13. Lara
Chapter 13
Lara
I t feels weird driving away and leaving Luka behind, but I tell myself that if I’m going to be married to a Bratva man, then I need to get used to shit like this. Svetlana turns around to give me a smile.
“Don’t worry. Luka will get back to you as soon as he can.” She laughs and adds, “I’ve never seen my cousin with a girl before.”
“I still find that hard to believe,” I admit.
“Yeah, but he’s just not like that. He’s always put the family first, and I think he thought that he couldn’t have both, you know? You really knocked him on his ass, though, and had him rethinking everything.”
I smile at her, still unable to fully believe how damn lucky I am. Svetlana turns her head when Vitya says something to her in Russian and uses his finger in a twirling motion to let her know she should turn around.
“I am wearing my seatbelt,” she mutters, “and I’m not going to fly through the fucking windshield. Just don’t get in a wreck. How about that?”
I’m not sure what he says in Russian, but it’s enough to have Svetlana narrowing her eyes at him and defiantly hiking a foot up to rest on the dashboard. He side-eyes her but doesn’t push her foot down. Based on the shit-eating grin she’s giving him, she’s just won this fight.
I didn’t hear Luka give my address, so after a few minutes, I ask, “Do you know where I live?”
Svetlana turns back around and flashes me another huge smile. “We’ve been there.” She laughs and asks, “Did you like the Grim Reaper I left in your stairwell?”
“That was you?”
“Yep.”
“That was amazing!” I tell her, remembering how great it had looked, even though she must’ve had to rush to do it.
“Thank you,” she says, smiling even bigger. “My mom’s a really talented artist, and I’ve been drawing for as long as I can remember. I designed the tattoo the guys have on their arm, too.”
“I love that tattoo,” I tell her, “so thank you for that.”
She laughs. “You’re welcome. Mia’s already put me to work designing some things for when she’s old enough to really mark her body up.”
“I’ve kind of been thinking about getting a tattoo,” I tell her, even though my thoughts on it have been very recent. After what Luka had told me about their Uncle Matvey, I was curious and looked at his arms today, and I’d been surprised by how much I liked the way the tattoos looked over his scarred skin. It felt like he had taken ownership over his scars and made them into something he wanted instead of just being content to keep them as a constant reminder of an awful and painful time in his life. I’d also loved that he didn’t seem even slightly self-conscious of them. I’d quickly decided that I want to be like that too. I’m sick of being embarrassed of my scars and hiding them. They’re a part of me, whether I like it or not, so I might as well make them into something beautiful. Plus, I’m sick of sweating my ass off, and Dominic’s pool had looked amazing. I’m tired of sitting my life on the sidelines. That’s not how I want my life with Luka to be.
Svetlana turns back to face me, ignoring the look Vitya gives her when she’s sitting sideways again and not safely tucked in her seat and facing forward like he obviously wants her to be.
“How many and where do you want them?” she asks, excitement pouring out of her in a way that’s so damn contagious I can’t help but laugh.
“I’m not sure what I want yet, but I was thinking about some arm sleeves, maybe my wrist to my elbow, and maybe something floral.”
Svetlana nods, a faraway look already in her honey-brown eyes like she’s mentally drawing some sketches in her head. “Give me a few days to draw up some mocks.” She smiles even bigger. “I promise we’ll be able to come up with something amazing.”
“I’m not absolutely sure I’m going to do it yet,” I warn her, but she just laughs.
“Even if you decide you don’t want to use them, I’m still going to have fun creating it. No pressure at all.”
When Vitya has lasted as long as he can, he reaches over and nudges her shoulder, motioning for her to turn back around. I know bodyguards are supposed to keep whoever they’re watching safe, but this seems excessive even to me. Svetlana just grunts like she’s used to it and swivels back around.
Pulling into the parking garage, I’m about to thank them and hop out, but Vitya parks the SUV and turns off the engine.
“I can just take the elevator,” I tell him.
