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

The original content, ideas and intellectual property of this story are owned by Ms. Belikov. Please do not copy, reproduce, or translate without express written permission.

Previously on Saving Me...

I limped into the living room and collapsed on the couch. "I'm still mad at you."

Dimitri shrugged and did a brief check of the apartment, set his keys and coat down, and headed for the kitchen. He retrieved a bottle of water from the fridge and downed the entire thing. "Fine. I cannot change how you feel."

"Is that all you have to say?"

"Yes."

"I need more than that."

"What do you want me to do, Rose?" He asked, exasperated. "I'm sorry that you had to find out the way you did, but to be honest, I don't regret it. If I had to do it again, I would."

"You would lie to me again."

"If it was for your better good, yes. I wouldn't hesistate."

I threw my hands up, drained of energy and anger. The sting of hurt and betrayal still ran strong in my chest, but for some reason, I couldn't find it in me to stay mad at him. I probably would have done the exact same thing if I was him.

"Do you think I'll get those god awful night terrors and panic attacks again?" I stood up and walked over to him, frowning. I flinched when he touched his thumb to my lips to smooth it out, and something dangerous flashed in his gaze.

"Don't ever do that again."

"Don't ever lie to me again."

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, as if he had a pounding headache. "Fine, deal. God, you've got to be the most stubborn woman I've ever met."

"But that's what you love about me."

Dimitri made a doubtful noise. "I could take it or leave it."

"You're an asshole." I said, not able to help the huge smile on my face. "Now I'm not going to allow you to penetrate me."

"Yes, you will." He said.

"You're pretty confident about that, buddy, aren't you?"

"Yes, because I'm the boss."

"Excuse me?" I asked, laughing. "I don't think so. I'm the one who wears the pants in this relationship, and we all know that."

Dimitri pressed his hard body against mine, and every inch of me came alive. There was no other choice but to surrender to him, body, heart, and soul—it was purely instinctive. In a very deep, accented voice that lit me on fire, he said, "I'm dominant, and you like that…a lot. When I want something, I take it."

My IQ had not only dropped into the single digits, it was fast heading towards negative numbers. A strangled sound escaped my throat, the noise pure desire and desperation.

That dark head leaned down to my neck. His silky hair fanned over my skin, as soft as his fingertips were on the erratic pulse of my throat. Goosebumps tightened all over when he whispered in my ear, "I will have you where I want you, and when I want you."

"And when will that be, big boy?" I somehow managed to say.

"Right here," Dimitri lifted me on top of the kitchen counter. I gasped when he yanked my jeans down. "Right now."

Then his mouth was on mine, rough and controlling and demanding. All of our problems and differences melted away, along with the rest of the world. It was just the two of us, and right now, that was exactly what I needed.

I awoke the next morning feeling like I'd been to heaven and back. My body ached in places I never knew had existed, but I was also in utter bliss. I stretched out all my stiff limbs like a cat and groaned in pleasure, "Ughhhhhhh, yeahhhh. That's what I'm talking abouttttttt."

Dimitri was snoozing beside me in bed, one heavy arm held tight around my waist, one long leg hooked over my bare thigh. I smiled. Even in his sleep, he guarded me like I was some kind of precious treasure.

My breath caught at the sight of his naked form. He was perfection—there was no other way to explain it. His lean, graceful body was nothing but valleys and mountains of hard muscle. His skin was a deep shade of bronze that contrasted well with my olive tone. As saliva gathered in my mouth, I couldn't control myself and gave into my urges.

I straddled him and played my hands across his broad shoulders. His skin was smooth and hot beneath my palms. When he didn't stir, I frowned and pressed my mouth to his. Then led a trail of kisses down his thick throat and mouthwatering chest.

Hmmm. Dimitri still didn't wake up. Strange. The man was so alert twenty-four-seven he practically slept with his eyes open.

Then realization went off like a light-bulb.

One side of my mouth tipped up in a cocky smirk. I felt like I was on top of the world. "I guess I did a real number on you last night huh, big boy?"

Carefully climbing out of bed, I slipped on his boxers and tank top, indulging in the scent of aftershave that clung to the cotton fabric. After brushing my teeth and splashing cold water on my face, I headed for the kitchen with one mission in mind: Make my sexy Russian god breakfast in bed.

Fifteen minutes later, things didn't go as smoothly as I'd hoped.

As the smoke alarms went ape shit, I ripped the box of Chewy cookies from the microwave, screamed when some of the melted chocolate chips scalded my hand, and hurled them across the room. "You son of a bitch!"

