Broken Clocks

Chapter Three

(Edited)
Asia

"Gde koltso?" He says it more to himself than me. His face Expresses confusion. His brows are furrowed and his head is slightly tilted. 

His grip on my hand tightens and that when relizating sets in. 

The ring!! 

"Milio you have to understand, I thought you were dead" his hold on my hand gets tighter. 

"You are mine even in death, yes?" His blue eyes are as cold as ever. 

No. 

He sits back down and pulls be down with him. 

He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth with his teeth then lets it go before speaking again. "What did I tell you when I proposed?" 

He is trying to make sure I understand why I am going to be punished. 

I have no way out of this. 

"You said to never take it off." He told me to make sure I don't take it off unless I want to get my finger cut off. 

His grip on my hand loosened. "I should cut one off." Fear shocks my body. 

He lifts the same hand he has been holding and kisses my fingers. "You are lucky that I don't want to permanently damage you." 

I calm down and lean more into him, just to calm my breathing. He kisses my cheek still holding my hand. CRACK is all I hear before the most excruciating pain jolts throughout my hand. 

I scream and try to pull myself off Millio's lap, but he holds me in place. 

My crying gets muffled by his chest. He broke my finger. Just like that he just snapped it. He holds me close so that I won't get away.

I scream in agony. I fight against him to try and free myself. 

"You know I couldn't let that go unpunished Angel." He whisper in my ear with his lips touching my earlobe. His explanation only made me cry more. 

He sighs while still holding me. I feel him pull out his phone. He speaks to someone in Russian. 

He ends the call and stands, I am lifted up, my head is tucked into his chest while he carries me to god knows where in his parents house. 

He rubbed my back while shushing me like he didn't just pop my finger out of place. 

I don't want him to touch me, but I have no Choice but to allow him to. 

I am too afraid to look at it, but the pain speaks for itself and the damage is done. 

We stop and he sits me softly on a bed. The room is simple. I can tell he hasn't spent much time here. I don't even see any luggage or personal belongings. 

He leans into me for a kiss and I turn my head. He grabs my face. "You must not like using your fingers much." My lips quiver and I turn my head back to its original position. 

He kisses my lips softly before walking away and leaving me. 

My hate for him settles in. He has changed. He is much worse. I keep my hand close to my chest while laying on my back. 

After a couple of deep breaths I decided to take a look at it. Instead of bending backwards like I thought it would be, it is swollen and curved awkwardly to the side.

Only when I hear the door open do I peel my eyes away from my hand. An old man walks in. He has a slight hump in his upper back with a white coat on. I watch as he sits in a chair that is beside the bed. 

Behind him comes my husband with his hands in his pocket. I can feel him staring at me.

The old man opens his bag. "Hello Mrs. Petrov." I ignore him.

Fuck his last name, fuck his family, fuck his doctor, and fuck him. 

The old man gets straight to work on my finger. 

Millio disappears again. The man puts on a split and wraps my finger. "It will take about a month or two to heal. The break is clean and only in one place. Try to not get it wet." 

He hands Millio my pain meds and lets himself out. "Come here" He is sitting on the couch a little far from ths bed. He has a glass of what I am assuming is some kind of strong liquor that he is nursing. 

Trust me I am angry but I still want to keep all my fingers, so I get up and go to him. 

He is now standing in front of me. He stares at me, looks at my fucked up finger, then grabs my face. 

"The next time you disobey me I won't break a finger I will cut off your hand." The tears are never ending. I know they are wetting his hand. 

"Milio please." My voice is weak and begging. I cringe at the sound of my voice cracking. I just want to go home and to pretend he is still dead. 

"Please what my beautiful Angel?" His head tilts. His voice shows no concern, just calm anger. "Do you not understand? Do I have to show you?" 

He steps closer and we are chest to chest one of his hands on my waist the other on my face. 

There is no where to run if I say something crazy. 

I shake my head. "No I understand." I understand that it is fuck you until the day I am able to get away from you. 

He wipes some tears from my face with the pad of his tattooed index and thumb fingers.

"Dobry.(good)"