Song: Die For You - Remix
𝔚𝔚𝔚
Celina
There's chaos in most actions.
Some are chaotic on their own, while others are insignificant alone, but grouped together fuel a fire so big, catastrophe strikes.
Tonight, I find myself in the midst of a series of insignificant's.
The low rumble of the engine.
His steady breathing. His unwavering gaze.
The clanking of the tires on dirt road.
My angry breaths. My stubborn stare.
The white noise surrounding the space as the driver speeds into the endless night while his words, spoken mere moments ago, echo in my mind and sit heavy between us.
"You're a smart girl, you'll figure it out."
Wether he's mocking me, trying to distract me from the truth, or simply dangling it infront of me as bait to amuse himself, I don't know.
All I know is that I refuse to break away from this stare off first. Refuse to let him know that his freakishly uncomfortable tendency to maintain eye contact isn't scaring me away.
And when he breaks first, turning to glance ahead of us, I lean back in my seat, a satisfied smile making its way onto my face. "I am a smart girl." I echo, despite a whole two minutes passing since he'd spoken the words, they still reel in my mind.
"I was clearly lying." So effortlessly casual, Adrik faces ahead and pulls a pair of leather black gloves from his pocket.
I watch him, albeit in the dark through the shadows of light as he slowly slips them on over his hands. "If there was an ounce of intelligence behind those beady eyes, you'd be paying attention to our surroundings."
My smile slowly drops in unison with my gaze as it moves away from his perfect postured form to the dashboard clock before out onto the road. We'd been driving for nearly 2 hours, on a dirt road and so far away from civilization that the only sign of life comes in an old ratty Inn that we zoom by.
"Open all the windows." Adrik commands, while our driver looks about near shitting himself as he flickers his gaze to Adrik in the rear view mirror before nodding, lowering all the windows and gripping the steering wheel like it's his only source of strength.
I watch him closely, he's scared, nervous, and although I have no fucking clue what's going on, I know my night is far from over.
"For fucks sake." I sigh, leaning back into my seat while the man's to my left remain so unbothered it begins to annoy me. He's too calm, too composed. This ruse could very much be his doing. "The day I start taking advice from a psycho wearing leather gloves is the day I die."
Moonlight dances along the sharp shadows of his face as he pulls the seat belt over himself, remaining still, calm and composed, only turning to send me a sideways glance. "Suit yourself."
There's no time to react with what he does next. He reaches forward, wraps his hands around the drivers neck from behind and in a spilt second, snaps it to the side. While the small pop of his neck that's heard, acts as the catalyst to the chaos.
The entire car swerves when the driver loses consciousness and in response, my body jolts up to grab the steering wheel, but it's too late.
By the time I reach towards the front, the cars veers off the road, crashing into a ditch before toppling over onto its side.
A ringing slowly penetrates my ears before I lose hearing all together for a brief moment while my body is thrown to the side, as my world flips.
Seconds go by as I try to regain my breathing. Minutes go by as I try to move my limbs and when I finally do regain my sense of hearing, there's a steady breathing in my ear, one that I know doesn't belong to me. "What the absolute fuck is wrong with you?"
I can already feel the aches beginning to form all throughout my body, the exhaustion that's bound to overcome me and the annoyance when I realize my cheek isn't pressed to the window, but the dirt ground.
Everything around me is dark, and I shut my eyes a moment to think, only I'm disturbed of that too.
"You said you wanted to die." His low voice, completely steady and tranquil sounds from around me, and after a moment of recalibrating my senses do I realize he's directly in front of me. "I was helping you."
He sounds calm and alright, the realization that it's because he'd had his seatbelt on in preparation for this making it ten times harder to control my anger.
If I thought the man was a psycho before, now I was convinced he was dropped on the head ten times hard as a kid.
I stare at my passenger side window that's now directly above me, to see the starts and moon creating little beams of light down onto us and find a sense of hope in the sight.
If I could just get up, and make it out of the window, I'd be fine.
I shirt, trying to lift up and pull myself up, but without gravity on my side, my upper body strength isn't enough to get me out.