The box slammed against the kitchen wall and crispy, burnt dessert splattered everywhere. It was like a cookie mass murder. I ran over and tried to fan the flames out with a hand towel, which only made them grow stronger and angrier.

"Yeah, well…Fuck you, too." I coughed, smoke clogging my throat. My feet stomped on the package, and finally, the fire was extinguished. Thank God. My panic eased and I exhaled in relief.

Dimitri flew into the room, buck naked. His gun was at his side. "What the hell is going on in here?" Those blazing eyes scanned the room, my chocolate splattered, disheveled clothes, and the cookie massacre on the wall. The tension drained from his body and he set his gun down on the counter. "What did you do." he asked, exasperated.

"I tried to bake you cookies." I said innocently, in a small voice. My bottom lip stuck out in a pout. "Sowwy."

"You don't bake cookies in the microwave."

"I know that now."

He strode over and picked up the destroyed package.

"Be careful, that's hot!"

Giving me a dry look, he inspected it. "And you certainly don't put tin-foil in the microwave."

"There isn't tin-foil in there—oh, wait. Yeah, there is. Didn't notice that."

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose before exiting the room. Several seconds later, the shrieking smoke alarm cut off, and the urge I had to murder something went away.

"I leave you alone for five seconds," Dimitri said, "and you nearly burn our home down."

"It was longer than five seconds," I pointed out. This earned me an eye roll.

Angry, I jabbed my finger at his chest. "I was only trying to make you breakfast in bed like a good, loving girlfriend."

"I appreciate the thoughtfulness," he said, grabbing my finger and putting it back at my side. "But I value our lives more than raw eggs and bacon."

My eyes snapped over to the frying pan on the stove. "It's not my fault it didn't cook. I turned on the burner, and nothing happened."

"You turned on the oven."

"Oh." I said. Duh. "Well, lose the damn attitude, you ungrateful bastard! I lost my cookies, burned my hand, and ruined my favorite pair of purple fuzzy bunny slippers. That's the last time I ever do anything nice for you, buddy."

By the time I was done with my rant, Dimitri was smiling from ear to ear, which only fueled my temper. "Shut up," he said, accent thick and heavy. "Just shut up. Because the more you run your mouth, the more I want to fuck it."

My heart dropped, and instantly my body turned into an inferno. The liquid desire raced through my veins, my blood going straight to all the appropriate places. Damn. How did this man control me like a puppet?

"I…I uh…Well, I uh," I said stupidly, desperately trying to grasp onto any coherent thoughts. "I uh…you're naked."

"You are quite the observer." Dimitri said, still grinning brilliantly. "We'll clean up the mess later. Get back in bed."

Some small part of the old Rose returned. "What if I don't want to?"

"That is not an option." He said, then promptly threw me over his shoulder and ran for our room. I giggled and screamed, but made no attempt to get away from him. Damn him, he was right—I loved to be dominated by Dimitri.

"That session was a bitch," I complained, massaging my knee. "It almost hurt more than when I actually broke my leg. With the cast removed, I thought the hard part was over. But this just chaps my ass."

"You're not quitting physical therapy," Lissa said sternly, beside me in the driver's seat. She made a left turn and we drove down the smooth, remote highway that cut through the Montana wilderness.

"You think Dimitri would ever let me do that? Hell no."

"You need to work on that potty mouth."

I clucked my tongue. "Old habits die hard."

"Clearly."

"What the hell is going on?" I demanded anxiously. Lissa looked as surprised as I felt.

"Those guys and trucks can't be here for my house, right?" I said. "No, they can't be. Oh, my god. They are. Pull over right here, Liss."

I jumped out her car as it slowed, cursing when pain shot up my leg. That didn't stop me. I sprinted up the gravel driveway that led to my childhood home. Men in gray uniforms moved the hell out of my way.

"Hey, what the hell are you doing, you sons of bitches! That's my futon, damn it!" I jumped up on top of the piece of red furniture the two men were carrying towards one of the four moving trucks. It fell to the ground with a loud thud.

"Are you crazy or stupid, woman?" The Hispanic one demanded.

"This is mine." I growled. "Don't touch it. And don't touch that! That's my mothers." I ripped a lamp from one passing by and cradled it protectively to my chest.

"Rose, darling?" Janine ran up, short legs going as fast as they could. "Why are you scaring all of my moving men?"

I glared at each and every one of them. They regarded me cautiously, like I was a wild animal. "They're not supposed to be here."

"I hired them," My mother told me, joining me on the futon. "And you bet your sweet bottom that I'm going to get what I paid for."

