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…

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.

"Where the hell have you been?" Dimitri exploded the instant I opened the door. "Do you know how many times I've called you? How many voicemails I've left?"

"Forty-seven," I answered, "and twenty-two."

His was so still I wasn't even sure he was breathing. "Is this a joke to you?"

"Does it look like I'm laughing?"

"Why didn't you tell me where you were going?" he demanded.

"Because I am an adult, I'm entitled to leave when ever I feel like it, and I don't need your fucking permission every time I decide to go somewhere."

I'll admit it; I may have some self-control issues. I'm extremely hotheaded. It seemed like whenever I was around a pissed off person I absorbed their pissed off energy. Nothing made me madder than when someone treated me like a child. That's exactly what Dimitri was doing right now, and it just wasn't flying with me. When I'm in a relationship with someone, being their equal is a necessity. I don't deal well with being dictated or looked down upon.

"Do you know how worried I was about you?"

"My captor is in jail, remember? No need to worry. I'm untouchable." I said, heading for our bedroom. He followed.

"Not to all the other sick fucks in this world," he said. "You're not magically safe now just because Abe is gone."

I exhaled through my nose, trying my best to calm down. "Stop being such a jackass. I don't need a babysitter." I tore my shirt over my head, ripped my boots and jeans off. Then headed for the shower and turned it as hot as it would go. Steam filled the room.

"Rose," his warm, calloused hands settled on my shoulders, and I nearly shivered. Melting into his touch, I turned around to face him. Eyes like black ice softened the moment I met his gaze. "I'm sorry."

"For what."

"For raising my voice to you. My mother raised me better." Dimitri said. "My emotions are all over the place when it comes to you. I'm impatient. I'm fearful. I'm angry. I'm jealous. I'm possessive. But most of all—I'm protective. I've never felt this way before, and I'm doing my best to adjust."

I smiled faintly, reaching up to caress his jaw. He leaned his face into my hand and closed his eyes.

"I just want you to trust me," I told him softly.

"I do trust you," Dimitri said. "It's the rest of the world I don't trust."

"You know, despite what I've been through," I said, "I don't let a weak emotion like fear rule my life. I am the one who's in control."

"Believe me, Roza, I know that."

"I love when you call me that."

He kissed me then, slowly and thoroughly. Kissing Dimitri Belikov made you feel like the most important and special person in the world. He had that kind of electric, overpowering charge to him that demolished all of your rational thoughts and made desire all you knew.

He was the one to pull away first and I moaned in protest, wanting that sensual, full, talented mouth back on mine. He rested his forehead against my own.

"Please let me know before you go somewhere—"

One long, graceful finger pressed against my lips when I began to protest, silencing me.

"Just so I can have some peace at mind," Dimitri said. "You have no idea the thoughts that were running through my head earlier when I couldn't get a hold of you."

"Which head?" I smirked.

"Rose."

"Okay, okay," I hissed, defeated. "If I decide to travel alone again, I will tell you what I plan on doing before I leave, whether I tell you in person, give you a call or text, or leave you a note."

"Good."

"But there's one condition," I said. "You cannot dictate where I choose to go."

He swore in Russian, and though I had no clue what he'd said, I translated it to something along the lines of Fuck that.

"I'm my own person, Comrade." I said. "Take the offer or leave it. Either way, I'm going to do what I want to do. The difference is, one way I will tell you what I'm up to, and the other I will leave you in the dark."

"Fine," A muscle in his jaw jumped. "But know this: If I feel you are in any danger, I will throw you over my shoulder and haul your ass out whether you like it or not."

Hmmm. We would talk about that later. "Deal." I said. I removed my bra and panties, surprised at how comfortable I was being naked in front of a man. I used to be horrified at the thought alone.

But then again, Dimitri wasn't just any man. He was my god.

Those eyes darkened. I headed for the shower.

He growled, "Get back here."

"You want me?" I said, tossing a seductive smile over my shoulder. "Come and get me."

He did indeed.

I used to think I was strong enough to handle anything. I used to think I was untouchable. I used to think I could conquer anything I set my mind to. I used to think I had it all.

That was until I woke up and realized what a selfish, sheltered girl I'd once been. If only I knew then what I know now. When I felt like things couldn't get any worse, I'd always remind myself that there was someone out there who had it much worse than I did. That thought usually helped me. This time it didn't.

They say God only gives you what you're strong enough to handle. He must have seriously overestimated me.

I stared at my father from beyond the glass.

Abe wore a standard orange jump-suit just like all the other inmates. He was clean shaven, looked surprisingly well rested, and wore a warm, friendly smile just for me.

All I saw was a monster.

My stomach churned violently. I nearly turned around and ran away.

Instead, I sat down and forced myself to pick up the phone. It clattered to the table, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. I picked it up again with wildly shaking hands. Swallowing on a painfully dry throat, I held it to my ear.

"Kiz…"

His chilling voice sparked outrage.

"Don't you dare call me that," I gritted my teeth. "You have no right."

Seemingly unfazed by my anger, he said in a friendly voice, "It's so nice to see you. You look wonderful. How's your mother been? She hasn't been returning my letters and I've begun to worry about her-

"Why didn't you die?" I demanded. "You were supposed to die! I killed you, damn it!"

"Obviously not," Abe said, giving me a machete smile. This man was demented to his very core. "I believe I'm still here because I am meant to be."

I barked out a harsh laugh, and had an out-of-body experience. I didn't recognize the girl who exploded out of her chair and snarled like a wild animal. I watched as she pounded her fists against the glass until they bled. She wanted vengeance so bad she could taste it.

"You want to know why you didn't die? I'll tell you." she screamed at him, chest pumping aggressively as she worked to draw oxygen into her lungs. "Death would be easy, painless. You deserve to suffer for what you did to my mother and I. You deserve to live with the guilt and the knowledge of what you've done. I hope your guilt fucking eats you alive and you go insane from it. When you leave this world, you will have a higher power to report to, and God will make sure that you burn in hell where you belong."

I felt my brain reconnecting with my body, coming down from the explosion that had went off when Abe had said he was destined to be here.

"I've come to terms with what I've been through, but trust me when I say your suffering is nowhere near over." I told him.

My heart decelerated. I took a deep breath and sat down again, ignoring the shocked people around me. There were times in your life when truly not giving a fuck was a necessity.

I looked Abe directly in eyes that were identical to my own when I spoke. "I try so hard to hate you, but it's impossible. I don't have room for it in my heart. You know what? I forgive you. I have to move on with my life, or else I will never have one. I can't accept it, but I've learned to live with it. It's a part of me that's made me who I am today, and I'm blessed to have the people who care and love me. That's more than you'll ever be able to say."

I left without looking back. That was the last time I ever spoke to my father.

1 year later…

"We the jury find the defendant, Ibrahim Mazur, guilty of false imprisonment with intent to do bodily harm, sexual assault, and aggravated assault and battery with a deadly weapon."

I burst into tears and threw my arms around my mother. Such utter, complete, and absolute relief flooded my body. Abe had just received a sentence of thirty years.

"It's over." Janine sobbed, stuffing her face in my shoulder. "It's finally over."