Nefretiri
The truth is smothering.
I've lived with the knowledge of what Ricky is for years, unable to tell anyone. Not that anyone would believe me. He's good at hiding that aspect of his life. No one would look at my husband and think he made money killing people, but he does, and I've carried the burden. That's why I couldn't leave him.
"An assassin," Ivan repeated what I said, but I couldn't look at him.
It was so much worse than he probably thought, and when he realized, he'd leave.
"Yes," I expected more questions or demands, but Ivan stayed silent.
Somehow, that was worse.
'Did you think he'd believe you?' the voices in my head mocked, laughing at me the way I knew they would. 'You've sat on this for so long, and the first person you told is the werewolf? You'll have to show him... all of it... Or he'll call you a liar and leave you to rot.'
"I... have proof..." It would have been safer if he had left, but I wanted him to believe me. I didn't want to hold onto this secret anymore. "I'm not lying."
"I believe you..." he looked surprised that I'd say that as if the thought had never crossed his mind. "I'm just thinking... When you say he's an assassin, what do you mean?"
"He kills people..." I couldn't help it. The sarcasm came out. "For money."
"No... Is he a government-contracted assassin? Is he part of the private sector? Or is he freelance? Knowing that will tell me a lot, including what he knows about combat and if I need to worry about the government coming after us. I'd need to make a few calls if that's what's going on."
It took me a minute to process what he was saying.
Ivan was taking this seriously. Not only that, he was planning ahead. I hadn't seen this side of him. This was something I didn't know how to name. A leader? A warrior? I don't know, but he's giving off a different vibe, and how comfortable I feel around it bothers me.
'Stockholm syndrome already? Aren't you pathetic?'
I felt that way.
Nothing had changed. Ivan was still kidnapping me, and I was allowing it, sacrificing my chance to get away from him when the cops showed up and now telling him about Ricky's secret. I'd be yelling at myself on the screen if this was a documentary. Sadly, I can't seem to stop myself. What if...? What if the bond was real?
'He's a wolf, not even human.'
'Would that be so bad? He's done so much for you, and it's only been a day.'
'He's trying to get between your legs. Why else would he do it? Once he's had you, he'll get bored, and you'll be tossed aside like trash. At least here, you have a title, and you're not homeless. Remember, you have nothing. A high school dropout with no skills worth mentioning. Huh, no wonder you let yourself get kidnapped. Not a single brain cell in that pretty little head.'
'That's Ricky talking, not you. This isn't the only thing you ever did. You had a life before. You were someone worth loving, someone special. Just because Ricky said you weren't, it doesn't mean it's true. Ivan sees it. He knows you're more than a broken little housewife. You could be something great.'
'Oh yes. The whore of the Alpha wolf. His mistress.'
'His Luna.'
'How is that any different than this?'
I don't know what a Luna is. The title must be important, but what does a Luna do? Wouldn't I just be what I am now, except for a wolf? Let's say I agreed to go with him; I had nothing to offer.
I was a high school dropout from New York who had no family, and the only things I had on my resume were cooking, cleaning, and knowing how to do a decent makeup tutorial.
'Once he finds out how worthless you are, he'll keep you as a breeder, popping out puppies like a good little bitch...'
"Nefra?" I snapped my head up, so lost in my thoughts I didn't hear Ivan speaking. "Baby? How did you find out?"
"I..." How did I explain this? It's a weird story, even for me. "We've moved around a lot. This is the longest we've been somewhere. We lived in Texas with his family and then moved to Houston. I went to the store, and when I came back, I heard him talking on the phone, but he was talking in Japanese."
That shouldn't have been strange, but it got stranger.
"I didn't know he spoke any other languages." I didn't know I understood Japanese, but I kept that to myself. "He didn't hear me come in, so I listened in. I thought he was talking to a girl... I wish he had been."
"But he wasn't?"
"No... He was setting up some kind of job. I thought I was paranoid; he took work at hospitals all the time, but then he told the guy the amount he wanted... and it didn't make sense..."
$50,000 wasn't your standard hourly rate for a nurse.
"Was that the only thing they talked about? Did they discuss locations, routines, deadlines?" Ivan seemed to know a lot about this. Was that something I should worry about?
"Yeah, they... talked about a deadline, but he heard me and... ended the call."
"What did he do?"
"He smiled... told me he was talking to a hospital that wanted him to fly out for a few days... He left the next day and didn't come back for three weeks..."
"Did he leave his mistresses with you?"
"No, he didn't leave them with me back then." Not until the second time I ran away. "I... the apartment was small, but he had this trailer at his parents' house. I went there one day and saw what he was hiding. That's when I ran away. I didn't want to be there anymore."
"But he found you?" Cupping my cheek, Ivan started making circles. It was a comforting gesture but one he needed just as much as I did.
"I didn't go far enough... I got a job in Arizona, but he found me. That's when... he started hurting me. I tried... to run again, but he always found me, and then we'd move to a different place and start over. Every time... he'd take something away. Sometimes, he comes home, and his clothes have blood on them. He lies and tells me they were from the hospitals, but I know they wouldn't let him bring them home because they were contaminated... But I was so scared... He has... trophies, and I didn't want to die, so I cleaned the clothes and stopped trying to figure anything out... I never told anyone... I didn't want anyone to get hurt because of me..."
'Hey," Ivan pulled me close, his forehead pressed to mine so I couldn't look away. "You did the right thing. You protected yourself. That doesn't make you guilty. Nefra... You're a prisoner, and he's the only one to blame..."
"I should've told someone..." I lived with that, but why I didn't say anything was more dangerous, especially for Ivan. "But no one would've believed me..."
