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Chapter 25
Aurora
With every passing day, Misha grows tenser. He hasn’t snuck into my room since our make-out session.
I’m trying not to worry that he’s withdrawing from me, but it’s hard. It’s not like we’ve labeled what we are. He has no obligations toward me.
Don’t worry until he tells you it’s over.
Walking into the class from hell, nerves spin in my stomach. “I better not be shoved into a crate today,” I mutter.
“If we get to choose, pick Misha,” Abbie says. “He won’t do that to you.” She glances at me. “Just make sure you go to the restroom before they tie your ass down. There’s no getting out of those restraints.”
I let out a chuckle as we join the other attendees.
Instructor Yelena glances at the group, then says, “Aurora, you’re with Misha. He’s going to help you get over your claustrophobia. The rest of you follow me.”
With a gaping mouth, I turn to Misha. “We’re doing what?”
He waits for everyone to head into the warehouse, then asks, “You trust me, right?”
“Not enough to be stuck in a small space,” I mutter.
Misha gestures toward the backdoor. “Come on. I promise it’s not as bad as you think.”
When we walk into the warehouse, we head to the back where the crates
are.
“I’m not getting into a crate.” I shake my head at him. “There’s no way.”
He grips hold of my arm and pulls me into the maze. We stop in front of a random crate, and I watch as Misha takes the front panel off.
He crouches and crawls inside, then sitting down, he pats the tiny space next to him. “Get your ass in here. We’re leaving it open.”
Taking a deep breath, I crawl in next to him. “How is this going to help?”
“By gradually being exposed to small spaces, you’ll become desensitized.”
I turn my head to look at him. “How do you know it will work?” “Because I’ve kind of been through it.”
My lips part. “For what?”
He thinks for a moment, then says, “My situation was very different from yours. I was desensitized to taking a life. At first, it fucked with my head, so they forced me to take care of all the kills. After a while, it didn’t matter anymore.”
Oh. My. God.
I can only stare at Misha as his words sink in.
We’ve never talked about his job as an enforcer, and I don’t know how to approach the subject.
His eyes drift over my face. “What do you want to ask?”
Paula’s scream echoes through the building, then I hear Abbie curse, “I’m going to rip your crazy-ass dick off. Motherfucker, that hurts.”
“Stop cursing him and fight back, Miss Sartori!” Instructor Yelena shouts.
“Aurora,” Misha says to get my attention back on him. “What’s the question?”
My teeth tug at my bottom lip, then I just gather the courage and ask, “Don’t you feel guilty when you kill someone?”
He shrugs. “At first, I did, but with time they all became jobs that had to be done. If I have to think about every person I killed, I’ll never sleep a day.”
Unable to hold the question in, I ask, “Aren’t you afraid of dying?” Misha’s eyes lock with mine. “I don’t plan on dying young.”
“Yes, but something could go wrong. Doesn’t that cross your mind?”
He shakes his head. “No. I’ve trained too fucking hard, and I have Alek and Armani watching my back. If I go on a mission worrying if something will go wrong, I’ll end up dead.”
Before I can ask another question, Misha grabs the panel and leans it against the crate, so it blocks out some of the light.
I feel a twinge of anxiety in my chest, but knowing I’m not completely shut in, it’s manageable.
He watches me before he asks, “How are you holding up?” “I know I can get out, so it’s not really bothering me.”
Moving out of the crate, he walks away, then I hear him shout, “Alek.” When Misha returns, I ask, “Why are you calling Alek?”
“So he can shut us in the crate.” “Are you insane?”
“Not legally, though I’ve never been tested,” he jokes as he sits down beside me.
When Alek reaches the crate, Misha says, “Close the panel.” “Sure thing.”
My anxiety spikes a little as we’re plunged into darkness, then I hear Alek’s muffled voice, “Use protection, kids.”
I take a deep breath, then ask, “How will we get out?”
“We have to wait for Alek to decide we’ve been in here long enough,” Misha answers, his voice sounding intimate in the dark.
“That can take hours!” “Yep,” he murmurs.
I shift, but I can’t move much because I’m squashed between Misha’s huge body and the wood panel.
“How are you holding up?” he asks.
“It’s still bearable.” This time I refrain from saying it’s because he’s sitting next to me. I don’t want to give him the idea to leave me alone in the crate.
“What is it about small spaces that causes you to have an anxiety attack?”
“It’s being stuck and never getting out of the space,” I answer.
I try to move again, and when I can’t, my anxiety spikes enough to make my heartbeat speed up.
I take deep breaths, and Misha must hear it because he asks, “What’s making you panic?”
“I can’t move,” I admit.
“Focus on my voice,” he murmurs, his tone calm. “Relax your muscles and inhale slowly.”
I do as he says, but it’s not helping. “I need to move.” “You can’t. We’re stuck.”