I seek out the sharp angles of Adrik's face to see his head tilted to the side as though he's already begun assessing our surroundings. And when he proceeds to reach down and in click his seatbelt, I know he's yet again prepared for the situation.
But that sense of envy vanishes when he continues to attempt to free himself from the seatbelt but fails when it jams.
"What the fuck do you suppose we do now?"
"We?" He hums, my barrette glints beneath the moonlight as he takes it out of his pocket, only to begin cutting the strap of the seatbelt.
He gets it he seatbelt off, leaving his body to come crashing down onto mine.
A grunt of pain is all I let out when the brute force of his fat ass comes down onto me, stealing my breath while the man doesn't so much as blink. "There is no we."
With the grace of a skilled assassin, the man reaches up, grasps onto the handles near the top window and lifts himself up.
So effortless he makes it look easy, while I'm left panting and trying to recover. "You're just gonna leave me here?"
He makes it up and out of the window, leaving me alone, only sticking his hand back inside to reach for his gun that'd managed to slip out and I know the answer to my question.
Yes.
There is no term to describe the immense frustration I feel towards this man, but I push through my pride for the sake of my own survival. "I'll die and you can't use me anymore."
"Pests like you don't die." He glances down at me through the open window, with the air of an arrogance ruler, looking down at a subservient maid. "You'll figure something out eventually."
Eventually.
A brief flicker of panic passes through my eyes at that notion. He was right, I would eventually figure my way out of here, but who knew how long that'd be.
Judging by the smug look in his blue eyes, he must see the panic, "That is, unless," his eyes lazily draw down to me and I know whatever he says next is purely to stroke that ego of his. "You beg for my help."
The silence that follows after his statement is one that's filled with spite on my end but satisfaction on his.
He's serious.
He wants me to beg. Probably gets off on humiliating me.
He begins to turn away after I don't let up, and I try one last time to lift myself up but realize I don't have his upper body strength nor can I in the position I'm in.
"Help me." I grit out, carefully, forcefully, causing him to turn and bring his attention back to me, his lips tipping a millimetre to the right.
Oh, how badly I wish I could wipe that look off his face.
"Please." I get out, slowly, pushing past the physical pain it brings me to say so.
An unimpressed low hum is all he throws down at me. "Not nearly good enough." If my skin was any lighter, he'd be able to see the red hue spreading across it. "But I suppose we'll have lots of time to work on that."
My eye twitches, but I don't have time to snap at him. Not when he reaches a gloved hand into the car towards me.
I take his outstretched hand in mine, and as if he's yet again proving how much stronger he is than I am, he carry's the entire weight of my body with one hand.
Show off.
The minute my heeled feet hit the dirt of the road, he lets go of me, leaving me to steady myself against the totalled SUV and I do so all the while glaring at his back.
"You're fucking crazy." I mumble, my gaze moving to my clutch a few feet away from the car. I walk over to it, grab it, retrieve my phone, only to let out a huff when I realize there's no fucking service. "Nice job, genius," He ignores me and reaches back into the car to retrieve the dead drivers guns. "We're stranded in the middle of butt fuck no where, in the middle of the night, with no service."
Turning towards me, gun in hand, Adrik narrows his eyes as though my presence is more of a bother than the situation he's caused. "Would you have rather been taken hostage?"
"Cant be any worse than being tied to you." I snap, turning around and making my way towards the road, hoping that a car will pass by, yet even I know the chances of that are close to none.
And so, instead of standing near the bat shit crazy Russian, I begin my treck back down the road towards the structure of the Inn I faintly remember passing.
The minutes of silence as I'm walking down the road alone, allow me a moment to think. But it's extremely difficult with the summer heat slowly eating away at my sanity and the exhaustion of a long day numbing my feet.
It's so bad that all I can think about is strangling Adrik Kozlov until the vibrant blue of his eyes dies into a murky one.
"Where do you think you're going?" My shoulders bunch as I suppress the urge to jump. How a man of his height and build could move like a ghost not only surprises me, but pisses me off.