"You said you have proof?" I nodded, dreading this possibility. "Where is it? Does he still have the trailer?"
"No... He... got rid of it when we moved from Texas..." My throat felt like I was swallowing marbles, and my chest hurt, but not because of my ribs. Whatever magic werewolves had eased so much of the pain. My leg didn't throb, and my cracked ribs didn't make breathing hard. Now, it was just panic. "It's... in the basement now. I'm not... allowed to go down there."
"Just show me how to get there, and I'll go by myself," his thumb swept across my cheek, wiping away the tears. He was so gentle and caring, never blaming me without knowing the truth.
What if I didn't show him and begged him to leave? The hell under us would stay a secret, and I could pretend for a little longer. But what happened when Ricky came for me? He would come. He always did. Ivan would be unprepared, and my shame would cost more lives.
"I... have to come with you."
Slowly, I got up, grabbed the bag, and led Ivan through the house to the den.
The door was something you'd miss unless you were looking for it. Some might mistake it for a storage closet or another bathroom, but sometimes innocent things hide lethal ones. The only warning was the 'keep out' sign I'd written myself to stop any of Ricky's friends from going down there, but I wonder if I did it to remind myself of what was there. Either way, it's the only obstacle. Ricky was so sure he had me under control that he didn't bother putting a lock or security to keep me out, and he was right. I only went down there once and never again until now.
"You don't have to..." Ivan grabbed my hand as I reached for the door, his shirt clinging to his body. I liked wearing it; the worn material felt soft against my skin, and his scent was all I could smell.
"There are... keys you have to grab, and... it's a weird lock."
That was true, but I could've explained how to get to them. Honestly, I needed to go down there, not as some kind of exposure therapy, but because I couldn't run away when Ivan saw the truth. It would drive me crazy waiting up here just to have him storm up to me and tell me I was just as much a monster as Ricky.
It was better to face it.
'He'll do worse than insult you. He'll take your baby.'
'Maybe... that's what needs to happen.'
"I know it looks... normal, but... it's not." When you turned on the lights, all you saw was a home office with some spare rooms, but that's what Ricky loved to be—a regular guy with hidden beasts within.
Ivan didn't say anything, watching as I looked through Ricky's desk. He always thought he was clever with his locks. This one was a puzzle that didn't actually have to be solved. All you needed to do was move a piece to the left, and it opened up. Maybe that's why he thought he didn't need to put a lock on the door. As long as he kept everything secure, he could lie to me and pretend it wasn't what it was.
"I... don't know anything about guns..." I started easy, unlocking the largest gun safe. That shouldn't be a big deal. Lots of people own guns... but not like these. "I... don't think most of these are legal."
"They're not..." Ivan scanned the racks, picking a few up and proving he knew his way around a rifle. "All the serial numbers were removed... Some of these are custom... Wait, what's this one?"
He was holding a handgun with markings all over its surface. Sadly, I wasn't surprised he noticed the runes. "Is this... magical script?"
"Yeah..." Whether I liked it or not, it was time to face my fate. "Ricky... doesn't just kill humans."
Before I could regret it, I opened the cabinet behind Ricky's desk, carefully pulling them open. Last time, they nearly cut me. I stepped aside, letting Ivan see the evidence that would condemn me. As a werewolf, his senses could tell the difference between human and others' blood. These were the blades he kept to remind himself of his kills. I knew this because it was elegantly written inside the doors.
"Nefra..." Ivan started, but I hurried away, unable to look him in the eyes.
"He... has this too," my fingers trembled as I unlocked the closet, pulling out several vials and pouches. "These are for vampires... this is for dragons... it... weakens their scales, wolfbane for... werewolves... and..."
I couldn't say the last one, but the name was clear on the bottle.
"This blocks magic." Ivan looked at the sample bottles, then glanced at the closet, where there were cases and even more for every kind of supernatural imaginable. "You're a sorceress... How could he not know?"
"Luck... I never told him, and he never saw me use magic..." Our greatest luck was that Penelope didn't have a random spurt of magic like she did with me. "He... never knew."
Ivan wanted to say something, but I needed to finish showing him this because I couldn't breathe.
"He... this is what he does." Unlocking the two rooms, I let Ivan see the kind of monster I'd married.
Ricky did this for fun. It wasn't about the money or some misguided sense of righteousness. Every life he took, every trophy he came back with, was a sign of the evil inside. Vampire fangs, dragon scales, things in jars, and even toys of the children he'd killed were neatly organized on shelves, labeled, and displayed like a sick collection. This was his pride and joy, and I'd lived with it.
Ivan stood at the door of the larger room, his face pale as he saw the prizes of Ricky's collection.
It wasn't the dragon skull or the treasure he must've taken from his victims. The werewolf pelts and fangs displayed on the walls—hundreds of them, outweighing all the others. Ricky specialized in killing werewolves, and he was good at it. However, a mount was already prepared, even though it was empty. The label read 'the werewolf king' and would be the prize of his exhibition.
"That's why you didn't want me to be your mate..." Understanding clicked, and I nodded, unable to look him in the eyes. "You knew what he could do to me..."
"Yes..." This was it. He was going to tell me I was an evil woman who deserved all the violence I got. "Ivan... before you... say anything... Penelope. She's innocent... I know I can't ask anything from you, but she doesn't deserve... Please, I'm not asking you to take her in, but make sure she-"
I never got a chance to finish my thoughts.
Ivan rushed me, grabbing me and pinning me against the wall, his hand around my throat. Was I about to die? He looked so angry, and I didn't blame him. Was I asking too much? Yes, but there isn't anything I wouldn't do for my daughter, and the thing I didn't want to do was die.
I wanted to live, but to do that, I needed to fight.