“Luka wants me to walk you to your door,” he tells me, making it clear that it’s an order he will be following. When he sees my worry, he adds, “No one will see me,” and I realize this must’ve been what Luka was telling him when he spoke in Russian before we left. I’m not at all surprised by Luka’s thoughtfulness, but that doesn’t mean I’m not still touched by it. I love how strong he is, but there’s no denying that his soft side melts my damn heart.
“I can stay here,” Svetlana says. “I’ll just lock the doors and wait.”
Vitya cuts her a look. “You’re coming with us.”
“I’m perfectly safe to stay in here,” Svetlana tells him. “It’s bulletproof and the doors will be locked. ”
He growls something in Russian that has her rolling her eyes and opening the door to step out while she looks at me and mutters, “I told you we’re practically glued together at the ass.”
Vitya ignores her and guides us to the elevators. His eyes scan the parking garage, and I wonder if this man even has an off mode, or if he’s just always this damn alert. We take the empty elevator to the fourth floor, and he says something to Svetlana in Russian that has her nodding her head and then pulling me in for a hug.
“It was really nice meeting you, Lara. I’ll swing by your new apartment in a few days to show you the sketches I come up with.”
“Thanks, Svetlana,” I tell her, returning her hug. “It was great meeting you, too.” I look over at Vitya, who’s scanning the hallway and lightly gripping Svetlana’s elbow like he’s afraid she’s going to run off. “It was nice meeting you too, Vitya, and thanks for the ride.”
He nods at me and then leads us further down the hall, stopping several feet away so my mom won’t know they’re here. If they’re curious about why I’m being so cautious, they’re kind enough to not ask or make me feel weird about it. Giving them one last smile, I slide my key in and step inside.
“Lara?” my mom immediately asks.
“Yeah, it’s me, Mom,” I tell her as if there’s any possibility it could be anyone else. I don’t remember a single time in my life when we invited someone into our home. This was always a very private space for us, a place my mom insisted we keep safe and hidden as much as possible.
I stop to grab a bottle of water from the fridge before meeting her in the living room. Pip pokes his cute little head up from where he’s napping on her lap, and when I sit down at the end of the couch, he comes pouncing over to cuddle up in my lap instead.
“I need you to tell me where you’ve been,” my mom says, and I know I can’t put this off any longer. This is my mess to deal with, and it’s not fair to push it off just because Luka can’t be here with me right now. I’m sick of lying about it anyway and ready for it to be out in the open so I can stop worrying about it .
I look at my mom, willing her to understand where I’m coming from when I say, “I was with my boyfriend. We had dinner with his family.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? How did you meet him?” She brings her hand to her mouth, nervously chewing on her thumbnail while she eyes me like I’ve just betrayed her in the worst way possible.
I sigh and lean my head back while I stroke Pip’s soft fur. “Because I knew how you’d react, because I didn’t want to deal with that reaction, and because I just wanted to be happy and normal. I love him, Mom. I love him more than I thought it was even possible to love someone, and I didn’t know how to make you understand that he’s a good man.”
“What do you mean?”
When I don’t answer, her whole body goes rigid. “What’s his name?” When I still don’t answer, she asks again, her voice shaking, and I can’t tell if it’s from nerves or rage or a combination of both.
“Luka Melnikov,” I whisper, right before she shrieks and everything goes to shit.
She jumps up, pacing the floor in front of me while she waves her hand at me like a crazed woman. “What? Why would you do this? How could you be with a monster like that? I told you what that family did to your dad, Lara. How could you betray me like this?” Her wild eyes lock on mine. “How could you betray your father like this?”
“He’s not like that, Mom, and don’t you dare throw my father in my face. I know the truth about him.”
My mom pauses, her brows furrowed in what looks to be genuine confusion. “What are you talking about? Osip was a great man, and he loved us so much.”
“No, Mom,” I tell her, gently shaking my head. “He wasn’t. I talked to Lou. I found the business card in your closet, and Luka and I went to his club. Lou told me that he was a dangerous man and that he beat you. My dad was a monster, not the Melnikovs. He did something awful to someone they cared about, and they killed him for it.”
