Save Me

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by Shara Azod




  Save Me

  By

  Shara Azod

  Life consisted of surviving-getting through one terrible situation before conquering the next. For Alicia there had always been little choice but to simply endure; first for herself, then for her only child. There was no such thing as a white night in her world. No one was going to save her…

  Then came Claus.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews. This is a work of fiction. All references to real places, people, or events are coincidental, and if not coincidental, are used fictitiously. All trademarks, service marks, registered trademarks, and registered service marks are the property of their respective owners and are used herein for identification purposes only. eBooks are NOT transferable. Re-selling, sharing or giving eBooks is a copyright infringement.

  © 2015 Shara Azod

  Cover Art: Marteeka Karland

  Editor: Katriena Knights

  eBooks are NOT transferable. Re-selling, sharing or giving eBooks is a copyright infringement.

  Contents

  Save Me. 1

  Chapter One. 5

  Chapter Two. 14

  Chapter Three. 21

  Chapter Four 25

  Chapter Five. 32

  Chapter Six. 37

  Chapter Seven. 43

  Chapter Eight 48

  Chapter Nine. 53

  Chapter Ten. 56

  Chapter Eleven. 61

  Epilogue. 66

  Chapter One

  It had been two years since the fateful day Claus had stormed into the dank, dingy Petric Brothers warehouse and saved Alicia from a living hell. After twenty years of essentially being the slave/girlfriend of a monster, she was finally free. Free because Claus had beaten her jailer to death with his bare hands. Killed him because of what Grgur Petric had done to her. He hadn’t even known her, but one look at her battered face had sent Claus into a killing frenzy. While Alicia could understand a man who didn’t like to see women abused, and even respect it, she couldn’t understand what happened next.

  For some reason, Claus had taken her. Not by force, nor because he had vanquished the man who had owned her body and soul. No, he had gathered her up in those massive arms and carried her away into another life. He had cared for her from the very moment Grgur hit the ground. And not once had he taken anything in return. Instead he nursed her to health, provided for her every need and made sure she knew her daughter was safe and loved. That was why she was back in New York, to celebrate her daughter and her newfound happiness.

  Spending time with Deja and Dieter, the man who had made sure Deja didn’t suffer the same fate as her mother, over the holidays had been wonderful. But when Claus had mentioned returning to Denmark, Alicia had been all too ready to leave. A lot had changed for her in the last year and a half. It felt strange, even after all this time, to have complete control over her life. Claus had been very explicit about that—about her making her own decisions. He never demanded anything, even when he could have. If he had, Alicia wouldn’t have blinked an eye; she would have given him anything. Instead he’d asked her if she was ready to go back home, worried about her comfort, never his own. And she knew if she had refused, he would have waited. He’d called the cozy cottage surrounded by spotted orchids, marsh orchids and daisies, located right next to a breathtaking fjord high on the cliffs surrounded by lush green forests home. Never in a million years had she ever dreamed of having a home like that. But it did feel like home; more so than any other place she’d ever lived.

  It had been nice to see her daughter married on New Year’s Day. While Dieter wasn’t exactly a good man, he wasn’t a bad one either. In fact, he was perfect for Deja; he could protect her from the real monsters out there in the world. Alicia had been proud to watch her daughter get married to a man who would never hit her and would never manipulate her for his own ends. The love between the two had been palpable, making the small elegant wedding all the more beautiful. But the couple had left on their honeymoon. The city had begun to feel suffocating. Too many people, too much noise, too many horrific memories. When Claus had casually mentioned going back to the peace and quiet of Denmark, Alicia had jumped at the chance. She hadn’t realized she’d been mentally holding her breath since arriving back in the States until she boarded the private jet back to Denmark and felt her body relax with relief.

  The quiet peace in this picturesque place was addicting. With the nearest town about an hour inland, the only ambient noise was the sound of the waters in the fjord below, quiet now as winter had frozen parts of it, making tiny ice islands that floated in the cobalt waters. The call of the birds wasn’t as prominent as in the warmer months, namely late June and throughout July. She missed the way the snow blanketed the ground in a show of sparkling, pristine white. It was so unlike the way fresh snow quickly became gray from all the pollutants in the city. All around, everything was still, as if the very earth were sleeping until the first thaw.

  It didn’t matter that winter days were so short here. Not even the perpetual cold bothered her, not really. It was hard not to fall in love with this place. The solitude was healing. The hell her life had once been seemed a million years away. Almost as if all the things she’d been through had happened to someone else, some sad sack of a woman who never had a chance. Here she’d been reborn. No longer afraid of her own shadow, she slowly began to let go of the past, of all the fear, and the hopelessness that had suffocated her for far too long. It wasn’t easy, but she had space now. Her own private space. No one told her what to do, how to dress, or to sit in the corner and be silent. If she wanted something she had but to ask. If she needed anything she only had to mention it.

  Sometimes this new life of hers was glorious. Yet sometimes it felt as if she were living in a state of suspended animation.

