Imperatrix

chapter 28

Theme song- Bi*ches broken hearts (Billie Eilish)

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Harry woke up with a start and his gaze snapped to the side. He sighed in relief when he saw what he was looking for. Anna was laying on the far edge of the bed almost falling off. Her hair covered her face, and the duvet hid her ass and legs from his gaze. He could just see the hints of the tattoo on her back. She had really stayed, and he felt so damn happy about it.

Leaning up on his elbow, he reached out his hand to tuck her hair behind her ear. He had barely touched her when she suddenly flipped him onto his back, straddled him and clenched her fist in the air ready to punch him. Her other hand squeezed his neck, choking him in her death grip.

“Whoa, Anna! Anna it’s me, Harry!” he choked out. His eyes wide and his hand trying to get her to release him.

“Harry,” she repeated slowly as if coming out of a trance.

Then she released her hold on his neck and unclenched her fist. “I’m sorry,” she whispered and attempted to climb off him, but he held her in place.

“Bad dream?” he asked as he sat up rubbing his neck.

“No. I’m not used to sleeping with people. I just thought you were going to attack me,” she said as she played with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Why would anyone want to attack you?” he asked puzzled.

“Nothing,” she replied and leaned her head on his shoulder. Her hand went to the silver cross chain he always wore around his neck.

He scooted back with her still on his lap and leaned against the headboard. Her perky breasts were pressed against his chest. It was a very comfy position and she didn’t want to move. After several minutes of silence, she asked, “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for work?”

“Unless they call me, I have the day off,” he said and rested his chin on her head. Tracing the tattoo that was on her lower back. “Why did you get your tattoos?” he asked curiously.

She laughed as she remembered and explained, “It was an act of rebellion when I was younger, I did it to spite my father. He hated seeing it, but he never said anything. I knew by his disapproving look that he didn’t like it, but I loved it.”

There were some letterings on the inside of her right elbow. “What’s this?” he asked softly trailing his finger along the words on her arm.

“It’s the date my father died,” Jack said, her throat clogging up a bit. She’d gotten the tattoo two weeks after. It was written in Russian.

He nodded, “And what does this mean?”

The tattoo was like a ‘J’ and ‘C’ but entwined with little hearts and symbols. You really couldn’t make out the design unless you looked closely.

“That’s uh, Jesus Christ.”

There was no way she was telling him that it was her initials.
He nodded and buried his face in her neck, inhaling her scent.

“I should get up,” Jack said but she didn’t make any move to stand, neither did he.

Then he saw the bullet wound on her thigh. The scar was fairly healed, but he knew what it was.

“What happened to you?” he asked touching the wound.

Jack jerked back and held his hand away from the spot, “Bad memory. I don’t want to talk about it.”