Chapter 4

ALTHEA

“Althea, I’m talking to you.” My mom snaps.

“I know,” I nod. “I can hear you.”

“You’re telling me you don’t have five hundred?”

I suck in a breath. “Did you forget you’re the mom?” I raise an eyebrow. “You can’t be asking me for money, Mom.”

“I wouldn’t be asking because if you were a good daughter, you would give me my share of whatever that boy is giving you,” she hisses. “I’m not even asking for much, that’s pocket change, Thea.”

I sigh.

She seems to think Kirill is giving me money. He often comes to see me at night. We take a walk in the park, and more than twice we stop to make out, and he seems to have a thing for my hair, so it’s often messy when I get back home, and then my mom just assumes the worst.

“So you’re telling me you’re just sleeping with him and getting nothing in return? Thea. I’ve raised you smarter than that.” she tsks. “Is he stingy? You should stop wasting your time warming his—”

“I’m not sleeping with him!” I snap. “Or anyone. I’m a virgin, Mom. Do you want to get me tested to satisfy your curiosity?”

She blinks, staring at me for a moment before she speaks again. “I’m sorry, baby. I overreacted. It’s just that I’m behind on the mortgage, and I’m just trying to make sure you have a roof over your head.”

I don’t answer her.

I simply walk away. I'm getting tired.

Last week, I turned eighteen, and instead of thinking about what university I'll choose after graduation, I'm stuck wondering if Mom is using again, and when it is that we'll lose our house.

A few minutes later, there’s a knock on my door. I don’t even know why I open it, but Mom looks apologetic when I answer the door. “I’m sorry, baby.” She chokes.

I look down at the glass of orange juice in her hand. We never go without it because I can’t go to bed without having a glass, and she always ensures we have it. “You should drink this,” she says, handing it over. “All of it, it was the last in the carton, I think it went bad already, but we’ll have more tomorrow, I promise. Fresh juice.”

It tastes worse than it did last night, but I drink the entire glass and hand it back to her.

By the time I finish washing up, I’m beyond ready for bed. I turn on the fan, but the room keeps getting hotter. The weather seems to have drastically changed.

I hear the doorbell, and a moment later, my mom’s voice changes. It grows softer, the kind of tone she uses with her clients. I immediately start looking for my noise-cancelling headphones because this isn’t my first rodeo.

“Where is the money, Lynette?” A man asks. “Are you going to get on your knees again or pay?”

“I have a better deal for you.” I hear her say. “If you forget this debt and give me half a kilo, I’ll give you something better.”

“Which of your friends is joining us?”

“No friends, not me. But someone new, she’s pretty, young, new…you’ll like her.”

Young? That piques my attention. I tiptoe my way to the door to listen, but what she says next makes my heart drop. “She’s in there. I slipped her a couple of pills so she'd be in the mood.”

She keeps talking, but I don’t hear the rest of it.

She is talking about me. She drugged me, and she is selling me off to feed her drug habit. Panic sets in before the disappointment does. It’s not the weather that changed, it’s me. That’s why I feel so hot, that’s why I feel so tired, and that’s why my skin burns.

I grab the first dress I touch in my closet and slip it on then sneak out my bathroom window, and I borrow a bicycle from Theresa’s brother, promising him a pack of cigarettes.

I don't know where to go, but then I remember Kirill invited me to a party, so that’s where I go.

I hear the noise from Nevan’s house before I even get there. The place is packed, cars everywhere, drunk students here and there, and LED letters that spell out ONE LAST HURRAH.

I find Kirill instantly.

My nose tracks him down before my eyes can try. His scent, a mix of liquor and cedar, hiding between his car and someone else’s. “Althea?” He squints, rubbing his eyes, then looking at me again. “Baby, what are you doing here?”

“Hide me,” I swallow.

He doesn’t ask another question. He takes me through the back of the house and into an empty bedroom, then locks the door. He makes his way to the bed and sits, while I linger by the door. “Hellcat?” He asks, once again rubbing his eyes as if unsure it’s me that he sees. “Are you okay?”

I nod. “I ran away from home, my mom—”

“Did she hurt you?”

I swallow, shaking my head. “I just wanted to see you, but she said it was late.” I lie. There’s no need for me to involve him in my issues.

“Come.” He says, tapping his thigh. “I missed you.”

I sit down in his lap, and he hugs me, resting his head in the crook of my neck. “Do you want a drink?” He slurs, breathing me in. “Baxter went all out with this party.”

“Nevan,” I correct him. “This is his house,” I say.

Kirill laughs, and he kisses the side of my neck. “You smell so good, Kotyonok.” He almost whispers, “What is that?”

Heat. Drugs. Desire. All of it, and being this close to him fuels it all. When his head lifts, I kiss him before he’s done contemplating it. “Where’s my shy girl?” He murmurs against my lips, kissing me harder, his fingers threaded into my hair like always.

My hands fist his shirt, wanting him closer. His hand slips under my dress, and I find myself lifting off his lap before he can properly touch me. His hand slides into my panties, and he lets out a low groan. “Fuck, baby.”

“Kirill,” I gasp into his mouth, feeling his fingers inside me, one at first, then two. He starts pumping slowly, his mouth claiming mine.

When his thumb touches my clit, I lose it, and an unfamiliar ravenous urge washes over me. I need more.

I push Kirill on his back and straddle him, not a clue what it is that I’m supposed to be doing, but I need him. I want Kirill inside me, and my clumsy urgency starts to frustrate me. I can barely get the zipper of his jeans open, and when I reach inside to feel him, Kirill clasps a hand around my wrist and yanks me onto his chest. “Easy, Kotyonok.” He whispers against my lips. “Let me teach you.”

“Please,” I whimper.

He starts with my dress, effortlessly getting it over my head and then flipping up so I’m under him now. The rest of our clothes come off in pieces. I’m not even sure how or when because I’m drunk on the taste of his lips.

“You smell so good, Kotyonok.” He groans, filling with a single thrust that steals the breath out of my lungs.

“Kirill!”

“Oh,” he groans. “Did I hurt you, baby?”

“No,” I cup his face, kissing him again. The sting of his cock stretching me is overshadowed by the pulsing need in my clit. “Continue,” I beg.

He starts to move, his pace raw and unguarded, giving me exactly what I need. I get lost in the pleasure, the drugs hit force then blend with the desire I’ve caged for years, and when I finally come out of it, I’m sated. Kirill is still inside me, lazily fucking me from the side while come drips down my thighs. “You love being full of me, Kotyonok?”

“Yes,” I whimper. I can feel the pulsating swell of his knot inside me even after he stops moving.

“That was amazing,” he says, kissing my shoulder. “You’re a spell, mate.” He whispers, “I love hmsghjr…” He trails off, every word after that incoherent. When I look back at him, he's sleeping.

When his knot deflates, I turn around to look at him, softly tracing his face. With the haze of my heat fading, I finally remember the reason I didn’t leave my house tonight. I had to finish my project. I place a kiss on his bicep, throw my dress on, and slip out the same way I came in. The party seems over because I don’t encounter any intrusion, no one awake.