Dimitri's Forbidden Submissive(37)

He sounded super pissed and she swallowed hard, staring at Dimitri’s back. Her heart slammed against her ribs as she realized the Dimitri she thought she knew was nothing like the Dimitri who helped run a vast criminal empire that was so brutal, so sadistic that she had trouble even wrapping her mind around it. He ran the prostitution arm of the Novikov family, for fuck’s sake. A shudder of revulsion worked through her and she was so glad they’d used a condom.

“Hey, Rock.”

“What the fuck are you doing with Dimitri Novikov? Have you lost your goddamn mind? Do you know who he is?”

“I…I just found out. He made me do an Internet search on him.” She wondered if Dimitri could hear her and lowered her voice, “Rock, I had no idea. He seemed so nice.”

“Rya, listen to me. It is not safe to be around him, do you get me? You need to get away from him as soon as possible.”

“You think he’d hurt me?”

“I don’t know. But I do know that the Novikov Curse will.”

“What?”

“He hasn’t told you about that yet?”

“I read something, but I was a little distracted. What the hell are you talking about and how do you know Dimitri?”

“I don’t know him, but that’s Club business.”

She wanted to scream in frustration, but managed to hold it in. “Rock, what should I do? We’re at the fucking Grand Canyon, alone.”

“What the hell are you doing there?”

Without going into too much detail—her step-dad didn’t need to know she was into BDSM and sold herself at a charity auction—she told him about Dimitri wanting to get away from everyone, how she’d mentioned that she’d love to see the Grand Canyon, how he’d flown her out there, bought a motorcycle, and basically done everything to fulfill her wish. As she spoke about it, she felt like she was talking about two different people. The Dimitri she thought she knew seemed utterly devoted to making her happy, but in his other life he fucked whores and killed people.

Rock was silent for a long time, then said in a tight voice, “I want to talk to him.”

“Fuck. Rock please…”

“Baby girl, give him the phone, now.”

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.

Screwing up her courage, she walked over to Dimitri and cleared her throat. “My step-dad wants to talk to you.”

He turned and gave her a searching look, sadness flashing through his eyes before he took the phone. “Go back to the tree, Rya. This is not a conversation for you.”

Part of her was tempted to tell him to fuck off, or to just get on the bike and ride off, but she couldn’t leave him here. He hadn’t done anything wrong—to her. Fuck, he’d tried to warn her, but she’d been too wrapped up in her romantic fantasies about him being in the Russian mafia without thinking about the cold, brutal truth of what that really meant.

With a heavy heart, she returned to the tree and sat on the hard ground, drawing up her knees and resting her forehead on them. Her emotions were all over the place, ricocheting from fear, to sadness, to anger, and surprisingly enough, to feeling pain for Dimitri. She couldn’t imagine what it must have been like to have been raised by someone as ruthless as his father, to have grown up in an environment of such extreme violence. God, she was so stupid. Her idiotic optimism wanted to see the best in everyone, so she ignored the repeated warnings Dimitri had given her, and listened to her hormones and her foolish romantic heart instead.

Boots crunched in the rocks near her and she looked up, taking her phone from a silent Dimitri when he offered it. Her voice cracked as she said, “Hey, Rock, it’s me.”

Rock actually sounded calmer than when he’d first talked to her. “Hey, baby girl. You sound freaked out. Don’t be. It’s all good.”

Blinking rapidly, she tried to figure out what the hell was up with Rock’s sudden one-eighty. “What are you talking about? You told me…you know.”

“Yeah, but trust me, Dimitri’s not gonna let anything happen to you.”

“But he’s…” she glanced up, finding Dimitri still watching her with that cold look. “You know…”

“Yeah, I know. Better than you think. Give the man a chance to explain himself.”

“Why?”

“Because he isn’t going to let anything happen to you.”

“Rock, you aren’t making sense. And if you tell me Club business, I’m never going to bake for you again, and you know Mom can’t cook for shit.”

“Oh, that’s just harsh.” He sighed and some of the humor drained from his voice. “Look, not all bad guys are bad. Trust your heart to know the difference.”