Chapter 52 Omg
Maria's POV
Wet, mortifying tears slide down my face as I'm back in my room. After running from one of the most awkward and embarrassing moments of my life, I went to my room, locked the door, and slid down onto the floor between the bed and the wall.
I had heard the commotion by the gate from the guards' radios, then the car pulling in. Not even paying attention to my reality or surroundings, I ran outside to jump into Aleksander's waiting arms.
Except
Standing there was an older man in a suit that screamed money and power. Looking at me like I was an American spy in Russia in the 1970's.
My brain had turned to mush, and before I could communicate properly, he had a pistol pointed straight at my heart.
I kept shaking, trying to get at least my hands to stop so I could use the phone. Picking up my burner phone, I checked for any missed calls or texts, but the phone was still blank. After everything that went down between Aleksander and me, I did my best to believe that he gave a damn about me. The sex, the protectiveness, and his claim that he would not allow anyone to touch me must mean something.
Standing up, I walked to the bathroom, turned on the faucet, and grabbed a washcloth. I put it under some cold water, trying to wash off the humidity and my embarrassment.
How could I ever show my face again? Would Aleksander's father try to kill me? Would he still see me as a spy or a liability?
Staring at myself, I didn't recognize the woman staring back at me in the mirror. My face was red and blotchy from crying with black circles under my face like i've never slept a day in my life. Fidgeting, I found some lotion with a makeup tint that someone picked up at the store for my toiletries. Pumping some into my hand, I used my fingers to smooth it over my face carefully, giving special attention to under my eyes.
Looking at myself now, I look like I'm alive, barely. No longer looking like a corpse that crawled from out under the grave.
Pulling some shorts and a t-shirt from the dresser drawers, I quickly pulled them on. My mind was still racing from everything going on, and that was something, regardless of whatever I did, that wouldn't go away. Maybe it was my insecurities that I developed over the years that forced me to build a wall so high that nothing could break it down, until maybe now.
Crawling into bed, I once again grabbed that damn burner phone and decided to do something I might regret. Instead of texting him like I probably should have, I pulled up his number and pressed call.
Ring.
Ring.
Rin...
"Maria?" Aleksander's voice came sleepily out over the phone.
My breath caught in my throat.
Sighing with relief, "Aleksander, are you ok? Henry told me you had Dimitri. When are you coming home?"
"Slow down, Maria, one question at a time. I am hoping to be home sometime in the morning. Yes, I have Dimitri, but we can't move or do anything until he is stable enough. That is what I told Henry, and he should have relayed that to you. Did he not?"
Laughing nervously, "He did tell me. But I wasn't sure if it was the truth."
As soon as it was out of my mouth, I regretted it. I sounded like an insecure teenage girl talking to her high school crush.
"Of course it's the truth," he said, sounding a bit irritated, "Are you ok?"
Not knowing how to say what I really wanted to say without just spitting it out.
"Your father's here. I thought it was you pulling up. I know you told me to stay in the house. But I was so excited thinking it was you that I wanted, no, I needed to see you. So I ran out and almost ran into your father."
Silence.
"Um, when he saw me, he looked pissed and kept asking me who the fuck I was and then pointed a gun at me."
Roaring over the phone, "He did fucking what?"
Great, this is not how I wanted this to go. Maybe I shouldn't have said anything. Covering my face with my hands, I started to try to calm him down.
"Aleksander, it wasn't the way I personally wanted to meet your father, but...."
"No fucking butts, Maria!" yelling over the phone. "I'll fucking deal with this mess. Please stay in your room. I'll have Henry bring you food and more books. Just don't leave that room until I'm home."
I didn't like being told what to fuck to do, especially like this. But if he dared to tell me this with the combined fact that his father was probably severely off kilter, then I might need to listen to him.
"Ok," I whisper so low that it is barely audible. "I miss you..."
"I know," he said quickly, "I have to go, I'll see you tomorrow."
Before I could say anything else, he hung up as quickly as he answered. Leaving disappointment in my heart, I lay back and just let my thoughts consume me.
You're a fat bitch, who would really want you?
He's just protecting you because he owes you a debt.
You don't belong in his world; you're just a waitress.
He doesn't really care for you; he's just using you as a placeholder.
You're just his BBW fetish.
This will amount to nothing.
Tears were streaming down my face, ruining any attempt I made earlier to pull myself together. Letting my intrusive thoughts win, I grab a small tote bag I find at the bottom of one of the closets and start putting clothes in it.
I don't know where I'm going, but I can't stay here. I can't breathe or control the thoughts running through my head.
The words You don't belong and Placeholder, keep rolling through my head as if it were some sort of torture that they would use during wartime. If they indeed use this kind of torture for prisoners, then this method was indeed extremely effective.
Throwing on my trusty flip-flops, grabbing my tote, I walk to the door and slowly open it, trying not to make any noise.
"Where do you think you're going?"
I looked up, and there stood Henry, trying to hide the smirk on his face, holding a serving platter filled with all kinds of food, and beside it were two books.
"Fuckkkkkkkkkkkkk," I threw my arms up in frustration, throwing the tote back inside the room. Usually, I have more fight in me than this, but who was I kidding? I'll never be able to leave this place.
The only way I'd ever be able to leave is if they let me go......alive or dead.
Ignoring Henry's sad attempt to talk to me, I jumped back in bed, pulling the covers over my head. Maybe if I try hard enough, this will all be a nightmare, and when I open my eyes, I'll be back in the queen bed in the house that I grew up in, hearing the lulling noise of the air conditioner unit.