"Get rid of them."

"I can't do that."

"Why not?" I snapped, narrowing my eyes at her.

"Why don't you come inside, honey?" Janine patted my knee lovingly. "I'll make you some coffee and explain everything."

"Fine," I said, standing up. I pointed a finger at the small crowd of strangers. "But none of you move a thing until we get this situated."

My mother shrugged, knowing it was the best she was going to get from me. "I'm so sorry, guys. Take a break. Go for a long lunch. Thank you."

Inside, my mother handed me a fresh cup of vanilla coffee that smelled amazing. I cradled the mug between my palms and breathed in.

Janine sat down, the perfect picture of anxiety and stress. And then she decided to quit beating around the bush and get down to business. "I sold the house."

"The fuck?"

Those eyes widened to saucers.

"Oops, damn it—oops again. Sorry, mom."

Her gaze sparkled with laughter. "It's okay, sweetheart."

For a couple of minutes, we just sat there in silence, alone to our own thoughts. Sadness flooded me. Everything truly was falling apart. The last shred of my old, normal life had just been torn away from me. But still, I looked to my mother with respect and tried my best to be understanding. She had her reasons for what she'd done. I should just be grateful to have recently developed such a close relationship with her.

"Why are you moving?" I asked finally.

"Rose, baby girl, there is no easy way to explain this, but I'm going to try to do the best I can." Janine took a deep breath, slender fingers tightening around her mug anxiously.

The strain was so obvious on my mother, and it broke my heart. Severe stress and heartache could take a serious toll on your body, and considering how my mothers universe had been recently altered, I was afraid that it might end up killing her. She'd lost her husband, found out his true identity, and discovered that he'd kidnapped and abused their only child. No one could imagine what was going through her mind, no one could even pretend to understand what she was going through. There was only one thing I could do to help, and that was support her.

"I love you, mom," I told her, placing my hand over hers. "Stop holding back because you're worried about protecting me. I can handle it. I just want you to talk to me. Say what you're feeling, what you're thinking. I promise you that I will be okay."

"I can't stand being in this house a minute longer," Suddenly, something snapped inside her, and everything came pouring out. "He's all I see, Rose. He's all I think about. He's all I know. I need to change that, because it's eating me alive. And it never gets better; it just gets worse."

Janine stood up and paced the kitchen, delicate mouth trembling with the battle to keep control. "I still expect him to arrive home everyday and kiss me hello. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't prepare supper. For who? For what reason? I am all alone." she said, slapping her hand down on the granite counter. "That doesn't even begin to explain it, Rose darling. But it's not something you can put into words. It's like there's this bomb ticking inside of me, and each hour that passes, the ticking gets louder and louder and louder. And I know that if I don't get far away from this house, from all the memories and lies that I built my old life around, then I'm going to explode."

"Oh, mom," I stood up and put my arms around her. The instant her head rested against my shoulder, her body began to shake violently. I held her through all the tears she shed, through the sobs that shook her to the core, through all the anguished screams, through the raw, heartbreaking demands. One word never stopped spilling from her lips: Why?

Why us. Why did we deserve this. Why did he do what he did. Why had we never suspected a thing. Why couldn't things be different that way we could go back to the way things were before all of these horrendous occurrences shattered our entire existence.

It was like lead had been poured into my heart when she began cursing God for what had happened to her daughter. As a devoted Christian, my mother never swore, rarely drank alcohol, and spent her free time reading the bible. Sundays were spent in church, where I had been brought up and raised until I was old enough to make my own decisions.

I would never dream of my mother taking the lords name in vain, and I'm pretty sure she'd go into cardiac arrest if someone around her did.

"Mom. Mom. Mother. Mother." I gritted my teeth, flat-out furious. "Don't you dare talk like that. Ever. You hear me? You know better than that!" I said dangerously, all words growled out. "Now I know everything isn't all kittens and rainbows right now, but damn it, we still have each other. And that's more than a lot of people can say. Don't you ever doubt your faith. Now come on, Strawberry Shortcake…" I tossed Janine a roll of bubble wrap. "We've got some boxes to pack."

My demons were getting backhanded today, one after another. Smack, smack, smack, smack. And they hated every second of it. I was about to hit them with another devastating blow.

I pulled open the smooth glass door and entered the police station.

My instincts screamed at me to turn back and run far away from this horrible place. Wait, no. Those were my fears, not my instincts.

"You're such a fucking coward." I wasn't running away. It was time to stop putting this off and come face-to-face with one of my worst nightmares: reliving every detail of my time spent in captivity.

