A/N:

I want to thank my Beta Roza. and .Dimitri.4E (link to her page on my profile) for writing the picnic scene. You're amazing and totally funny! I wuv you! :-)

And of course, I also want to thank all of you. You guys are the best readers in the world!

This chapter is really long (almost 10,000 words), so get comfy in your seat if you plan on reading it all in one sitting.

On another note, I think I may be writing too much. After I was done editing this chapter, I was exhausted and went to go have a little power nap. Well, when I woke up a few hours later, my mom explained to me that I had been sleep talking the entire time. Apparently, I'd flailed my arms wildly, mumbling "Where's the keyboard? I can't find the keyboard!" over and over and over again. Creepy, huh? Well, I just love you all so much that I risk becoming a sleep deprived maniac. Heck, maybe it's too late for me and I've already become one.

Anyways...without further ado, I present the next chapter to you! :-)

Disclaimer: I do not, in any way, profit from this story and all creative rights to the characters belong to Richelle Mead.

****WARNING: Chapter rated M for gory references and scenes. You've been warned.****

RPOV:

I don't remember much of what happened after Dimitri ripped my heart out and left me alone in the gym.

All I remember is pain, so much blinding pain. It consumed my mind and my body entirely. I'd never been rejected like that before. Hell, I don't think I'd been rejected…ever. But I guess there's a first time for everything. I just wish I had been rejected by some asshole guy who only wanted to be in my pants. But no, I had to be rejected by a god reincarnate.

I cried my heart out in that gym. Now, every time I'd have to go to that damn gym for class I'd be reminded of the one time the man I held close to my heart shattered and broke me into a million pieces.

I didn't think I could be fixed. I was pretty much ruined.

I screamed and cried Dimitri's name over and over again, feeling helpless and hopeless. Luckily, no one was there to witness my breakdown.

What I do remember clearly was when Mason came to my rescue, just a few hours after Dimitri had gone. I saw his firery red hair bobbing up and down as he ran to me.

"Rose? Rose?" He had said frantically. "Holy shit, is that you?"

I just stared at him, unable to find my voice and communicate like a normal person. Besides, what kind of question as that?

I probably looked like a mental patient. My hair was tangled into a birds nest from the way I'd pulled and yanked clumps of it out of my scalp. My eyes were puffy and swollen, and stuck out like some sort of freaky fish. Tear stains ran up and down my pale cheeks.

A tear escaped Mason's eye. I wanted to ask him why he looked so sad, but I didn't have the energy or heart to do it. After all, Dimitri had taken it from me and stomped on it. I didn't have a caring or compassionate thought within me; I was just a cold and hard empty shell.

"Let's get you cleaned up and into bed, baby," Mason whispered. "You look awful."

"I feel awful," I croaked, speaking for the first time. My throat burned from all the crying I'd done tonight.

Mason stiffened; he looked shocked and surprised that I'd responded. After a moment, he smiled weakly and gently scooped me into his arms. I was brought to his room.

I lay down on his bed and closed my eyes, suddenly feeling very tired and exhausted. Crying will do that to you.

Mason was so sweet and gentle with me that night. He washed my hands with warm water and picked out the tiny splinters I'd gotten from clawing at the gyms wooden floor. He washed my face with cool water and retrieved me something to eat and drink from the cafeteria. He didn't ask why I was crying, or what had happened, he simply took care of me like a great friend would.

I smiled at Mason, truly amazed at how careful and tentative he was with me, as if I was made out of some precious glass. He returned it with his own dazzling smile, but it held a tinge of sadness. I wanted nothing more than to make him happy.

But I still felt so empty, so alone.

I asked him to take me to Lissa's room. I wanted to be with my best friend. I was in need of some serious chunky monkey ice cream. And right now, I wanted to spill all of my guts to her. I needed to. There was no way I could hold this in anymore.

Mason knocked on Lissa's dorm room and glanced down while we waited for her to answer.

"You okay?"

I shrugged and laid my head against his chest. "I'll live."

"I hope so."

Lissa opened the door, looking the way I expected her to—like she'd just rolled out of bed. I did like her silky coral pink nightgown, though. I'd never be able to pull off that color with my olive skin tone.

"What are you doing here?" She mumbled, rubbing her bleary eyes.

Mason went on to explain the situation.

I watched as Lissa went from sleepy and sluggish to alert and awake. She focused in on my tear stained face and immediately became concerned.

"Oh, come here, baby girl." She opened her arms up.

Overwhelmed with emotion, I ran into her comforting embrace.

After thanking Mason, Lissa softly shut the door and helped me to the bed. Wordlessly, she pulled back the pink comforter and patted the sheets. I snuggled into her warm bed and rested my eyes. I felt the bed dip as my best friend sat beside me and started stroking my hair. I made a sound of approval that made Lissa giggle.

We sat there in silence for awhile, until the inevitable question came up…

"What happened?" Lissa asked.

I closed my eyes for half a second, took a deep breath, and exhaled.

Time to fess up.

I spilled my guts to my best friend. It was terrifying telling her all of my deepest and darkest secrets. It felt like your worst nightmare—the one where you're naked on stage in front of a thousand people. But in a way, this was a lot worst because I was emotionally exposed.

I left myself vulnerable to criticism as I told her everything about Dimitri. The before and after school practices. The talks. The feelings we had so obviously developed for each other. The heated kiss we'd shared in my dorm, and finally, the talk we'd had in the gym before Dimitri's abrupt departure.

We cried together. And I felt like it brought our bond closer together.

