I didn't understand why fate wanted to push Viktor and I together again. I knew we still had much to say, much to correct so I didn't refuse the nurse's offer. There were many people here who'd been injured severely and Viktor had managed to stroll past these doors on his two feet which was more than some could say. I was given a simple metallic dish and a white face towel and sent off to Viktor's little makeshift hospital room.

When I ducked into the flap, he was slowly trying to take the bloodied bulletproof vest off his shoulders while seated on the hospital bed that was covered in a crisp light green sheet. He noticed it was me but didn't say a word, his eyes staying on his task. I set the dish down on one of the high stools and brought it close.

When I turned to Viktor he had discarded his vest and was lifting the hem of his shirt slowly. He was unhealthily pale and sweat beaded his brow. Reaching for the scissors by the desk. I reached out and stopped his hand, my gaze running over his chest. He had some cuts in his shirt, probably concealing wounds under the read soaked spots.

He was tired. I could tell by the bags under his eyes and the slow blinks he made constantly. He'd over exerted himself and the high from his kills must have worn off. I didn't need him pulling too many muscles.

"Let me," I softly prodded and he dropped his arms but still didn't look at me. I was avoiding his gaze as much as he was mine. My hands still trembled but I steadied them and slowly lifted Viktor's shirt, cutting upwards towards his neck. Whatever fabric remained, I helped him slide off his broad tattooed shoulders, my skin sensually sliding along his.

Viktor really was a sight to behold. He was sculpted, fat and muscle working with each under under the hands of whoever created him to curve out a muscled chest and abdomen which was dotted with a few dozen freckles of their own. His skin was smooth and slightly tan, glowing under the florescent lights in the panic room.

But he was scarred as he was sculpted.

Cuts grazed his body, old and new, running though his abs and side. I also noticed that his tattoos wrapped around the top of his collar bone, dipping slightly into his pecks. I was yet to see his back but dragging my thoughts from the gutter, I dipped the cloth in water, wet it, wring it and brought it close to his body.

His nastiest cut was a shallow slice from his upper right shoulder and down his arm. His middle was mostly protected because he wore a vest before. I started at his shoulder, rubbing the blood off his body over the delicate designs of ink. He sat on the bed but I stood off to only his injured side, feeling the warmth of his skin around me.

I hated that my hands shook when I tried to get him cleaned but I couldn't stop them. Viktor put his hand over mine but I kept my gaze to his skin, his tattoos. It was safer than looking into his eyes. There, he'd see my truth just as I'd see his.

"You fear me," he decided and all the signs to prove him right were there except, as he said it, I felt this wrongness in my chest.

I didn't fear him. If I did, I would've long since gone for the hills. No, I'd finally thought and sorted through my thoughts.

"I fear for you," I revealed. "I fear the demons you face and how you don't seem in control when they take over. I fear that one day, they'll change the person I've come to know. I fear that you might not know how to fight back." I looked at him then, the sincerity in my words and my gaze enough to cause a lump in my throat. "I fear that I'll lose you Viktor. I'll lose you to the demons you habour and the grief you try to lift."

"No one's perfect," he stated and I realised irritation seeped into his voice. I quickly figured out where he'd taken offense in my words and corrected his thoughts.

"I'm not asking you to be perfect. I have my own demons but yours seem so great. I'm not saying I can fix you, I'm not saying I can make this all go away and I'm certainly not saying you're weak or unbalanced."

"Then what is it Peach?" he sighed and rubbed his forehead as he did when he was stressed according to my observation. "You confuse and elude me at every turn."

I lifted my hand and cradled his face in one clean palm. No blood of the enemy, no stench of death. "I want to be your friend Viktor. Someone you can rely on when everyone seems to be against you," I took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. "I want to be your consigliere."

Viktor's eyes darted around my face, for truth. I knew I still had my demons to face and the only way he was going to include me in his life was if he trusted me with things beyond what we knew. I had to show Viktor all of me to give him enough of a boost to show me all of him.

I wanted to give him a reason to stay with me.

"You're serious?" he asked and I nodded once.

We maintained eye contact for a while longer than necessary before I let my hand fall from his face, taking the cloth off his wound when he removed his arm. I soaked it and rinsed out the blood repeating the pattern to clean the wound better.

I placed the damp cloth to his face next, wanting to get the blood off. I cleaned gently and his eyes watched me. I didn't feel uncomfortable but I was uneasy. Warmth rushed though my blood at the kindling heat I felt between us. It might not have been there for him but with me, it was real and yet, I refused to act on it.

It disturbed me his beautiful golden locks were dipped in red and I couldn't clean it out so, I run my fingers through his silky hair as dried flecks of blood fell out. I continued doing this, removing as much as I could and his eyes were closed and head slightly bowed, leaning into my touch.

