Prisoner (Russian Tattoos Book 2) by Kat Shehata Read Free Book Online

reminded me of the drawings in Dmitri’s sketchbook. Outdoorsy, personified nature, surreal world.
    He read to me in Russian, and although I didn’t understand the words, I felt comforted just hearing his voice. Having someone read to you was a small thing, but it was the sentiment behind it that calmed my trembling nerves. Since I’d been captive, I’d suffered physical and emotional trauma, depression, soul-crushing guilt, but the worst pain of all was loneliness .
    The separation from my loved ones was unbearable, but the solitude was more emotionally crippling than all the other emotions piled together. Dmitri was all I had. I longed for him to hug me and whisper words of encouragement that everything was going to be okay and feel his muscular arms around me—not in a sexual way—more like a primal craving to belong .
    I savored every word he spoke, every action. The way his lips moved, his Adam’s apple as it bobbed, his eyes tracking the words across the page. Every time he turned the page he stole glances at me, probably to see if I had fallen asleep. Overcome with the need for a human connection, I crawled across the bed and curled into his lap. I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed the only friend I had in my new world.
    I hugged him so tight, I could hear his heartbeat pounding in his chest. At first, Dmitri didn’t do anything. He didn’t reciprocate my hug, but didn’t shove me away, either. After a moment, though, he stroked my hair and whispered comforting words in my ear.
    I clung to him and inhaled the scent of home-cooked food that lingered on his t-shirt. He rubbed my back and kissed the top of my head to soothe my trembling body. Being locked in that room and handcuffed to the bed brought on a level of terror I prayed I’d never have to experience again as long as I lived. Dmitri’s warm embrace and comforting touch helped calm me down. He rocked me softly and I clung to him as I fell asleep, never wanting him to leave me alone in my nightmare.
     
    ***
     
    In the morning, Dmitri set out a spread of fresh berries, hot porridge, bread, honey, and yogurt across a small wooden breakfast table covered with a floral tablecloth and a trio of lace doilies down the center. He handed me a bowl, and for the first time since I’d been captive, I got to choose what I wanted to eat. It was a small milestone, but a positive one.
    I ladled out a scoop of cereal and topped it with fruit and honey. Dmitri held up a small pot of steaming milk and poured a little over my cereal and a splash in my tea. He eyed my bony arms and arched his eyebrows. “Boris says you lift weights.”
    “ Da .” I set down my spoon and flexed my arms in a strongman pose.
    He smirked, unimpressed by my guns, and shoveled a bite of cereal in his mouth.
    “Are you a real fighter or an enforcer who beats people up to teach them a lesson, like if they didn’t pay their gambling debts or if they did something that pissed off the Bratva ?”
    He chewed slowly, probably deciding if he was going to answer or not. “Real fighter.” He scraped his bowl clean and downed a glass of juice.
    “Cool.” I wanted to ask him a million questions, but I didn’t want to get on his nerves. My situation was looking up and I wanted to stay in good graces with my keeper. Knowing Vladimir wasn’t going to bust through the door and retaliate against me eased my tension, and I prayed Boris was telling the truth about sending me home.
    After breakfast, Dmitri led me to the interrogation room door. “I have surprise for you.”
    “Oh, my God. I’m going home today?”
    “Not that good of surprise.”
    “Is it a person or a thing? Are you sure it’s a good thing? Do I have to accept this surprise or can I decline? Was this your idea or did Boris come up with it?”
    “Surprise means you don’t know, right?” His tone dripped with sarcasm.
    “Right. Ready when you are.” I pointed to the door. “Open sesame.”
    Dmitri unlocked the door and