My mom fists her hair and shakes her head. “No, that’s not true.”
“Tell me the truth, Mom. Did my dad ever hit you?”
“I didn’t want you to know about that club,” she sobs. “I never wanted you to know that I used to dance there.”
I scoot Pip off my lap and stand up to face her. Her shoulders shake as her head hangs down, and it’s been a long time since I’ve seen her look so defeated. I wrap my arms around her and hug her.
“I don’t care about that, Mom. I know you needed money, and I would never judge you for doing whatever you needed to do to take care of yourself. I just want to know the truth about my dad. Did he hit you?”
“He loved me,” she insists, crying even harder. “We were going to be a family, and they took him from me. You can’t be with him, Lara. You need to end things with that boy. You can’t see him again.”
“That’s not going to happen,” I tell her. “I love him and I’m moving in with him and we’re going to be married. Nothing you can say or do is going to change that.”
“No,” she yells, pushing away from my hug and taking a step back. “I won’t have you becoming one of them. You’re mine, Lara! You’re not a fucking Melnikov!”
I take a steadying breath and meet her eyes. “I will be soon enough. We’re going to get you the help you need, Mom, and I hope one day you can see things as they truly are.”
Before she can say whatever is on the tip of her tongue, and judging by the anger and hurt in her eyes, it’s not even close to being the I’m so happy you found someone comment I’ve been secretly hoping for, the front door bangs open and three armed men walk in. Fear floods me, and all I can think is that I forgot to lock the goddamn door. Luka went through all that trouble to have the deadbolt put on, and I fucking forgot to lock it. As pissed as my mom is at me right now, the first thing she does is step in front of me, trying like hell to put herself in between me and the three guns pointed our way.
“They found us,” she whispers in a panic. “Your boyfriend probably sent them here.”
I’ve just spent the day with the Melnikov men, and I know for a fact the three terrifying men in front of me are not them. I don’t recognize any of them, and I know Luka would never do this to me. At the thought of him, my chest seizes, because I’d give anything to have him with me right now.
“Don’t fucking move,” the man on the right says when my mom starts to push me backwards and further behind her. All three of them are tatted-up and probably in their forties. They look just as lethal as Luka and his cousins, but there’s something in their eyes that lets me know it’s best to not fuck with them. Luka had said his family looks different when they’re working, and I can’t help but wonder if this is what they look like to those on the receiving end of their wrath. It’s hard to imagine Luka ever looking like this, but surely he doesn’t go about his work with the sweet smile he reserves just for me.
The man in the center steps closer. There’s rope in his hands and a cruel look in his eyes. They’re cold and distant and on some deep, instinctual level, I know there’s no talking our way out of this. These men are professionals. A few tears and sobbing pleas are not going to get them to suddenly develop a moral compass. That shit’s only for the movies.
“No,” my mom yells when he grabs her arm and pulls her toward him. Without a second thought, he raises his hand and backhands her, knocking her to her knees.
“Stop it!” I scream, lunging for him only to have him push me aside like I’m an annoying bug instead of a grown-ass woman coming in for the kill, and when I hit the ground, I let out a scream at the sharp pain that radiates through my hip.
“Shut the fuck up,” he growls, slapping a piece of duct tape over my mouth before I can scream again and then does the same to my mom. He looks over at the man on the right and says something to him in Russian before grabbing my wrists and tying them tight enough to cut off my blood flow. The wide-eyed terrified look my mom gives me says it all. Her worst nightmares have finally come true, but instead of the Melnikov Bratva that she’s been fearing for two decades, it’s someone else who’s come for us, and I have no idea if this is because of my dad or if this is because someone saw me with Luka and this is their way of trying to hurt him and his family. Luka had warned me about this. Hell, this is the whole reason he’s insisting I get a bodyguard, and the idea of being watched by Arkady isn’t looking so bad right now.