It felt great to tell Lissa, like a huge weight had been lifted off of my shoulders. I no longer was drowning in the darkness. If I could be open about my relationship with Dimitri to my best friend, then I was completely happy and content with that. I could talk to someone besides myself about the feelings I had for my mentor…

I can't tell you how wonderful that felt, to know I wasn't alone anymore in this.

I didn't know what kind of reaction I expected from Lissa. Disbelieve maybe? Disgust? Hell...maybe she'd go as far as reporting our illegal relationship to the police and get Dimitri arrested.

Her reaction was the last one I'd ever suspect.

"That son of a bitch!"

My eyes widened.

Lissa flung off the bed, huffed in anger, and threw her hands up.

"He's going to kiss you and then just throw you away like, like…like a piece of trash!"

Apparently, she was pretty angry. Her breathing came in ragged gasps and her hands were shaking, she ran them through her hair.

"That stupid, stupid man! He must have a brain the size of a pea if he thinks giving you up is a good idea." she puffed.

"His loss." I shrugged. Why was it so difficult for me to say those two words? Was I accepting defeat?

"We should get him back," Lissa tapped her lilac nails against her chin, deep in thought.

"Like payback?" I asked curiously.

"Exactly!" She shouted victoriously. She then began to whisper, like she was sharing some big forbidden secret with me. "I know this girl, who knows this guy, who knows this other guy, who may…you know…be able to get us some drugs."

"Drugs?" I asked, completely confused. I had no clue where she was going with this.

"Yes, Drugs." Lissa nodded. "We can plant some into his locker or apartment, call the cops, and get his ass arrested."

"You want to set him up?"

I barked out a harsh laugh when she bobbed her head up and down eagerly.

"You're not as innocent as you look,"

"Looks are deceiving," Lissa mumbled. "But that's beside the point. The point is I hate to see my best friend hurt. Especially by some douche bag—"

"Dimitri's not a douche bag," I interrupted.

She waved her hands. "I know, but it feels great to call him one, doesn't it? It eases the pain and the anger and the rejection. Go ahead, Rose, call him a dickhead. Scream it out loud!"

"You're cussing an awful lot tonight, Liss." I commented.

She shrugged. "I've been around you for way too long."

I grinned and then frowned again as the image of Dimitri in his sexy suit popped into my head.

"That's fucked up, Dimitri. Fucked up. Stop playing with my emotions, you either want me...or you don't. Simple as that."

"I don't want you."

"You told me you wanted to be with me!"

"It was a lie. I was lying."

The painful lump in my throat was the size of a baseball. I closed my eyes and fought the tears that dared to spill.

"Hey, Liss?"

"Hmm?"

"You know how you're a nurse and stuff, right?"

I didn't really know where I was going with this. But the words just continued to tumble out. I wasn't sure I was even making sense anymore. Maybe I'd lost my mind already. Maybe I'd lost it along time ago when I fell in love with Dimitri.

"Yes." There was a cautious note in her voice, as if she didn't know what to expect next.

"Can you die from a broken heart?"

"No."

"No?"

"No, you can't."

"Why not?" I plucked at the fabric of her blanket absentmindedly. "I feel like I'm going to die. My chest feels like there's a gaping whole in it, as if someone had ripped my heart out and left me there to bleed to death. I'm not hungry—and you know as well as I do, that I'm always hungry. I'm angry and about a million other emotions. And in a weird way, I feel like I'm dying…slowly but surely."

When I saw Lissa's face crumple with sadness, I immediately felt guilty for making her worry about me. I should be protecting my best friend and making her happy, not dumping all of my emotional baggage on her front door step.

"Elephants die from a broken heart."

"Huh?"

"Elephants, they can die from a broken heart." Lissa repeated slowly. "My ex-boyfriends mom was a zoologist. She once told me a story about how Ellie—one of the elephants at the sanctuary—died because she saw her companion die right in front of her. Ellie refused to eat or drink or sleep…or anything else for that matter. She'd just sit there, not moving an inch—even when zookeepers and veterinarians came in to give her her favorite treats. She died of starvation."

"She just let herself die?" I asked, entirely captivated with her little tale.

Lissa nodded sadly. "She was overcome with grief. If she didn't have her companion beside her, then she didn't want to live at all."

"Cool."

She looked horrified.

"No, not cool," I corrected hastily. "I mean it's cool how much she loved her little companion."

"Yeah," Lissa smiled. "Elephants are fascinating animals."

I nodded in agreement.

Lissa suddenly clapped her hands together and ran over to the mirror.

"What are you doing?" I yawned.

"Come here, come here," She waved both her hands. "I want to try something."

"Like what?" I stood up and walked over.

Lissa shoved me in front of her.

"Look in the mirror and tell yourself: I'm the shit."

"You just swore…again," I laughed.

"No shit Sherlock," She said with mock attitude. I laughed even harder.

"Now, go ahead, tell yourself you're beautiful." Lissa urged.

"You talk to yourself in the mirror?" I asked.

"All the time."

"Let me see it," I said.

"Very well," She walked up to the mirror and stared at her reflection. "Not bad, Lissa. Great hair and sultry eyes. Not to mention your silky and creamy skin. Christian's one lucky guy."

"You can say that again." I muttered.

"Okay, your turn." Lissa stepped away from the mirror and gestured me to it.

I stared at my reflection. "Eek. Gosh, I'm so ugly that I'm surprised this thing didn't shatter the moment it laid eyes on me. Look at those blood shot eyes and swollen lids. And, oh dear God, those hideous puffy bags—"

"Okay, so not what I was looking for!" Lissa exclaimed, clapping her hands loudly.