"Why do you give a shit?" I cast a glance behind me, making out his suited up figure in the dark following after me. Yet even stranded along a dirt road he walks with the grace of a king on his throne. "There is no we, remember?"
"Did I say this was a we thing?" He asks.
I have to walk twice as fast to stay ahead and in a moments time he's able to catch up, "Then why are you following me?"
"Don't flatter yourself." I'm breathing heavier, my feet are aching but I'm pushing through it while his breathing is evened out and steady as he continues speaking. "I'm headed this way, regardless of you."
I pick up my pace, and relief settles in my chest when the lone streetlight for what looks to be a motel lights up. That relief is squashed a moment later when the giant pain in the ass appears once again. "You know this is all your fault right?"
A barely there scoff sounds from the man. "I saved us."
"I'm not talking about that." I snap. The bottom of my long dress continues to get in the way, and so with an annoyed breath, I reach down and rip the bottom half of my dress at mid thigh. My favourite black dress turns it into a skimpy little mini dress and although it allows my legs to move is larger strides, I immediately begin missing the original dress. "I'm talking about this rat problem of yours. It's getting really fucking annoying."
"I've got it under control." Is his sharp reply.
We make it close enough to the motel that the dingy lights illuminate his serious face and I stop at the sight of it, while he continues walking. I let out the biggest scoff known to humankind as I glance at his back. "Do you?"
That makes him stop, tense briefly and turn around to face me.
"Look around, Addie." I take slow, deliberate steps towards him, stopping only when I'm close enough to bat my eyes up at him in that way that he hates. "We're out in the middle of butt fuck no where." I gesture around is, before trailing my finger up across his cheek and softening my voice to a condescending one. "You clearly don't have it under control."
And that's when he snaps.
He'd managed to take off his gloves in the time we'd made it here because when he grabs my wrist, and twists it behind my back, his skin sears mine.
"I fucking hate that name." There's no masking the bite to his tone. He's angry, pissed even.
"Good." I snap right back, tilting my head up to get right in his face. There was a big part of me that liked it when I made him angry. It made me feel special, like I was able to achieved something most weren't. "Get use to it."
"I don't need to." He seethes, tightening his grip on my hand.
"Yeah, but." I knee him in the groin, before I can make contact the man kicks my leg back down, but in doing so, he frees my hands. "You need me."
Frustrated with my efforts the man's hand makes its way around my throat and he pulls me flush against his body, not allowing me any more room to fight back. "I need a wife." Voice low and menacing, his grip around my neck tightens. "And last I checked, my first choice was clearly still interested."
Harsh angry breaths fill the millimetres of space between us. Mine ragged and uneven, his harsh yet steady.
I grip his wrist and while I can't remove his grip, I can dig my nails into his flesh. "Fuck. You." I spit, so angry I feel like I'm seconds from exploding.
The emotion in my voice is thick, and makes his lips twitch. "What's the matter, Ademaro?" He tilts his head and eliminates the space between us, lowering his voice to a low drawl. "Did I hit a nerve?"
I hold his stare, and when I'm sick of his face, I attempt to pull his grip off me. He doesn't relent. "Let go of me." I grit, my hands shaking with how mad I am.
His lips twitch once again. "Things getting too personal for you?"
He knows.
It's why he's bringing her up, deliberately trying to get a reaction out of me and using a new found insecurity to do so.
I neutralize my expression, glance down at his lips a hairs width from mine and look back up into his eyes flared with hate. "Let go of me, or I'll spit in your mouth."
There's a fraction of a second where those eyes drop to my lips, and the thought of me doing as I'd threaten passing through his mind.
His expression is unreadable, so is the way his eyes flare up. It's such a short moment that I'm not able to catch anything before he's pushing me off him and turning his head away from mine, breaking eye contact.
I take the space between us to clear my head, but realize I'm far too heated and exhausted to read into anything or stand here and play this game.
Pushing past him, I hurry towards the motel, aside from a series of motorcycles locked behind a gate, there are no vehicles in the parking lot. Not that I'd think anyone would hang around a place like this.