“Get up,” the man hisses, tugging me to my feet. He looks between me and my mom. “We’re walking out of here, and you will not do anything to draw attention to us. If you do something to alert your neighbors, we will kill them, and their deaths will be on you. Understood?”
He waits for us to nod, and when we do, he grabs my arm in a rough grip while the other man grabs my mom and the third guy goes to open the door. I dart my eyes to Pip, willing him to be a quiet little kitten until we can leave, and I almost burst out crying in relief when he lays down on the soft blanket he loves so much and starts kneading his little paws on it. I’ve never been so grateful for a cat’s complete indifference before. A dog would have probably barked or attacked, and then they would’ve killed it, which would have destroyed me.
It isn’t until we’re out in the hallway and one of the men is swinging the door shut that I let myself relax about Pip’s fate. He’s safe, and Luka will find him alone when he comes looking for me and know that something is wrong. He’ll find me. No matter where these assholes take me, I know he’ll find me. A little voice in my head reminds me that it took his family two years to find his aunt, but I refuse to let that thought take root. He will find me and soon.
Our building isn’t a busy one, mostly filled with elderly singles who spend their days inside, and so I’m not surprised when we make it to the parking garage undetected. The black SUV that’s waiting for us has all my instincts on edge. A second location is always a bad idea, but my mom and I have absolutely no choice in the matter. If I fight, I know they’ll hurt her, and I can’t risk that. She already looks like she’s given up. Her body is shaking as she sobs and sucks in quick, frantic breaths through her nose. I know she’s on the brink of completely losing it. This is her worst fear come to life, and her mental state is not ready for it and can’t deal with it. She’s going to be shutting down soon, and then I’ll be left alone.
The man gripping my arm opens the door and shoves my mom and me into the backseat before getting in himself while the other two get in up front. The sound of the engine starting has my breaths coming even faster. My phone is in my back pocket, and just when I think about how it’s the only thing keeping me sane right now, the man starts running his hands over me, patting me down until he pulls my phone out and tosses it out the window near Mrs. Waterford’s green Toyota. My hope that Niki or his dad might be able to trace my location through my phone dies a quick death, and I’m forced to face the fact that there’s no way in hell Luka will be able to track me.
With each passing minute, my hope dwindles until it’s nothing but a faint spark that’s snuffed out when I see that we’re not being driven further into the city. No, they’re taking us out of the damn city, and when we’ve driven for what feels like hours, we’re surrounded by woods, and I can’t even guarantee we’re in the same damn state.
When we turn off the main road and onto a gravel, narrow path, I sit up straighter and try to figure out where we are, but it’s too dark to see anything, not that there’s anything to see. It’s been so long since we’ve even passed another car. We’re truly in the middle of fucking nowhere.
The log cabin we stop in front of is massive. It’s also completely hidden away and surrounded by armed guards. The sun set a long time ago, but there are security lights, and I quickly count fifteen men—all of them armed, and all of them looking more than capable of taking me and my mom out. We don’t stand a fucking chance against these men.
“Come on,” the man next to me growls, gripping my arm and lugging my ass out of the back while one of the others does the same thing to my mom. I try to scream, but with the tape still on, it’s pointless and just wears me out and annoys him. He lets me know it does because he grips my arm hard enough to bring tears to my eyes and tells me to shut the fuck up.
The guards watch us as they drag us by, but they don’t say anything, and they definitely don’t try and stop it. The looks are impassive, completely emotionless, almost to the point of appearing bored. It makes me wonder about what all they’ve seen and done to not even bat an eye at two kidnapped women being dragged into a house in the middle of the woods.
We walk into a large living room that in any other situation would have me admiring the huge stone fireplace and wooden beams, but the room loses its luster when I’m shoved onto the floor and forced to take the brunt of the fall with my shoulder and ass since my hands are still tied together. My mom lands next to me, and I use all my strength to wiggle over to her. I press my forehead to hers, willing the life back into her, but her eyes are glassy and remain unfocused.