I frowned.

"Start over again, Missy," She ordered. "This time, focus on the good and not the bad. And smile, damn it!"

I did, and started over, just like she had told me. "I guess I do have nice hair."

"Mmhmm," Lissa hummed approvingly. She brought one finger up to her chin and watched me.

"I like the color and the natural wave I have going on here. It's pretty soft, and it smells like fruit when I wash it with that new shampoo I got from Target—"

"You're getting off track," Lissa interrupted.

"I could get any guy I wanted," I said to myself.

"Getting better…"

"Well any guy but Dimitri Belikov," I started to cry again. "He doesn't want me."

"Snap out of it!" She said. "You need to get a hold of yourself. You're too good for him. Now, come on, start over again."

"I have a nice body," I stared at my legs in the mirror.

"Yes,"

"And nice skin,"

"Definitely."

"And a cute button nose," I said, smiling in the mirror. "My teeth are blinding white, too."

"Now tell yourself something you feel from deep down inside."

"I want to jump Dimitri's bones?"

"No, not that," Lissa shook her head. "Something about yourself. Something that makes you feel better."

"Okay," I took a deep breath and exhaled. Gazing into my own brown eyes in the mirror, I ignored Lissa and spoke directly to myself, "I am beautiful."

Lissa beamed at me. "Say it again, girl!"

I smiled, truly happy. "I am beautiful."

"Again,"

"I am Rose Hathaway and I am beautiful and perfect in my own little way!"

My best friend squealed and ran over to crush me into a fierce hug. "You did it!"

"I did it," I whispered.

Lissa pulled back and smiled widely, those petite arms still wrapped firmly around me. "How do you feel?"

"Better."

And I meant it.

1 week later:

If it weren't for my friends I don't know what I'd do. They were the reason I was healing so fast. As each day passed by, the pain and rejection Dimitri had caused me faded until it was pushed to the back of my brain. It was very easy to ignore.

I hadn't seen Dimitri at all since that day in the gym. I knew he was avoiding me. In a way, I was grateful. I needed to be strong and seeing him right now...well, let's just say one person only has so much strength.

A bigger part of me missed him though. I yearned to see that long and lean body, his masculine face, that silky brown hair, those breathtaking smiles that made my day, and finally…his dark brown eyes. Oh, God. How much I missed looking into Dimitri's eyes. My chest tightened.

I shook my head and took a deep breath.

After much debating with my own mind, I decided to accept Mason's picnic offer, I needed to get my mind busy and off of him.

At breakfast, we agreed to meet just off the right side of campus where the security fencing is shorter and easier to get across. Apparently that's the go-to spot for couples who need to get away for a little, ahem, alone time.

We were to meet right before sunset, that way there'd still be enough light to get back home after our little trip. I didn't want to be wondering around at night with the murderer on the loose.

It was starting to get really cold at night so before leaving I made sure my black cardigan was wrapped snugly around my body. I slipped out of my window, being careful not to make a sound. Curfew was about an hour ago, so no one should be out and about.

I heard a faint shuffling sound and my breath caught. I did not need a teacher to catch me right now; I only had so many possessions Dimitri could take away from me.

I saw fiery red hair approaching me and I relaxed, it was just Mason. An evil grin was plastered on that adorable face of his and his smile was contagious. We both looked like little kids doing something they know their mothers wouldn't approve of.

He shifted his weight and I noticed a large pack hanging from his back. It was probably loaded with God-knows-what. Candles? A romantic setting? Did he even consider this a date?

I sighed. I really hope not.

I followed him through the forming shadows of the campus buildings. We were careful to be quieter than the dead. When we reached the fence I could've sworn I saw something move behind the administrative building.

"Relax, Hathaway! You act like you've never snuck out before. Don't worry; it's probably a rabbit or something." He whispered, earning a smack in the back of the head from me.

"Oh, believe me; I've snuck out loads of times. Everyone thinks I'm so innocent, but they ain't seen anything yet!" Mason had to stick his fist into his mouth to keep from laughing out loud. I had to admit, the idea of me being innocent was pretty funny.

When we reached the fence, Mason declared the gentleman should go first, and with a gallant bow, up he went.

He swiftly got to the top, and dropped his bag with a quiet thud. He leapt off and was as silent as ever as he waited for me on the other side. The fence here was the shortest because it was in a pretty deserted spot of the campus. It was still a good 7-8 feet tall though. A memory of the rope climb flashed thorough my head and I had to literally shake it away.

My hand shakily grasped the cold chain link and I shoved my fear of heights to the back of my head along with Dimitri. I hoisted myself up, and heard the soft clink of the shaky metal. Soft words of encouragement filled the air as I got closer and closer to the top. I was glad Mason didn't mock me for my fear of heights; I can only imagine what Christian would've said. Once I reached the top, I stared down at my partner in crime and froze.

"It's okay, Rose," he soothed, "If you jump, I'll catch you."

"You swear?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"I swear I won't let anything happen to you."

I won't let anything happen to you. That's almost exactly what Dimitri had told me. Would he approve of me and Mason? Or would he call me a child? I'd say the latter.

Knowing Mason wouldn't let me down, I held my breath, and jumped. I felt the cold air whoosh around, and then Mason's strong arms under mine.

"See?" he breathed, his warm breath tickling my face. "I caught you."

I looked up into those blue eyes of his and smiled, aware of how close our bodies were.