The broken bell atop the door dings when I open it, a broken radio plays nothing but the sound of static while the few working lights flicker, hiding the imperfections along the walls. But It does nothing to mask the smell of alcohol poisoning and lung cancer.
Sketchy doesn't even begin to describe the place. I've seen torture cellars with cleaner walls and doors, so you can imagine my surprise when the lady at the front desk tells me they've got only one room left for the night.
The loud fan blowing in her face does nothing to stop the sweat dripping from her forehead as she has yet to look up from her magazine at me.
"You got a phone I can use?" I try, finally grabbing her attention. She looks me up and down, her interest clearly piqued before her eyes dart behind me. "No."
"Internet?"
"Nah." She's still looking behind me, and it's not hard to tell what she's looking at, more so, who. "We got no service out here, no buses, and our A.C's currently out of order. So is the ice machine."
As if this night couldn't get any worse.
"I'll take the room." I sigh, reaching into my clutch and opening it up. Aside from a few hundred dollar bills, my phone, and my favourite shade of red lipstick, I had nothing. "How much?"
That gets her attention back to me, she glances from my ring to my purse then up to my face while twirling a piece of hair in her hand. "Eight hundred a night, excluding tax, and the cleaning fee."
She doesn't even try to sell the lie, nor am I in a mood to fight with her. "I got one hundred and a pair of earrings that'll get you a grand in resell value."
She perks up, and glances at my diamond studs. "Kay."
Only before she can take my money, a heavy presence steps up to my side, and her eyes go to the man in the crisp suit who sliding a black card towards her, "I'll triple it, if you give me the room."
The cash in my hand crumpled into a ball as I stare ahead refusing to look at him.
"Three hundred?" The girl splutters, eyes blinking at the man standing next to me, her mind clearly switching between what he's saying and her own fantasy.
Adrik holds her gaze. "Three thousand." And when she moves to eagerly take his card, I know this night has just gotten fucking worse. "I want it cleaned, thoroughly."
"Done." She shrieks, excitement bubbling at the fact that she was just able to get three grand for a room that probably goes for thirty dollars a night. "I'll have your room ready shortly!"
She hurries off after ringing him up, ignoring me as I stand there desperately trying to suppress the breakdown that I know will end up with her blood staining the already stained walls.
Deciding to be the bigger person, I turn to the left, and follow the stench of cheap beer and cigarette smoke, away from the devil who I want nothing more than to kill.
The stench takes me to the threshold of a bar, one filled with old men lounging about, while the few women in the room wear close to nothing.
But that's not what piques my curiosity, its the tattoo branding every single person in here seems to have, one dedicated to the same cause.
A motorcycle gang, - a low budget one by the looks of it.
"You've got to be fucking joking me." I mumble under my breath, glancing around the room to the last types of people I'd want to spend my night with, just as the last man I want to be near suddenly steps right next to me and glances into the room.
He gives a thoughtful him before turning his head to me. His gaze moves from the women inside the bar and drops down to my dress that I'm now realizing I'd cut a little too short and then back up to my face. "And here I was thinking you'd have trouble fitting in."
My response is an eye roll. "Fuck off, Kozlov." Is all I say, leaving him to make my way into the room. His eyes follow me in my little black dress and diamond encrusted Valentino's, all the way to the bar.
Yet his eyes aren't the only ones that follow me. I stick out like a diamond in the dirt, clearly someone that doesn't belong in the midst of them and judging by the looks I receive from everyone here, they're under the same impression.
I make it to the bar, order the strongest drink they have, down it in one go and wait for the first old fuck to approach me.
I don't have to wait long for the sorry sucker.
He buys me a drink, I order the fruitiest one on the menu and claim I don't take my alcohol very well. He laughs a laugh that turns into a cough while I pretend to be oblivious to his leery stare.
"You're not from around here, are ya?" I take a sip of my drink and give a little shake of my head, before eyeing his leather jacket thrown over the back of his chair. "Girls as sweet as you never are."
I give a light laugh and throw my head back.
"So..." his eyes dip to my cleavage before moving to the diamond on my ring finger. "What brings you here?"