“Misha,” I whimper, my breaths coming faster and faster. “I can’t do this.”
He kicks at the panel, and when it falls to the floor, I scramble out of the tiny space and suck in desperate breaths of air.
Instead of being disappointed in me, Misha helps me to my feet. He smiles at me with pride shining in his eyes. “You lasted longer than I
thought you would. You did good, moy malen’kiy olen’.”
I look at the crate, and even though Misha is proud of me, I worry about the next time.
“Get back into the crate,” Misha orders. “What? I just got out. No,” I argue.
“Without the panel. Just sit down in it.”
I let out a huff, not happy about this at all, but still, I crawl back inside.
When Misha joins me, I’m squashed against the panel again.
“If I have to sit here, you have to answer more questions,” I say to distract myself.
“Okay.”
“When we first met, you said you grew up in an orphanage.” “Yeah?”
“How did you end up in the bratva?”
“Alek’s parents took us in,” he answers. “Mr. Aslanhov is one of the bosses in the bratva.”
“Us?”
“My sister and I.”
I turn my head to look at him. “You have a sister?”
The corner of his mouth lifts, and his expression instantly softens. “Yes.
Her name is Tiana.”
A smile curves my lips. “Where is she?” “She’s at home.”
I nudge my shoulder against his. “Tell me about her.”
He lets out a chuckle. “She’s around the same age as you. Drives me insane.” He grins at me. “Like you do.” I laugh, then his expression grows serious. “Up until I met you, Tiana was all that mattered. I worked my ass off to ensure a happy future for her.”
“Until me?”
His eyes lock on mine. “Now I have two women who mean the world to me.”
I swoon a little and grin at him.
Changing the subject, Misha says, “Try to move.”
I shift but stuck between his body and the panel, I can’t move much. “How’s your anxiety?”
“I don’t have any right now.”
Misha raises an eyebrow at me. “Yet you’re stuck, and your ass isn’t going anywhere until I move. How’s that different from when all four panels are up?”
“It’s dark then, and I’m surrounded by four walls.”
Misha shakes his head at me, his intense eyes boring into mine. “Aurora, listen to what you’re saying. First you started panicking because you couldn’t move. You still can’t move, yet you’re calm. I don’t think the problem is that you can’t move.”
I think for a moment, then say, “I have no idea what triggers it. I usually have an anxiety attack whenever I’m in a small space. Even elevators.”
He stares at me for a moment, then crawls out of the crate and stands up, leaving me alone in the crate.
Just as I begin to worry, he asks, “How’s your anxiety now?” “Still fine.”
With his eyes locked on mine, he says, “I’m going to close the crate.
Keep in mind I’m right on the other side of the panel. Okay?”
My stomach spins with nerves, and my tongue darts out to wet my lips.
Grow a spine and at least try.
“Okay.”
Misha lifts the panel, and right before he shuts me in, he says, “I’m right here.”
I’m engulfed in darkness, and I instantly move onto my knees, taking deep breaths.
“How are you holding up?” I hear him ask.
“At least there’s more space now that you’re out,” I try to joke as I start fidgeting.
You’re not locked in.
Misha will let you out if you ask. Deep breaths.
“You’re doing good,” he praises me.
I hear him move, and the words burst from me, “Where are you?” “Sitting flat on my ass, with my back against the panel.”
“Don’t leave me in here.”
His tone is gentle when he replies, “I won’t.”
As I try to glance around in the darkness, my heartbeat speeds up.
“Want to know what my first thoughts were when I saw you at the club?” Misha asks.
“Yes.” I swallow hard on the panic building in my chest.
“I thought, my God, I never believed angels walked among us. You’re so fucking beautiful, I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”
I let out an anxious chuckle.
His tone turns serious as he admits, “When I found out you were a D’Angelo, I was pissed off. Still, I couldn’t leave you in the hole.”
“I’m glad you didn’t.” I take deep breaths, trying to stay calm and focus on the conversations. “I didn’t know you were with the bratva. I was so disappointed when you didn’t come to the hospital.”
“I did visit you.”
My head snaps in his direction. “You did? When?”
“It was the middle of the night. While you were sleeping.” There’s a moment’s silence, then he murmurs, “I had to see for myself that you were okay.”
“Thank you,” I whisper.
I hear Misha move, then the panel’s taken down. With a wide smile, he holds his hand out to me. I take hold of it and let him help me out.
When I’m standing in front of him, he says, “You did good today. I’m very proud of you, moy malen’kiy olen’.”
Glancing at the crate, I admit, “It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”
“Same time tomorrow.”
Scrunching my nose, I mutter, “Yay me.”
As I walk away from the crate, I feel a sense of achievement. For the first time since I was a toddler, I didn’t lose my shit from being in a small space.
With a bit of luck and a lot of sweat, I might just be able to overcome this fear.