"My hero!" I sang, kissing his cheek and flinging my arms around his neck.

Soon we were both laughing and slowly making our way to a clear area in the woods. We (and by we, I mean Mason) had to cut through a ton of trees and brush to make it to our desired spot.

When we finally got there, Mason laid down a giant baby blue quilt along with our dinner—ham sandwiches, potato chips, a couple cans of soda, and some chocolate chip cookies. I approved.

"You know me so well, Ashford." I grinned up at him.

This got a chuckle and an eye roll.

The picnic was nice. I admired Mason's efforts to make me comfortable and the way he was always sweet to me. I relaxed about halfway through my second sandwich when I realized he wasn't trying to make any romantic advances. I knew I wouldn't be able to handle that. He was just being a great and caring friend. And that's exactly what I needed right now.

DPOV:

1 week later:

"He's getting more daring," Detective Smith said, jotting words down on his notepad.

"He?" I asked slowly.

"No way a woman could do this," He shook his head and took a drag of his cigarette. The wind picked up the smoke and drifted it towards me; the bitter tobacco smell invaded my nostrils. I made a sound of disgust and started coughing.

"Are you sure about that?" I asked around my fits of coughing, wincing each time the shattered bone in my nose moved. "I am sure a woman is capable of this."

"Anything is possible," Detective Smith shrugged and stomped on his cigarette. I instantly felt relieved. "But it is highly unlikely."

"I wouldn't eliminate females from your line of suspects just yet."

"Of course not."

"Good, I'm glad we're clear." I nodded.

I glanced down at the dead body. My stomach tightened and I bit back the bile that threatened to rise in my throat. The second known murder victim, Camille Conta, lay at my feet. Her sunshine hair spilled out across the green grass, her pale blue eyes open and blank. Her skin was deathly pale, whiter than the snow floating around in the freezing winter air.

Camille's body looked sickeningly…alive. You can thank the temperature for that. Cold will preserve the body and evidence longer than the heat will, like meat you throw into the freezer—it stays fresher longer.

She was seventeen, so young that she hadn't even had a chance to live yet when her life was abruptly taken from her. I gritted my teeth and balled my hands into fists.

I needed to catch this murderer. And I needed to catch whoever it was before they strike again. I was indescribably angry with myself at the fact that I had failed to catch the culprit yet. By not catching them—or him, or her, or both, or whatever, I had not succeeded in keeping my students safe. And that was unacceptable.

I crouched down and gazed at the three distinctive purplish-blue rings around her neck.

"The cause of death was strangulation, much like Meredith's." Detective Smith said.

"Obviously," I replied dryly.

My eyes traveled from her face, to her naked chest. It was open and hollow. Her rib cage sawed open, her insides—or what used to be her insides—were visible and red.

Camille's red and pink flesh was exposed, muscles ripped and torn, her heart missing. I couldn't imagine the pain she had gone through.

And that's when the vomit came. I hurled forward and empty the contents of my stomach into a nearby bush. My abdomen continued to convulse even after nothing came up. I was dry heaving.

It took a lot to get me to vomit; I rarely did so, even if I'd seen someone else get sick in front of me. The last time I remembered I vomited, I was ten years old, just a kid. I'd came home from school to find my mother sprawled on the kitchen floor unconscious, fresh bruises displayed all over her face, blood leaking from her nose and the corner of her mouth. She had been beaten badly at my father's wrath. I had believed she was dead at the time. That was one of those situations that instantly make you sick.

This was another.

Stan came up behind me and patted my back in understanding. He wordlessly handed me a plastic cup filled to the brim with ice-cold water. I nodded my thanks and took the cup. The first sip I used to rinse out the putrid taste from my mouth, I swirled the water in my mouth, and spit it onto the dirt.

I greedily drink down the rest of the cup, my throat working and convulsing with each sip of the crisp, cool water. The burning in my throat subsided and I instantaneously felt relieved.

Detective Smith eyed me strangely. "You gonna be okay, boy?"

"Dimitri," I corrected. "And yes, I'll be fine. I just had a moment of weakness."

He choked on laughter. "Oh, the irony."

My irritation spiked. I worked on keeping my guardian mask in place. "I do not understand what you mean by that, Detective."

"I've been on the force for twenty five years," He lit another cigarette and took a drag before speaking again. "My first job, I was a police officer in Chicago." He shook his head and laughed somewhat bitterly. "I've seen many things in my years, many things no one should ever have to see. It'll mess up your head, if you let it."

I nodded, not really listening to a word he was saying. All of my attention was focused on the girl near my feet. I continued my search of her dead body. My eyes traveled past her bare chest to her naked stomach and legs. Blood. Blood. And more blood. Bright Cherry red liquid spilled across the blinding white snow. I decided right then and there, that I hated those two colors.

Camille's stomach had been sliced open. I spotted intestines amongst more hollowness. More vital organs removed.

"This case is pretty much identical to victim number ones," Detective Smith explained. "The heart, liver, kidneys, and the pancreas have been removed."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. "Stop it. I've heard all that is needed to be heard."

I suddenly wondered what it would be like to find Rose's body dumped out here, in the middle of the campus, naked and humiliated. Her body sliced up like some animal. Those beautiful brown eyes blank and lifeless, staring at everything and nothing.

I threw up again.

"Well, we might not have any new leads yet," The detective said. "But one thing is for sure: the killer is getting more daring, careless…and desperate."

"Why would you assume that?" I swallowed another cup of water.

