peter growled out in a tight voice, his face flushed red and his eyes glittering with emotion.

Too overwhelmed to be embarrassed at her total breakdown, she nodded. The soft fur of Aunt Mary’s jacket was now damp with her tears, and it rubbed against her face. The soft, tactile sensation that cut through the muzzy haze of fear and helped ground her in the present. She reached out to her uncle and was soon completely enveloped by her family, each of them holding her tight enough that it hurt, but she didn’t protest. She needed their warmth, their love.

“Jessica,” Peter whispered against her head.

“I’m okay,” she whispered back while her Aunt Mary silently cried, placing the occasional kiss on Jessica’s head and cheek. “I’m okay.”

She had no idea how long they stood huddled together, but eventually, their hold on her loosened enough that she could step back and scrub a trembling hand over her blotchy face. They helped her to the room she’d stayed in when she first arrived in Ireland, and the familiar surroundings soothed her. The large room was decorated in soft tones of rose and white with a massive canopy bed fit for a princess. The lights were turned down low, lending to the comforting atmosphere.

A brass-framed photo of a young teenage Peter and her birth mother sat on the table next to the bed, and her already fragile emotions took another hit. Aunt Mary took Jessica into the adjacent bathroom and helped her dress in some sweatpants and a loose T-shirt before bundling her up in a thick, royal blue terry cloth robe that smelled of her Aunt’s subtle perfume. When they returned to the bedroom where the men were huddled together, she clutched the robe to herself as she sat on the bed with her arms wrapped around her knees. Her mind slowly came back online and she looked for Alex.

“Where is he?”

“Who, darling?” Aunt Mary asked as she gently finished drying Jessica’s long hair with a towel.

Her voice came out rough when she said in a much louder, slightly hysterical, voice, “Alex, where is Alex?”

“Shhh, he’s talking with Peter.”

“Please, I want Alex,” she whispered and hugged her knees harder, trying to control the trembling that had begun to start up again.

Peter came into the room with another, older man with salt and pepper hair and kind blue eyes. When she didn’t see Alex, she repeated in a stronger voice, “I want Alex.”

With a sigh, Peter stood next to the bed. Reaching down, he gently cupped her cheek. “He’ll be here in a few minutes, lass. He’s getting some dry clothes on. Let’s get you checked over real quick.”

“Promise?”

“Yes, love, we promise,” Aunt Mary murmured and ran a soothing hand over Jessica’s back. “Anything you need, darling, just let us know, and we’ll get it for you.”

“Okay.”

She zoned out while the doctor looked her over, answering his questions as best she could. When she described what had happened, how she’d been struck and how they were going to cut her ear off and leave it in the alley as morbid gift for Peter, she could practically feel the rage coming off her uncle. Aunt Mary held her good hand as the doctor manipulated her hurt one. An occasional tear rolled down Mary’s pale cheek, but she tried to brush them away without Jessica noticing. They asked her a few more questions, but her mind was drifting again, and she refused to think about what had happened in an effort to shield herself from it.

The doctor was handing out some painkillers when Alex came back into the room, his presence filling it with harsh, masculine energy. Like her uncle had said, he’d changed into a dry pair of black trousers and a white button down shirt, but his hair was still damp. When his worry-filled, dark gray eyes met hers, she could feel her lower lip wobbling, and she tried to stop it by firming her mouth.

For a moment, what looked like helpless rage and pain twisted his features, but his expression smoothed out into his usual emotionless mask. “Jessica,” he said in a soothing voice, “you are all right. We keep you safe. Never let harm near you again.”

Her breath hitched, and she held her arms out to him, silently pleading with him to hold her. He was there in an instant, sitting on her bed and pulling her onto his lap, the scent of his laundry soap on his clean clothes surrounding her while she clung to him. He was so big, so strong, and he’d saved her. He held her and placed his lips against her temple while he whispered to her in Russian. She didn’t understand the meaning of what he said, but there was no mistaking the profound relief in his voice.

When her latest crying jag was over, her head hurt more than ever. She looked up to find that the doctor was no longer there, and she was alone with her family and Alex. Mary was watching them carefully with a worried expression that would normally have caught Jessica’s attention, but she was so mentally exhausted it was impossible to do anything more than exist in the moment. Uncle Peter was talking quietly on his phone as he watched her closely, his gaze darting between her and Alex with a decidedly unhappy frown deepening the lines around his mouth.

He caught her looking at him, and he gave her a grim smile that held no mirth. “Are you hurting?”

She nodded, her face rubbing against Alex’s tear-dampened shirt beneath her cheek. “My head hurts.”

“Here, love, take these.” Aunt Mary handed her two pills and a glass of water.

She moved away from Alex just enough to take the medicine before clinging to him once more. He didn’t seem to mind and continued to hold her close. His strong heart beat beneath her cheek, and the sound lulled her. The thought of what those men would have done to her if Alex hadn’t followed her began to take root in her mind, but she refused to think about it right now.

Alex spoke in a low murmur, his chest rumbling beneath her ear. “Jessica, tell me what happened.”

She went over what she could remember, her voice breaking now and again, the tremors returning as she relived it. When she got to the part about the ear, Alex went stiff. His grip on her grew almost punishing so she shoved at his chest. “Ow.”

His grip loosened right away, and he smoothed her hair back from each ear. His expression was closed down, but she could see his pain. The thought of her being hurt seemed to truly upset him, and she gave a watery sigh before she reached up and held his cheek. She needed to give him something to let him know how much he meant to her. The memory of what it felt like to think she was going die still haunted her. He placed a kiss on her forehead then leaned back again. There was a tenderness in his gaze she’d never seen before mixing with remorse. Though he hid it well, he was obviously very upset.

With this in mind, she tugged gently on his hair, pulling him down so she could whisper as softly as she could in his ear, “I’m sorry. I remember now what happened that night in your bed, not all of it, but enough. You had the right to be angry with me. Just please don’t call me names. It hurts.”