I lean over to whisper in his ear, and when he turns his head away to hear me better, I reach into his pocket and swipe his keys. "Marriage problems."
He laughs, and I take the opportunity to slide the keys into my purse. "Anyways, I should probably get going." I sigh, wasting no time in getting up. "It was lovely to meet you-"
"What? You're leaving? We didn't get to-"He barks, cutting me off. His demeanour instantly takes a turn for the worse and I withhold an eye roll at the grown ass man throwing a fucking tantrum.
I slowly back away and send him a soft smile, watching as he stands, slipping on his jacket and to my annoyance, instinctively reaches for his keys.
He doesn't find them.
And I know he knows it when his eyes snap to mine and narrow. "You tryna steal my stuff, girlie?"
That gets the attention of nearly every man in the room and I know that one wrong move will land me in a type of trouble I'm not equip to handle on my own right now. "No."
He takes a step towards me, I take a frightened one back, as murmurs break out and a man far into the room calls out, "Search her! But do it on the stage!"
Hoots go off in the room, while the old fuck of a man smirks and takes a step towards me.
I briefly curse my luck for getting so sloppy that I'd come to this. "Come on, then, let me have at you-"
His hands reach towards me and I know that the moment his hands make contact, this innocent charade is up.
Only much like everything he does, Adrik decides to make an appearance at the perfect moment, acting as my knight in shining armour. "Is there a problem here, gentlemen?" Low, authoritative and confident the man makes his way towards us.
"Who..." The grimy old fuck retracts his hands and straightens out at the sight of him. "are you?"
Adrik's got a hand in the pocket of his slacks, the other fiddling with a set of room keys as he walks to stand next to me, an air of curiosity following him, but it's the dark kind that I'm sure the men in here grow weary of.
He doesn't look at me, instead, he keeps his gaze trained on the old fuck. "Her fiancé." While his voice remains calm, nothing about his demeanour portrays that. He's a walking threat to any dominant type man.
For once I don't hate that quality. "Well your fiancé here stole my keys." He pats around his pockets and narrows his eyes at me once again, most likely bitter at the fact that he wasn't able to get his saggy skinned hands on me. "I cant find em."
"Is that true, baby?" Adrik turns his head towards me, and raises a brow. "Did you take his keys?"
"N-no I didn't." I place my hand on my chest as though the thought physically struck me hurt and step into his side. "I would never, ever do such a thing."
"Liar-" the old man takes a step towards me, but my faux fiancé cuts him off.
"If she says she didn't steal it," taking a step in front of me, Adrik looks down at the old fuck. "Then she didn't."
The room has gone silent, and I know that Adrik's presence is either threatening enough for them all to continue being cautious or riling the testosterone levels in the room.
I realize it's a mix of two when I glance around the room to the people eyeing him, cautious, yet moments from pulling out their weapons and waging war.
It's so distracting that I barely notice the arm of the man reaching towards me. "Then it shouldn't be a big deal if I search her-"
"It'd be in your best interest not to touch her." The low drawl is all it takes for every single man in the room to stand in solidarity with the old fuck and I briefly wonder if we're in over our heads.
"Why?" Someone barks.
It seems that the Russian tyrant doesn't share my lack of confidence when he straightens out and levels the man with a stoic look.
"Because I don't take well to sharing." His voice sharpens, a clear threat in his tone. But he stands confident as ever in a room full of men on the opposing side, the only thing keeping him safe being his sense of confidence in creating fear.
Silence stretches long, so long that I find myself holding my breath, before mentally drafting an escape plan, a silence so long that my shoulders visibly relax when the man drops his hands.
Aside from a low hum, Adrik doesn't relax, instead he pushes his luck when he opens his mouth. "Smart idea."
And with that, the man grabs my hand and drags me out of the room, while everyone watches, showering for any signs of weakness go pounce.
"What are you doing?" I whisper, letting him lead me out of the room.
Why are you helping me? I wanna ask.
He casts a glance back at me, as we exit the bar, out the front desk doors and towards the row of motel rooms.