"The body was dumped during the day," he said. "If that's not stupid, then I don't know what is. Whoever it is, they're getting riskier and riskier. I say it's only a matter of time before we catch this maniac."

Although not entirely convinced and satisfied by his words, I slowly nodded my head up and down. "Good."

"I don't want you talking to her anymore." I spoke rapidly in Russian to my mother, Olena. The silver cell phone pinched between my ear and shoulder as I pulled on my jeans.

I heard her long, drawn out breath. "Dimka, I don't really have a choice."

"Of course you do," I fought the snort that dared to escape my mouth. Little things like that ticked off my mother. It was a major sign of disrespect in her household and she wouldn't have it.

"You don't understand, son." Mama said. "It is more complicated than you think it is."

"Then explain it to me," I glanced at my watch. "Dinner's not for another forty-five minutes. I have plenty of time."

I was met by dead silence, and then a moment later, she spoke in a defeated tone. My mother knew I wasn't one to give up or handle situations lightly. "Natasha, well, she's a very special and complicated girl."

The snort escaped my mouth involuntarily.

"Dimka!" she scolded.

I smiled so widely that my cheeks ached. "What, mamma? What did I do?"

"You know exactly what you did," She said around laughter.

"I'm sorry," I pursed my lips to keep from laughing. "Please continue on with what you were saying before I rudely interrupted you."

"She's emotionally unstable." Mama said. "This woman, she needs help. And not the kind of help I can offer her with hour's long conversations on the telephone."

"I'm sorry,"

"Don't be sorry, son." she said. "I am the one who answers when she calls."

"That you do, that you do."

"Natasha needs professional help, Dimitri." At the use of my full name, I took it as a bad sign. I knew my mother was being serious. "I'm afraid she will end up hurting herself."

"She's a grown woman," I spoke in a clipped tone. "We are no longer engaged. I have no obligations to her. Tasha can take care of herself."

My mother made a sound of disgust. "I raised you better than that, Dimitri. You should be ashamed of yourself."

I sighed.

A minute of silence passed between us. The only sound I was able to hear was her soft breathing and I know that she is deep in thought.

"I just want you to help her out," Mama finally said. "No matter how little the gesture is—saying good morning, taking her to lunch, or simply talking with her. Just, I don't know, try and make her feel better about herself. I cannot take this anymore, it's been weighing so heavily on me, Dimka. She calls me every night crying about how much she misses being with you—"

"Fine," I cut her off. "I'll do it."

"What?" She asked in disbelief. When have I not done something she's asked of me? If my mother were to say jump, I'd say how high.

"I'll talk to Tasha and see what I can do." I rubbed my forehead in irritation. The tension in my neck and shoulders made me even more tired than I already was. I needed a break from work. I was thankful that I had the next four days off because of holidays and fall break.

My mother thanked me repeatedly, followed by excited squeals and hard laughter. The relief in her voice made me smile and I was glad that I chose to help Tasha out. I'd do anything to make Mama happy.

Sometime later, I told her I had to get off of the phone because I was running late for dinner.

"Happy Thanksgiving, baby," Mama said. "I pray for your health and happiness everyday."

"Don't worry about me," I sighed and rubbed my eyes tiredly. "Just pray that we catch this killer."

"I do, Dimka, I do." I heard a tremulous note in her voice.

"What is wrong, Mama?" I asked, instantly becoming concerned. "Please tell me. I am worried about you."

"Don't be troubled with me, Dimka." She sighed sadly. "You just worry about keeping yourself safe, okay?"

I nodded, realized she couldn't see it, and reluctantly say, "Okay. I'll talk to you soon, Mama. I miss you."

"I miss you, too, my son." She whispered. "I love you."

"Love you, too."

I slammed the phone shut and slipped the tiny device into my pocket.

Today had been one hell of an emotional rollercoaster, and I wasn't sure how much I could take before I snapped. I prayed I could make it through this dinner.

Victor Dashkov's estate was approximately fifteen minutes from the academy, so I didn't think I would have trouble finding it. The directions Tasha had given me were moderately simple. The area was a good distance from the other houses; say several miles or so, with large pine trees that kept the place hidden and quiet.

I admired his taste. I always wondered what it would be like to settle down with a woman, buy a rural home, have a few children, and live the rest of my life in quiet tranquility.

I immediately scolded myself when all I pictured was Rose and our children as my future. I was constantly battling off my feelings for her. It was extremely tiresome always having some internal war going on within me.

After pushing my fantasies and selfish wants aside, I pulled up to the wrought iron gates and punched in the code I'd been given. They slowly spread open and I parked my SUV next to Victor's other cars—a silver Lamborghini, orange Ferrari, Porsche Carrera GT, and Vasilisa Dragomir's Mercedes Roadster.

As Rose would put it, I was entirely obsessed and fascinated with fast and expensive automobiles.

I'd been invited by Tasha—who was great friends with Victor—to this Thanksgiving dinner, and considering my family was in Russia and I had no other place to go besides the mess hall, I took her up on the offer.

I only hoped I didn't regret it later on.

RPOV:

Victor's house was nice and bigger than any other one I'd ever seen before. It was made out of red bricks and had dozens of windows—big, medium, and small. The grass and leafless bushes lay covered in a blanket of snow.

I was so preoccupied gaping at the mansion that I didn't pay attention to my footing; I slipped on a sheet of ice. Luckily, Andre's hand shot out and caught me around the waist before my ass made contact with the concrete ground.

"Whoa there, girl," He smiled down at me. "Take it easy."