Despite feeling like I was going to die and wanting to be swallowed up into the earth, I clenched my hands into fists and kept my feet planted on the ground. "Don't being such a pussy, you pipsqueak!"

"Excuse me?" A large, mocha-skinned police officer approached me. Amusement gleamed in his green eyes. "Are you all right, ma'am?"

"Just bubbly. Where can I find detective…" I dug the business card out of my bra—what? These sweatpants didn't have pockets. I read the card aloud, "Wa-wi-will…detective will I am? What kind of name is that."

The police officer, M. JOHNSON his name tag read, threw his head back and gave a rich laugh. God, he had some gorgeous, brilliant white teeth. "Williams," he corrected, Georgia drawl thick. "Detective Williams is who you're looking for."

"Oh," I said stupidly. "Sorry, the card is faded and wet from being in my bra…ah, anyways, where can I find him?"

"He's off today." Johnson took a sip from his coffee. "Here," he walked over to the front desk and leaned over to snatch a pen and Post-it note from the dispatcher. He winked and gave the lady officer a dazzling grin. She looked like she wanted to throw her panties across the room and bang him right there.

I cleared my throat harshly, and both of them snapped back to attention.

"All right," Johnson began scribbling on the sticky note. "This is detective will I am's personal number. He eats, sleeps, showers, and shits with his cell attached to him. There is no way you will not be able to reach him. If he asks where you got the number, just tell him his nephew gave it to you."

I snatched the offered sticky note and rushed out the building, yelling a quick "Thanks" before the doors slammed shut behind me.

The apartment building was a short walk from the police station, but I took the long route to try and relax my mind and rising anxiety.

The sun had just set, turning the Montana night a deep bluish-orange. The chilly wind whipped passed me, tossing my tangled hair and clearing my senses. I pulled my jacket tighter in an effort to stay warm.

In reality, I was only stalling something inevitable.

Digging into my jeans, I pulled out my cell.

Missed Calls: Comrade (27)

Lissa (4)

Janine (1)

New Voice mails: Comrade (16)

New text messages: Comrade (11)

They would just have to wait.

I punched in the number Johnson had given me, and held the phone up to my ear. Detective Williams answered on the second ring.

"My name is Rose Hathaway." I made my voice crystal clear. "You have five minutes to ask me questions."

There was a long, shocked filled pause, followed by a rustling noise. Probably getting a notepad, a pen, the tape recorder. "Ms. Hathaway, you're difficult to get hold of—"

"Did you hear me?" I snapped. "I'm not here for chit chat. Clock is ticking."

"How did Mr. Mazur kidnap you? Were you asleep at the time? Injured?"

"I was caught off guard. On our fishing trip." I said. "I discovered something of his that he was hell-bent on keeping hidden. And he couldn't let that secret get out, so he had to take care of me. He hit me on the back of the head and I was knocked out cold."

"What exactly did you find?" The detective asked.

"A masquerade mask, the one with gold's and greens and purples. It was his signature one. And when I saw that, I knew instantly he was my captor."

"Did he ever rape you?"

I swallowed the lump that threatened to choke me. "He tried once, but I don't think he'd ever have the guts to actually go through with it."

Though I didn't see it, I could have sworn he raised his bushy brows. "Really? After all he's done? You seem so sure of that."

"Oh believe me, I know my father…" I paused to reconsider, "Or at least, I thought I did."

"Why do you think he did what he did? The purpose of it? I've been on the force for thirty-one years, and this case will never cease to boggle my mind."

"Because he's in love with me."

It sounded like he had been punched in the gut, "Excuse me, Ms. Hathaway?"

"Look, I don't know how to explain it any other way. It's like a sick obsession that grew stronger and stronger over the years. You have to remember my father was diagnosed with severe schizophrenia as a young child. Maybe he stopped taking his medication and went off into the deep end or something." I said. "Your time is running out, detective."

"Will you testify against him in court?" Williams demanded. "We have plenty of substantial evidence to lock the fucker up for life, but I believe your testimony will really seal the deal on his fate."

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes for a moment. Was I really strong enough to face my father again? Was I really strong enough to look him in the eyes and have an audience listen to every painful detail of my ordeal? Was I really strong enough to battle all the demons I'd spent years running and hiding from?

The thought alone horrified me. It felt like my skin was being ripped off my body so I could be exposed for the entire world to stare.

I took another deep breath and clenched my trembling hands into shaking fists. I knew what had to be done.

"Yes, I will testify against him." I slammed the cell shut.