I make as much noise as I can, trying to get her attention, but wherever her mind is, it’s not here. In a way, I envy her ability to drift away, because there’s no denying I’d rather be anywhere than right where I am.
The sound of Russian has me turning my head, watching the three men who brought us here while they have a conversation with a man who’s just walked into the living room. His hair is longer and tied back behind him, and judging by the way he’s barking out his words and pointing down the hall, he seems to be in charge, or at least a higher rank than these fucks. When his eyes land on mine, I quickly look away, figuring it’s best to try and remain as invisible as possible. He says something else, and soon the man who’s evidently been assigned to me is pulling me up again and dragging me out of the room and down the hall. I fight him when I see another man dragging my mom in the opposite direction and down a set of stairs. I scream for her and buck against his hold until he gets so pissed he just picks me up and slings me over his shoulder, carrying me into a room that nearly has me pissing my pants. Gone is the plush carpet and luxurious-looking cabin, and in its place is a cement floor with a drain in the center and a hook hanging from a thick chain that’s secured to one of the wooden beams that runs across the ceiling.
I have just enough time to realize this is the room I’m going to die in when he sets me down and roughly lifts my arms, slipping my roped wrists around the hook so I’m hanging with my toes barely scraping the rough floor. When he yanks the tape from my mouth, I don’t beg and plead for my life. I just cry, sobbing for the life I almost had, the one that I knew was too good to be true but still wanted so goddamn badly.
The man fists my hair, lifting my head and letting me see the look of disgust on his face. “Stop fucking crying.”
I take in a shaky breath, trying to get control of myself, but it’s not easy and when another sob escapes, he drops his hand with an angry grunt and takes a step back. I have one brief moment of relief but it’s gone as soon as I see the knife he pulls from a sheath at his waist. If he’s trying to get me to stop crying, he’s going about it the wrong way because the sight of that sharp, serrated blade is doing nothing to put me at ease.
“Please don’t,” I whimper, but he ignores me and puts the blade to my stomach. I can easily feel the sharp tip of it through my thin shirt, and when I shudder, he lets out a soft laugh. Gripping the fabric in one hand, he uses the other to run the blade up my shirt, tearing through it without any effort on his part, confirming my worse fears about how damn sharp he keeps his knife.
When my shirt is split down the middle, he continues to ignore my pleas for him to stop as he cuts away the sleeves. I’m too scared to worry about my damn scars, but when I hear him let out a disgusted sound and push me away so I’m swinging on my hook, I’m too ashamed and embarrassed to even lift my head.
“Fucking disgusting,” he growls at me, and I hate that I’m letting this sick fucker make me feel bad. “I’m disappointed. I expected something better from Osip’s daughter.”
That has me lifting my head. “What?”
He raises a condescending brow at me. “I thought you’d be smarter, too. If your dad were alive, he’d be embarrassed to call you his daughter.”
“Like I care what that sick fuck would think.” I spit the words out, too angry to be cautious. “Is that why you took me? Because I’m his daughter? How the hell did you even know, and who are you anyway?”
The man grins, running his eyes over my bra before he slides his fingers down my stomach and to the waistband of my jeans.
“You’re heavier than I like, but you’ve got great tits.”
“Don’t fucking touch me!” I scream at him, feeling nauseous at having his hands on me. Luka is the only man I want touching me, and it feels so wrong to have this bastard groping me.
He gives another laugh and uses his thumb to pop the button on my jeans before slowly lowering my zipper. “I see you did get your father’s temper.”
Jerking my jeans down my body, he pulls them from me, taking my shoes as well until I’m in nothing but my bra and panties.
“What are you going to do to me?” I look around the room, desperate for some way out of this hell. “What are you going to do to my mom?”
“We don’t need her,” he says, like her life means absolutely nothing to him and he doesn’t give the slightest fuck whether she lives or dies. “She’ll be taken care of soon enough.”
“Please don’t hurt her,” I beg in a shaky voice that makes it clear I’m scared to death.