"That ice came out of nowhere."

The corner of his mouth twitched and his jade green eyes sparkled with amusement. "I'll get uncle to have his servants put some salt out here immediately."

"You do that, rich boy." I said sardonically.

"Andre Dragomir!" That strong voice belonged to Eric—Lissa's father. "How many times have I told you not to flaunt your money around?"

The five of us laughed.

"I think you are referring to my good looks and charming personality, father," Andre shot back, his tone playful. "That is something I cannot control."

The two of them continued on with their banter while Rhea—Lissa's mother—just shook her head and laughed.

When we got to the door, I rang the doorbell and my best friend ran up to me. She linked her arm through mine. "They're not so bad, huh?"

"No, I don't know why I was so nervous to meet them," I shook my head. "I was expecting them to be rich snobs…but they're actually pretty cool."

Simultaneously, the two of us turned our heads to glance at the three of them. They all looked strikingly similar—platinum blonde hair, jade green eyes, pale skin, tall, slender bodies.

I swear they were like the Barbie version of the Adam's family.

"Andre's got the hots for you," Lissa whispered. "I can tell from the way he looks at you."

"Eh. He's not really my type."

"Do you even have a type?"

"Yeah," I shrugged. "Tall, dark and handsome. Loves anything cowboy related. Wears an army uniform. Russian. General. Is this ringing a bell, Liss?"

"Coming!" A male voice—who I believed belonged to Victor—shouted from inside the house. "Just one more moment, please. I wasn't expecting you guys to come so early!"

"It's fine, don't worry." Eric called out. "We'll be waiting; we're not going anywhere anytime soon."

"Yeah, we won't be if we freeze into icicles," Andre pulled his jacket tighter. "It's beyond cold out here."

I rolled my eyes. Guys can be so whiny sometimes. That's why women were chosen to give birth. Men wouldn't be able to handle it.

Lissa socked my arm. "Get your mind off of Dimitri, Rose! He doesn't want you."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. "I can't. He's stuck in my brain—just like my smartness is. He's not going anywhere."

"Oh, yes he is."

Wham.

My eyes snapped open. I rubbed the burning spot on my cheek where Lissa had just bitch slapped me.

Rhea gasped.

"Don't worry, Mom," Lissa smiled sweetly at her. "We were just playing around."

"What was that for?" I whispered yelled.

"I wanted you to focus on something else besides Dimitri," she answered. "Pain helps take your mind off of things for a moment, doesn't it? Would you like me to stomp on your foot, too?"

"What? No."

"Then forget about Dimitri and focus on having a good time at this dinner tonight," Lissa said. "Besides, you practically have all of the guys drooling over you in that dress. I've even caught my dad checking you out a few times."

She leaned forward and snapped the strap of the blood red dress I'd purchased at the mall a few weeks back. I had to admit, I did look smokin' hot. My chestnut hair was pinned into an elegant updo, my makeup minimal, and to complete the look, a pair of killer black pumps.

"Ew!" I covered my mouth. "No he is not!"

"Oh, yes he is." she smiled deviously.

"Hey, babe! That was so hot." Christian puffed, jogging up to us. "I saw you slap Rose from the gates and I have to admit…that was a complete turn on."

I gaped. Lissa blushed.

How could he have just said that in front of her parents and brother? I hope they kick the shit out of him.

Instead, Eric did something that made my jaw drop to the floor.

He reached forward, captured Christian into a head lock, and rubbed his knuckles against his raven black hair. It was a real father/son moment.

"That's my boy!" He grinned. "Where have you been?"

Eric released Christian. He stepped back, smoothed down his messy hair and white button up shirt before speaking again. "I had to walk here—"

"You had to walk here?" Eric demanded, shooting Lissa an angry glare. "He had to walk here? Why didn't you tell me? We could have picked him up."

She gulped. Christian was quick to diffuse the fire. "No, no. It's my fault, Eric. I wasn't sure if I was coming, so I told her not to worry about me. Don't yell at her."

Eric visibly relaxed and exhaled. "Very well. It doesn't matter how you got here. What matters is that you're here, with your family, and we get to spend the holidays together."

Christian gave Eric a genuine smile—one without cockiness or sarcasm, just pure happiness. It was so rare to see him that way. He only shared smiles like that with Lissa. "Thank you."

Christian gave Rhea a hug and patted Andre on the back in a manly gesture. They exchanged their sweet greetings before Christian ran up and gave Lissa a kiss on her pink frosted lips.

"You look beautiful, babe." He glanced down at her snow-white dress.

"Thank you." Lissa lit up like a Christmas tree. Oh, the joys of being young and in love.

A slow, up-to-no-good grin twisted at his mouth. Christian bent down and whispered in her ear, "I cannot wait until I rip that dress off later—"

The door suddenly flung open, revealing a flustered looking Victor in an impeccably fitted black suit. He plastered a smile on his face. "Welcome to my home! Now come in, come in. You all must be freezing out there."

Lissa walked in first and pecked him on the cheek. "It's so good to see you uncle."

"The pleasure is all mine, dear."

"Where is MaryAnne? May we see her?" Lissa asked.

Victor face pinched in worry, probably at the thought of his ill wife. Poor guy. That's how the universe works though—bad things happen to good people.

"No, unfortunately you cannot, dear. Mary has just been through a terrible session of chemo therapy," He sighed and rubbed his forehead, the sadness was clear in his green eyes. "No one is allowed to be by her right now except for the nurse."

Lissa frowned and nodded sympathetically. "I am so sorry, uncle."