  As good as Claus was to her, as much control as he’d given her, she was all too aware he had given this to her, this peace, this tranquility. She couldn’t have found this life on her own. And she had no idea what he wanted from her—if anything at all. Most of all she had no idea where to go from here. Her entire life since she first learned she was pregnant at fifteen had been devoted to her child. For Deja, she would and had done any and everything. Now Deja was safe. What would become of her?

  “It’s freezing out here.”

  Alicia smiled at the rough voice at her side. As usual, Claus had approached silently, but she’d still known he was there. It was weird how her entire being sensed whenever he was near. Starting from the first time he had held her, his mere presence had the same effect on her as being wrapped in a warm, fuzzy blanket. Most people wouldn’t have known what to say or do when confronted with a woman who’d just been beaten down by her so-called lover, but Claus had. Gathering her close, he hadn’t said a word, just held her. Without even trying to, he’d shown her not all men were predators, that not all of humanity was a cesspool of shit. The man exuded a quiet strength that made her feel safe, supported, and he’d managed to nurse her back to health mentally as well as physically.

  She merely smiled as he chose to speak, keeping her gaze on the lazily flowing fjord below. The contrast between the deep blue of the waters and the floating isles of white was stunning. Concentrating on the scenery helped her put together words that had been floating around in her head that she hadn’t yet worked up the courage to say. She wasn’t afraid of Claus. Of all the people in the world, he would be the very last man who’d ever hurt her. She just wasn’t sure she even wanted to know the answers to all the questions that had been simmering just below the surface.

  Co
nfrontation was inevitable, and that she was seeking it out was so unlike her. Not only could she not stay in a state of limbo for the rest of her life; she could no longer keep Claus’ life on hold.

  “How long are you planning on babysitting me?” she asked softly, half hoping the wind would carry her words out of his earshot. The inquiry was bold for her, full of double meaning out in the open for him to decipher.

  “I’m not babysitting you.” The deep rumble of his heavily accented voice was as quiet as always. In no way did the question seem to confuse or surprise him. In fact, Alicia could have sworn he’d been expecting it. “You are, and always will be…important to me.”

  That made her turn to face him. Seeing the same stoic expression that was always on his face was somewhat of a comfort, but his eyes seemed to burn with some kind of emotion she couldn’t place. God, she wished she could tell what he was thinking as easily as he could read her. Something was going on in that unfathomable mind of his. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him about it, to ask him how important she was to him, and in what way, but she swallowed her questions. Healing was one thing—being brave was something else entirely. Yes, she had healed a lot, but she’d never been a brave woman. Life had beaten the audacity right out of her more than a fist ever could. Not much in her life has gone right, even before she’d been more or less sold to Grgur Petric.

  Did Claus feel responsible for her since he’d saved her from Grgur? Kind of like a rescuing a pet that had been abused by careless owners? No, Claus was more of a man than that. He was more of a man than any she’d ever known. So in what way was she important? The giant man of few words never made any kind of romantic gesture toward her. The thing was, he did everything else a man would do for a woman he lov—liked. Every other week a woman flew in from Paris to do her hair; it was a damn good thing too because she seriously doubted she could get a relaxer in Faaborg, the closest “city” to where they were. Never mind about the village an hour’s car ride away. Clothing just appeared in her drawers in closets, and there was a nice older lady who didn’t speak a word of English who came to cook every day of the week except Sundays, along with her middle-aged daughter, who spoke very little English, to clean the place.

  When they’d first come here, Alicia hadn’t been able to sleep through the night without nightmares. It was strange, because back in New York, she hadn’t had those nightmares for years. Stranger still, she hadn’t been horrified by Grgur’s death, or even particularly saddened by it. She’d been fiercely glad, relieved and freed. Yet, the magnitude of her life had closed in around her. Visions of every monster that had ever ruled her life, starting with her stepfather and moving up through Grgur, visited her at night. The first three months, she’d been so skittish, so sleep deprived, she jumped at every little noise, curled up in a corner on the sofa in the solarium, afraid to move, afraid even to venture through the house. Through it all, Claus had been her constant rock. Never saying anything much, just there to hold her through the night when she woke up screaming at faceless monsters. There to coax her outside into the sun, even sailing in the fjord when the weather was mild enough. He’d brush her hair off her face and cuddle her through the night. When he held her like that she slept like an innocent, something she hadn’t been in a very long time.

  Because Claus wasn’t a man of many words, it was hard to know exactly what he thought of her, what he thought they were doing. At first, she hadn’t paid it much attention. Now, it seemed to be weighing on her thoughts more and more, especially given the closeness that had grown between them. Gathering her courage, she decided to let him know as much as she dared.

  “I can’t figure you out.” Her stomach in knots, Alicia asked the mildest question that came to mind; not that it was really a question. “You seem to know what I’m thinking, or feeling, but you are a total mystery to me.” It was frustrating, damn it! But she wasn’t foolish enough to say that last thought out loud.