“If I were you, I’d be a little more worried about my own ass.” To emphasize his point, he steps behind me and smacks one of my cheeks hard enough to make my eyes water and a scream to escape from my lips before I can bite down and stop it.
“Who are you?” I ask again. “And what do you want with me?”
He finishes his circle around me, not saying a word until he’s facing me again. “I’m Radek, and I work for the Turgenev Bratva, the Bratva who stepped in and took over when your uncle and dad were killed. Did you know your dad helped run the biggest sex trafficking ring in the world?”
He can tell by the horrified look on my face that I have no idea what he’s talking about. Stepping closer, he hooks a finger under my chin and roughly forces my face up to meet his so I’m at an even more awkward angle, pain radiating down my neck and spine.
“They were taken out, so we stepped in and took over. Your family made a fucking fortune off kidnapping and selling women.” He runs his eyes over my ruined arms while I try not to lose my supper all over his nice black boots. “It’s a shame you fucked yourself up like this, but even with your ugly scars, I’m guessing we’ll still get one hell of a bid for Osip’s only child.”
“Bid?” I try not to show how terrified I am, but he sees it. My voice is nothing but a scared whisper, and my entire body is shaking. I don’t know how Luka deals with this shit. I’m clearly not cut out for it.
Radek gives a wicked laugh and drops my chin. “We’re going to sell you to the highest bidder, sweetheart. If your dad were alive, he’d approve. A son would have been of use to him. He could’ve taught him to run the business. But a girl? You would have been married off to secure a business connection, or you would have been sold off to make money.”
“Why are you doing this?” I look into his dark eyes, trying to find some brief glimpse of humanity, some hint that there’s still a human in there somewhere, but when he smiles, I know there’s nothing in this man but hate and a desire to hurt.
“Because it’s fun,” he says, running his eyes over me again, “and it’s made me a very rich man.”
With the corner of his mouth still lifted in a smirk, he starts to circle me again, dragging the tip of his blade along my stomach and side as he goes. He’s not pressing hard enough to cut me, but we both know how sharp his knife is, and it’s not going to take much to break skin.
“I’m under strict orders to not touch you if you’re a virgin, but,” he says, tapping the tip of his knife against my hip, “you’re not, are you? There are small bruises along your hips, just like a man would leave if he were gripping you while fucking you hard.”
My heart races even faster at his words, because I’m barely handling things so far, but if he starts touching me, I’m going to break completely. He will destroy me. I’d much rather he take that knife and start slicing. That’s at least a pain I’m familiar with.
When he drags the blade along the top of my panties, tracing a line from one hip to the next, I let out a shaky, “Please don’t.” I haven’t brought up Luka because I don’t want to drag him into this and put his life at risk, but when Radek slips the blade beneath the lace at my hip and splits it with a terrifying ease, I say, “They’re going to kill you for this.”
“Oh yeah?” he asks, his tone making it clear he doesn’t give a fuck and hardly thinks whatever I have to say will be a real threat. “Who’s going to kill me, sweetheart?”
“My boyfriend and his family,” I tell him. “Did you take the stairwell when you and your friends came to kidnap us?”
“No. Why?” he asks with a soft laugh. “Is that where he was hiding? I’m so sorry I missed him. I would’ve enjoyed killing him in front of you.”
I ignore his comment, even though the thought of him hurting Luka makes me feel like I can’t breathe. “You would’ve seen the Grim Reaper if you had, the one that the Melnikov Bratva uses.”
His knife stills before he slowly drags it along my skin as he walks around to face me. My panties are hanging free on one side, exposing more of myself than I’d like, but at least he’s stopped cutting for now.
“You’re lying,” he tells me, but I hold his gaze, not backing down on this since my life depends on it.
“I’m not. I belong to Luka Melnikov, and he’s going to fucking kill you for this.” I readjust on my toes, making my body swing a bit from the hook I’m still connected to, and then it’s my turn to laugh, because I might not make it through this thing, but I’m at least going to die knowing that Luka will get revenge for what’s been done to me. “You’re a fucking dead man, Radek. He doesn’t even like it when other men look at me, and you’ve gone and put your filthy hands all over me. What do you think he’s going to do to you for that?”