"Yeah, me too," I gave Victor an awkward half-hug and stood beside my best friend.

"Thank you. But please, let's not bring down this wonderful dinner I have planned with such gloom talk."

"Mmkay." I was more than willing to agree to that. Talking about Victor's sick wife was uncomfortable for me, considering I wasn't part of the family.

"I must say, Rosemarie," Victor said. "You look absolutely stunning."

"Thanks, Victor."

"Uncle," he corrected. "Please, call me uncle."

"Uncle," I nodded. "Got it."

The rest of them shuffled in and after our long drawn-out greetings, Victor ushered us into the dining room. He disappeared into the kitchen after explaining that he had to check how the food was coming.

"I can't believe that bastard has chefs!" I said to Lissa and Christian, who were currently huddled in the corner making out.

Lissa pulled back and Christian made a sound of protest.

"Oh, keep it in your pants big boy," I said. "We're at a dinner party and her parents are here."

"They don't mind, believe me," Christian said. My face scrunched up in disgust. "They just want Lissa to start pumping out babies. Isn't that correct, honey?"

My best friend giggled and I swear I wanted to slap her so hard. "Well, yes, you are. But he didn't mean it in such a blunt way."

"What? Why do they want you to have kids?" I asked. "You're only eighteen."

She shrugged. "Don't really know. Mom and Dad just want more little Dragomir's running around I guess—"

Lissa was caught off with a shiver as Christian ran his hands up and down her shoulders. She closed her eyes in pleasure.

Christian grinned wickedly at me.

"Stop it!"

He dropped his hands. "Sorry," He looked anything but. "I guess I just have that affect on ma' lady."

Three servants exited the kitchen with large trays in their hands.

"Appetizers!" I squealed excitedly and waved at the male servant. He smiled and walked over.

"Ohh, shrimp and cocktail," I rubbed my hands together before grabbing a tooth pick and plopping one into my mouth. "Yum, yum! My favorite!"

Beside me, Lissa whispered to the handsome caterer, "Food makes her happy."

I ignored her.

I had nearly cleared half of the shrimp when Tasha and Dimitri arrived. I instantly lost my appetite.

I felt a stab of jealousy. She looked so beautiful in her royal blue dress. I bet Dimitri had run his fingers through that shiny black hair before, probably even pulled on it a few times—if ya know what I mean.

I suddenly didn't feel so pretty in my satin red dress.

Christian happily ran over to greet his aunt.

"Aren't you going to say hi?" Lissa asked.

"Nope." I snagged a champagne glass from a passing caterer. Much to my utter disapproval, it was only sparkling cider. I was hoping for something stronger. Something that would help make this dinner less painful.

Lissa gave me a sad smile and walked over to greet Dimitri and Tasha. I knew she was only being polite, but some part of me still wished that she had stuck by my side and ignored those buttheads.

I caught Dimitri's eye for half a second, his gaze was appreciative as those dark eyes traveled up and down my body. I quickly looked away. I wasn't going to let him have the satisfaction of seeing me shiver.

DPOV:

I gritted my teeth and ripped my hand from Tasha's.

That red dress…that damn dress…

It looked so good on Rose.

Why did my jeans suddenly feel tighter?

RPOV:

"You've got a pretty nasty gash on your eyebrow, Uncle Viktor." Lissa said. "Let me have a look at it."

He grabbed her hands and gently pushed her away. "I assure you I am fine, dear. It was just Bruce. That cat is so full of energy."

"Oh, gosh darn!" She screamed so loud that it captured the attention of everyone in the room. "I was so going to bring Oscar. I cannot believe I forgot him."

"Oscar?" Victor asked curiously.

"A kitten," Lissa smiled. "Rose gave him to me as an early birthday present."

"That is very kind of you, Rosemarie." Victor said. "Perhaps we can arrange a play date for the two of them. I'm sure Bruce would be delighted to have a friend over."

"I'm sure he would be." I mumbled. There must have been attitude in my tone because Lissa elbowed me in the ribs.

After nodding, Victor ran back into the kitchen to check on the food again.

"Look at all his ugliness," Lissa scowled. She was staring straight at Dimitri and Tasha across the room; the two were apparently in an entrancing conversation.

I rolled my eyes and took a sip of sparkling cider. "He's not ugly."

"No, you're right. He's not." Her jade green eyes traveled up and down Dimitri, searching for any flaws. Yeah, pointing out his non-existent problems was going to make me feel better about myself. Note the sarcasm.

"Well, he's really tall," Lissa mumbled. "Maybe too tall. Just look at those hideous long legs…"

"I think his lean legs are muy delicioso."

"I didn't know you speak Spanish,"

"I don't."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Well, okay, maybe his legs aren't his problem….after all, they do look pretty powerful. Just imagine what he would look like naked." Lissa gnawed on her manicured finger nail, those green eyes were glazed over as she stared at Dimitri a moment too long.

"Damn it, Lissa! You're sooo not helping," I exclaimed. "Don't undress him with your eyes."

She jumped and shook her head before turning her attention towards me. "I wasn't undressing him with my eyes."

"Yes, you were."

Lissa shrugged, "So what? I think he's single. Let a girl have a little fun." She said defensively.

"You're supposed to boost my self esteem and confidence by making fun of Dimitri," I placed my hand on my hip. "Not raping my mentor with your gaze."

"Fine, what about his hair," Lissa said.

"What about his hair?" I asked.

