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“Now, onto the second issue. What the fuck is wrong with you all—collecting random unconscious women and taking them home with you?” All heads turn toward Sergei. “Oh, don’t look at me!” He laughs, “I got mine years ago and I’m done.”
“You’re not falling apart, Asya.” I reach out and trace the line of her chin with my thumb. “You’re pulling yourself together.”
“No. You won’t.” I lightly pinch her chin. “And that’s okay. They’ll love you just the same. What happened to you, changed you, Asya. It would change anyone. Irrevocably. You need to accept
the person you’ve become. You’re still you. Changed, yes, but that shouldn’t keep you from the people who care about you.”
“I don’t regret it. I should. But I don’t.” Her arm comes around my neck as she presses her cheek to mine. “Does that make me a bad person?” “No. You defended yourself from a sexual predator who violated you in the most terrible way. In fact, you did him a favor.” “A favor?” “Yes. Because if you hadn’t killed him, I would have. And believe me, whatever you did wouldn’t even come close to what I would have done to him.” I squeeze the back of her neck lightly. “Come show me what you prepared. It’s the first time someone has cooked for me.”
“I wish my first time was with you,” I whisper. “It will be.” “Pasha, you know very well—” His hand covers my lips. “Your first time is going to be with me,” he says next to my ear. “All that from before, it doesn’t count. Do you understand?”