“Shut up,” he growls at me .
He grabs my forearm, not even bothering to hide how repulsed he is by the feel of my skin. “I know wounds, sweetheart, and I know you gave all these to yourself. What kind of fucked-up person does that? You’re not right in the head. A Melnikov could be with anyone, and you want me to believe that he’s chosen a scarred, chubby girl when he could have a supermodel. Yeah fucking right.”
His comments sting, but I don’t let it show. Instead, I scoff and say, “My winning personality won him over. I can be quite charming when I’m not half-naked and hanging from a chain.”
He lets go of me, the movement rough so it sends me spinning before he grabs my waist and holds me still.
“There’s no way to know if you’re telling the truth. We did our research on the Melnikovs before we came into their territory, and your name never came up. My guess is you have a little crush on Luka.” His thumb grazes my skin, and he laughs when I’m unable to jerk away. “Maybe he gave you a pity fuck, and you got your little hopes up. Whatever happened, it doesn’t matter. If you meant something to him, then he would’ve had you protected. He would have never left you alone.”
I look away from him, but not before I see the cruel smile on his face. He’s wrong, he’s so fucking wrong, but I’m not going to waste my time trying to explain it. Luka will never forgive himself for not assigning Arkady to me sooner. I was never supposed to be alone tonight, and the fact that he left me unprotected, even if it was only for an hour or two, is something that will haunt him forever, and I hate that for him. I don’t want him to carry this guilt around for the rest of his life.
“That’s what I thought,” Radek says, like he’s got it all figured out. “So now that we’ve established you’re not a virgin, why don’t we have a little fun?”
“Fuck you,” I tell him, but we both know that I’m the one who’s fucked. When he brings the knife to the other side of my panties, slicing the lace in seconds, I clench my thighs together, trying to keep myself covered. He laughs and brings the knife to my bra. Slipping the blade between my breasts, he flicks his wrist and cuts through so my bra opens and I spill out. The bulge in his pants is impossible to miss, letting me know exactly how much this sick fuck is getting off on hurting me.
“I thought I was too chubby for you,” I say, still refusing to let the scrap of lace fall from between my clenched thighs.
“I said you’ve got great tits. They can make up for a lot of things.” He grabs the panties that are wedged between my thighs and roughly pulls them free and tosses them aside.
When he runs his hands over my hips, I panic and scream. I put everything I have into it, gripping my chain and lifting my feet so I can kick him. He grunts when I make contact with his shin and backhands me hard enough to have me swinging again.
“Don’t fucking touch me!” I scream again, knowing I’ll fight until there’s nothing left. I’ll fight until he’s forced to beat me into unconsciousness, because that’s the only way this bastard is getting inside me.
With a growl, he brings his fist back and punches me in the cheek when I come swinging back around to him, the force of it blinding me and making me realize that my bravado from seconds before is fucking pointless. He’s stronger than me, and I’m helpless and bound. He’s going to take whatever the fuck he wants, and there’s not a goddamn thing I can do about it.
While I swing and try not to throw up, I hear the door open. I’m in too much pain to worry about being naked, and when another man starts speaking in Russian, my first thought is that someone else has come to join in the fun. Blood fills my mouth from where my teeth have cut my gums, and another sob escapes as a fear unlike anything I’ve ever known washes over me.
Radek grabs my chin, squeezing and pressing his fingers into my aching jawline as I come to a stop in front of him. My toes scrape the rough floor, trying like hell to gain purchase so I can take some weight off my arms and shoulders.
“We’re not done, sweetheart,” Radek growls at me, clearly pissed at being called away. “When I come back, I’m going to finish what I started, and there’s not a damn thing you can do to stop me.”
He laughs and drops my face, bringing his hand down to squeeze my breast before leaving the room. The man who came and got him gives me a wink and then shuts the light off and closes the door, leaving me to hang in darkness.