  “All you have to do is ask. I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

  Oh, sweet Lord, the conviction in his voice made her shiver worse than the cool wind ever could. The quiet, absolute certainty with which he spoke was enough to knock the breath from her lungs. But those eyes—light blue, yet searing, looking at her as if she were the only woman in the world—made her knees weaken. For a while now, stirrings had been growing of something she thought she’d never feel again. Now it was like he’d thrown lighter fluid on a simmering flame. The cold couldn’t begin to cool the heat growing inside her.

  That scared her. Yes, on an intellectual level she wanted more from Claus. There always seemed to be some unspoken bond growing ever stronger between them. But this desire was new. Maybe she should’ve given that aspect of getting involved with a man again a lot more thought.

  Unable to deal with all the issues sex brought up, she turned to face the fjord once more. She didn’t want to see the knowledge in his eyes that she was still broken, even after all this time. Damn it, she wanted to reclaim all her life. Not just bits and pieces. How could she want this man, but be afraid of a physical relationship? Sex had always been just that—sex. It was something she’d had to do.

  But with Claus, she knew instinctively it would be different. She really cared for him. There was so much she wanted for him, with him. How could she be silently obsessing over whether or not he wanted her as a woman when she wasn’t sure she could be a complete woman to him? God, she was so fucked up.

  “Come.” Claus wrapped his arm around her waist, then tucked her close to his solid body. It didn’t take much for him to steer her away from the cliffside; her body seemed to want to follow where he went. “I’ll make you chocolate and we can talk.”

  “Okay,” she muttered, trying to pull away to make her own way through the snow. Only as soon as she moved, Claus simply swept her off her feet and carried her.

  As she often did, Alicia took the opportunity to study his face. The granite façade did, and should, scare almost everyone at a single glance. However, she’d had the opportunity to look deeper, to really study his features. Yes, his face was hard, but it was hardened by pain. She recognized that kind of pain. The kind that life stomped into those who were born with less or without. With less care, less love, and without means. The lines etched into his skin didn’t come from laughter or age—they came from surviving. It made it impossible for anyone to guess his true age. Possibly younger than she, but she’d had Deja at fifteen, so it was possible they could be around the same age. She was thirty-nine; Claus neither looked nor acted like he was much younger. In fact, he conducted himself as if he were almost ancient, at least in wisdom. He was old enough to remember the fall of the Berlin wall with a great deal of accuracy. She knew from the small tidbits he did talk about, like scrounging for food or running from Stasi with Dieter.

  One thing was for sure—he had experience caring for someone, quite probably a woman. The way he sensed her needs, the way he thought about the little things most men just didn’t think about. Not that she had much experience with the type of man Claus was. Women were precious to him; it was evident in all he did for her.

  Where had he gotten the two-inch scar on the right side of his face, she wondered. Before she knew what she was doing, she reached out to trace her finger along that scar.

  “It’s from a fight. I was sixteen, maybe seventeen,” he surprised her by saying, his eyes burning a hole right down to her soul, all without missing a step as he strode to the cottage. “Men came for Dieter. Members of the Stasi, men who liked boys. I wouldn’t allow them to take him. The next day, they came for me, to teach me a lesson. Dieter—he returned the favor, but we both came away with scars.”

  Wow. Alicia’s heart stuttered, imagining the kind of hell they had to have gone through. She was speechless as he carried her into the cottage, tucking her under a blanket by the sofa near the fireplace before going into the kitchen. Hearing him move around, opening cabinets and drawers, was comforting. Closing her eyes, she
allowed the peace to settle into her, willing away her wayward thoughts. Perhaps now wasn’t the time for deep conversation. She really needed to figure out what she wanted, what she was prepared to give and what she wasn’t. It just wasn’t fair to him any other way.

  But soon Claus was handing her a steaming mug of hot chocolate, then settling next to her before effortlessly lifting her into his lap. It was wrong to take this kind of solace from him, but that didn’t stop her from settling in deeper, laying her head against his chest.

  “You should never be afraid to ask me whatever you wish, Alicia.”

  She didn’t know what was better—the way his chest rumbled under her cheek as he spoke, or the smooth baritone of his voice. Her name sounded like a song on his lips. Silly thoughts, but better than concentrating on what he was saying. Knowing she didn’t have to be skittish and actually not being afraid were two totally separate things. A lifetime of conditioning made her tongue too heavy to move properly to ask all the things she really wanted to know.

  Perhaps he felt her fear because he sighed, his chest moving under her cheek. Alicia pressed her face against him, determined to beat back the fear she no longer wanted. It had no place in her life now. Claus might be built like a bear, large and imposing, but he was so eminently snuggleable. A big teddy bear was what he was to her. She couldn’t allow her past to interfere with the safety she’d found in his arms. And she wasn’t about to let him get away if she could help it. If he wanted her.

  “I tried to take care of my mother and sister, and even Dieter as best I could when I was younger,” he continued, possibly because she’d said nothing. “I’m forty-three. I grew up in East Berlin under Soviet rule. Both my mother and my sister were prostitutes. Their main clientele were Russian soldiers who were never…gentle.”

 

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