There was a stark difference between his hair and mine. Where as my fingers got tangled and mixed in my coils, his wavy strands allowed free, fluid movement. I brushed one the side of his head, pushing his hair back and held his nape. I left my hand there, holding the side of his face like he was just a child that needed to be cradled.

Taking advantage of the situation, Viktor pulled me close until our foreheads touched.

I'd never felt at peace like I did in this moment. For years I'd battled all kinds of addiction and depression. I'd pushed family away, I'd isolated myself and drowned in code. I'd saught out answers, I'd worked myself to exhaustion and I'd been paranoid, always looking over my shoulder for any sign of danger.

Here and now, I forgot all that because despite the fact that our journey started off with him trying to kill me, the Don had grown on me. I believed I could help him with his demons as much as he could aid me with mine.

"We leave tonight," he said softly, not wanting to shatter the moment. "I need to see my sister. Tell her about Markov."

I understood. "Okay."

It was once again, just going to be me and him just as I liked it. There were no complications, no causalities, no questions. We were much more flexible together.

I realised then that I should probably pull back from him, give us space but I didn't want to leave this bubble of security this moment had built for me. Viktor shifted first and I thought he was going to let me go but he brought his face even closer and his soft pink lips brushed over mine.

I was startled for a second, slightly pulling back. I did have experience in the direction we were going but no one had even been real or serious enough in my life for me to go further, intimately speaking. I'd just been too unfocused, too damaged by so much shit with my family.

But I wanted this. I didn't voice that my attraction to him fueled by lust could be a good distraction or me and for him. He wanted to move passed his demons, I needed to forget about the fact that I needed to face mine.

The brush of his lips was an invitation. I could pull back and he'd respect that. He wouldn't try this again, it's just who he was. We could pretend it never happened and everything would be as dandy as it could.

Or I could let myself burn in his heat and his pleasure. I could let myself forget during the times that he kissed me that we were fucked and I still had come no closer to Peirce or my father. Viktor himself would drown in the coolness of my skin, fight his demons by feeding them lust instead of the uncontrolled rage they needed.

We were just going to use each other, I knew that and he did too.

Our darkness was too delicate for warmth, too comfortable for light. We didn't want to ignite some fort of spark that would chase the shadows but we wanted to feel grounded in the dark abyss that surrounded us and the only way we could find an anchor was in each other. I knew it could end awfully for us but that would be then, now, I kissed the Don of the Russian Bratva.

I used the hand on his nape to pull us close until our lips crashed and opened, allowing our mouths to dance together in a mix of lust, promise and sin. His hand found its way around my waist and he shifted me so I stood between his legs and he bent down, taking what he wanted from me as eagerly as I was giving it.

He had a minty taste to his lips and his hands on my waist kneaded the flesh they held. I pressed myself into him, putting both my arms around his neck as we kissed, Burning and drowning our worries away until all I could think of was the feel of his skin under my fingertips and the wonderful flutter in my stomach. My head fogged up and no thought was easy to catch unless they involved Viktor.

His skin, his hands, his lips, his taste, his warmth.

I had to pull back to breathe and we went back to our position. His forehead against mine, both our breathing erratic. Viktor licked his lips and I could tell he still wanted more from me as I did from him but not here, not now. We'd already sealed it but now we needed time to really work this out. I was giddy enough to have a smile pulling at my lips and Viktor caught my expression, something behind his eyes brightening but I ignored that. Probably the light.

"Where is your sister?" I asked instead, brushing my hands across his bare inked shoulders. My voice was breathless, my body warm and my mind slightly distracted.

"New York."

My heart stilled at the place but I made sure Viktor didn't notice it. It couldn't be.

"Where in New York?" I pressed instead.

"A city on the outskirts called Toluclova. Our family has a mansion there and she goes to a private high school nearby. Why?" Panic rippled through my system and this time he noticed. "What's wrong Peach? If you're worried about us being found, I have enough safe houses in the area."

"No," I shook my head. "It's not that and... it's not safe for us to use anything Bratva related. I think we should find shelter some place they'd never look for us."

Viktor sighed. "I can think of something but..."

"I know a place," I forced out, licking my slightly bruised lips, gaining more courage from the still lingering effects of Viktor's touch. "We'd have to take about four trains to get there. Plus a long drive."

"What's this 'place' you know of?" Viktor innocently inquired. "Is it safe?"

"Yeah. They won't think to look for us there," I sighed and dropped my gaze. "About safety, I'm not so sure how it will affect us or, me in particular."

"Peach," Viktor demanded, making me look up at him. "What's going on?"

"I'm taking you to what used to be my home."