He speaks a moment later when he glances down at my purse. "Proposing a bargain." The warmth of his hand in mine leaves the moment he lets go once we stop outside a room I'm guessing he overpaid for. "Give me the keys you stole and ill let you stay in the room."
"No way." I turn to scout the parking lot over the railing yet all the vehicles I can see are motorcycles stored behind a gate. "I'm getting the fuck out of here tonight-"
He steps into my personal space from behind, drops his head so that his lips are inches from my ear and speaks in a voice low enough for just my ears. "The gates are locked till morning."
A couple pass us by and Adrik rests his hands on the railing on either side of me, leaning into me, so close that I tense when his chest brushes my back, and it isn't until the people slip into their nearby room does Adrik pull away and begin to open the door to his motel room.
I don't say anything as I relent and move into the room after him, stopping when I realize that aside from a dresser, the room has nothing but one double bed.
For fucks sake.
He closes the door behind me, locks it and moves towards the dresser while I watch his frame that seems to swallow the entire space whole.
He slides off his blazer, leaving him in a white dress shirt that despite the events of tonight have stayed crisp, while his arms, beyond toned and muscular peek through in a way that makes it hard not to stare.
"I'm not sleeping on the floor." I trail, watching his hand as it moves up to work on loosening his tie.
He removes his tie, undoes the first few buttons of his dress shirt before moving to take out his guns and disassemble them. His eyes stay onto mine. "Neither am I."
I stare at him, our gazes lock, and it isn't until he makes his way into the bathroom that he break away.
The moment he exits the room it feels like I'm freed of his shackles of intensity and I can breathe again. His presence is oddly overwhelming and while I'd jump at the chance to get the fuck away from him, our circumstances don't allow me to.
Which is why I forfeit for the time being and begin to unwind. I slip off my uncomfortable bra, set my bag on the dresser, ditch my shoes somewhere in the room and when I can't take the anticipation any longer, I go through the pockets of his blazer in search of my barrette disguised knife.
I don't find it.
"Fucking prick." I mumble when I realize he'd either hidden it well or stored it in his slacks.
"Find what your looking for?" I tense, and slowly turn to see him leaned against the bathroom door frame, his large build nearly taking up the entire frame as he eyes me with those intense eyes.
I narrow my eyes at him. "No."
He gives one of those hums that tells me he doesn't care and moves past me, towards the bed. "Bummer."
Asshole.
I don't say anything else to him as I make my way into the bathroom, wash my face, hands and any other place I can with what's left of the soap, and when I step back out into the bedroom, I'm engulfed in darkness.
I walk blindly through the dark and make it onto my side of the bed. And when I do slip onto the mattress, my shoulder brushing his, I don't have to see it to realize the bed is too small for his unnaturally large frame let alone both of us.
I don't know how long I lay next to him, staring at the ceiling, contemplating every choice I'd made that led me here, in a ratty motel, sharing a bed with my enemy.
An enemy who is currently wide awake, laying next to me.
"Why'd you help me?" I blurt after a while, the question swimming in my mind still.
He doesn't speak for a while and I almost think he doesn't hear me. "You were either going to get yourself killed or get my ring stolen. "I glance to his side profile and realize he's studying the ceiling aswell, while he tucks an arm behind his head. "I can't have either of those things yet."
Turning ove onto my side, I flicker my eyes across the sharp features of his face as he shuts his eyes, looking almost at peace for a man like him. "So what I'm hearing is that you need me."
Once again he doesn't answer for a while and when he does, he lets out a sigh, one doused in fatigue and exhaustion so strong for a moment I think he's human. "If I didn't you'd be dead."
𓆩❤︎𓆪
Sorry I had to break this chapter into two, but let me know your thoughts on this chapter. I'm a sucker for the one bed trope.
Btw this isn't a love triangle romance book. Also for those of you thinking he likes someone at this point in the story.
He doesn't, everything
he does is just diabolical and extremely planned out. Dw
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Also did anyone see Lana Del Ray's interaction with Alisha Marie, Remi and Olly? I'm literally still reeling from the fact that Lana Del Ray watches YouTube vlogs.