"It's too long. It practically reaches his shoulders," She snorted and made a funny face. "It's like: Come on, Dimitri! Get a haircut already, will ya? You're not a girl!"

"I love his hair."

"Me too."

"Okay, this is not working," I finished off my sparkling cider and left it on the table.

"You're probably right," Lissa mumbled. "I'm sorry, Rose."

I shook my head and waved her off. "Nonsense. Don't be."

The kitchen doors flew open, revealing Victor and a few of the chefs. "The food is ready everyone. Shall we enjoy this feast?"

The first chef set the massive and juicy-looking turkey onto the table.

I was more than ready to enjoy this feast.

DPOV:

Seeing Rose at Thanksgiving dinner, in that dress, it was all too much for me. I couldn't handle it anymore. My brain was practically poisoned with Rose. My mind revolved around her constantly, just like the earth spins around the sun and the moon.

I needed to get my mind off of her—even if it was just for a second. I didn't like to use women, but I believed this situation was an exception. And Tasha was more than willing to satisfy my needs.

I laid her naked body down on my bed and she kissed me. The whole world faded away and all of my attention went to her. Tasha. I put my hands on familiar parts of her body, pressed my naked flesh against familiar territory…and I gave into temptation.

Earlier that next morning, I saw Tasha's naked body snuggled into my chest and I felt absolutely disgusted and ashamed of myself. Sure, I was a man and I had needs…but I should have shown more control.

I used a woman for sex. I was no better than my father.

But seeing Rose in that dress…that was my undoing. I lost it.

A cold shower was just what I needed.

After the shower, I dressed in my uniform and headed off to the gym. Luckily, Tasha was still asleep when I exited my apartment.

Today Rose and I would resume our morning and even practices. I still couldn't believe it had been two whole weeks since I'd kissed her. My mind was still reeling from the memories.

I tried my best not to think of what I did to Rose in the gym that day, the way I had left her there. The anguished expression and her face full of tears still haunt me. But I did what was necessary and I cut off all ties to her. I could tell she was becoming too emotionally attached to me, as I was to her…and that issue needed to be stopped.

I took a deep breath before opening the gym doors. Surprisingly, my student was early for practice today.

"I surrender," Rose said. "I'm holding up the white flag. I know what we did was wrong. And will never happen again—no matter how much I wish it would. But I've come to terms with the fact that you and I can't be together. I'm sad about it, but I accept it. And I know I'm rambling right now…but I have to get this off of my chest."

She inhaled deeply, apparently out of breath from her little speech. "I just want us to move on, Dimitri. I hate when we fight. Can we, I don't know….be friends?"

Although a part of me was proud that she was acting so mature and grown up, a bigger part of me, that suspiciously felt like my heart, was distraught at the thought of her not wanting me anymore.

It was a selfish thought. I immediately shoved it to the back of my brain with all my other illogical thoughts.

I walked over and pulled her close to me, whispering how much I cared about her in Russian. I wrapped my arms around her and I could tell she was stunned by her stiff posture. She relaxed a minute later and hugged me back. Her body was so warm and soft against mine….she felt so right. In a strange way, I felt home again. I caught the aroma of her skin and perfume mingled together; it smelled like freshly baked vanilla cookies. I love cookies.

"Is that a yes or a no?" She chuckled.

"Yes. I'd love that, Roza."

"Thank you." Her voice was husky and raw with emotion.

"Where's your white flag?" I teased.

"Hmm?" She hummed confused.

"You said you were waving the white flag," I paused. "Let's see it. I want to see you surrender."

"Oh, right," Roza pulled back and I immediately felt the loss and hollowness return to by body. I gazed at her longingly as she ran over and searched for something in her duffel bag.

Roza ripped out a red jacket and swung it above her head, spinning circles into the air.

"That's not white,"

"It's good to know that you're not color blind," Roza replied sarcastically.

The corner of my lips quirked in amusement.

"Look, it's the best I can do." Her hands settled down on the beautiful curves of her hips.

Stop it, Dimitri!

I gritted my teeth and cursed loudly in Russian.

"You know," Rose said. "It's rude to speak Russian in front of people who do not understand the language. If you're going to talk shit about me, do it in English so I know what you're saying."

"First of all, don't tell me what to do. I am your teacher," I smiled at the angry look that passed her face. "And second of all, I was not talking shit about you."

She started laughing uncontrollably.

"What?" I asked, getting rather annoyed.

"Nothing." Rose bit her lip. "I just find it funny when you swear."

"I am glad I amuse you." I started setting up the sparring mats and ordered her to begin her warm-up stretches. She obliged.

"Hey, Comrade," Rose smiled mischievously. I equally loved and hated that mysterious and sexy look on her face. I knew she was up to no good.

"Yes?" I asked cautiously.

"I have something that's white that I could use as the flag."

"And what would that be?"

"My bra," The shrilling giggles that came out of her mouth was adorably cute and I found myself smiling from seeing her in such a good mood. "I could rip it off and swing it around, if you'd like."

My eyes widened. I cleared my throat and glanced at her. "Absolutely not."

My ultimate fantasy flashed before my eyes. Roza in nothing but a soaked white t-shirt. Her thick hair wild and wet, sun kissed skin glistening with a thousand diamond-like droplets of water, those mile long legs wrapped tightly around my body.

I quickly blinked the mental picture away.

This woman is going to be my undoing.

"You're impossible," Rose threw her hands up and mumbled something about how I never let her have any fun.

"So are you."

Maybe we weren't best friends now, but I believed the two of us had a mutual understanding. It was something. And something is always better than nothing.