48. Lev
The abandoned warehouse is a derelict structure beneath an overpass in Brooklyn. We drive into the desolate parking lot filled with garbage, debris, and graffiti, and through the smashed timber wall of the warehouse, I can see what looks like a body hanging from the rafters.
Brooke.
I’m out of the car before Feliks even pulls it to a stop and move quicker than I’ve ever moved in my life to reach her.
I’ve seen a lot in my life, most of it bloody and gruesome, so it would be safe to say I am desensitized to a lot of things. But seeing Brooke strung up and beaten to a bloody mess in that abandoned warehouse is not one of them. It’s not one of them by a long fucking shot.
She’s out cold, her swollen eyes closed, her mouth slack. “I’m here, zayka. I’ve got you.”
The mudak has tied her with rope and not chains, which is a relief for me because it means I can cut through it with the knife I keep on me. But Vlad’s choice of rope over chains would not have been a relief for Brooke when he was torturing her. He chose rope because rope burns the skin, and the more the victim struggles, the more the rope will cut deeper into the layers of flesh.
Wave after wave of rage flows over me, colliding with the overwhelming fear that she’s not going to make it.
The blade of my knife slices through the rope like butter, and Brooke falls against me just as Feliks runs in.
“Call an ambulance,” I yell at him.
“But, Pakhan, the police—”
“I don’t give a fuck about any of that. Call the fucking ambulance. We’ll deal with the police later.”
He reluctantly makes the call. I understand his hesitation. The EMTs will have a duty to call the police. This will become a crime scene. In my world, when the police start sniffing into anything you’re involved with, it can lead to a lot of complications. Interests get piqued. One discovery leads to another. The situation can snowball, and before you know it, what started as just a parking ticket gets you twenty years for murder. But I don’t give a fuck. Getting Brooke to a hospital and receiving the treatment she needs far outweighs the mess I will have to clean up afterward.
I slump to the floor with Brooke in my arms, my heart breaking when I see exactly what Vlad has done to her beautiful face. It’s swollen, and I can see the cut from the ostentatious diamond ring he wears on his little finger, and I know I am going to cut that damn ring off his hand and shove it deep into one of the many bullet holes I put in his body.
“I’m so sorry, zayka,” I whisper, holding her bruised body and praying for the first time in my life, asking God to let her live.
I notice the old wooden chair on its side on the damp floor, rope tied to the armrest. What did they do to her in that chair before stringing her up?
The thought is complete and utter agony.
“It’s going to be okay,” I cry into her hair. “I promise you I will take care of this.”
The EMTs arrive in a piercing hail of sirens and lights, and when they see how broken she is, they are quick to load her into the back of the ambulance.
I go to climb in after her, but the EMT puts his hand on my chest to stop me. “Who are you?”
I know he’s doing his job, but he’s making a big mistake trying to get between me and my girl. And right now, I’m not opposed to breaking a few bones to ensure that never happens again. “I’m the man who’s going to blow your life up if you don’t let me in the back of that ambulance.”
“That’s all very well and good, but I need to know who you are to this woman. How do I know you didn’t do this?”
The mere suggestion makes me see red. For a moment, my vision turns black, and my brain rocks on its axis. When I come right, my face is so tight with rage that I can barely get the words out. “This woman is everything to me.”
That’s enough for the EMT. He lets me climb aboard.
“Meet me at the hospital,” I tell Feliks.
The ambulance takes off into the afternoon with all lights and sirens. On the gurney, Brooke begins to come to and starts to panic, and the more she awakens, the more she panics.
I grab her hand. “I’m here, zayka. You’re safe.”
She can barely see me through her swollen eyes, but when she does, she softens and relaxes. “It hurts,” she moans, and the sound is pure fucking agony to my ears.
The EMT gives her something for the pain. “This will take the edge off until we can get you to the hospital.”
A lone tear rolls down her bloody cheek, and it turns my stomach inside out. I drag her hand to my lips and press a kiss to her skin. “I’m so sorry he hurt you because of me.”
She tightens her fingers around mine, but then the pain medication takes over, and her grip on me loosens, and she slips into a medicated sleep.
We arrive at the hospital fifteen minutes later.
“I’m not leaving her,” I growl in a voice I’ve never heard before.
“You need to get out,” the doctor says, not giving a damn about who I am or the violent storm on my face. Just like the need to protect her is entrenched in me, the well-being of his patient far outweighs anything he may think the man standing before him with a gun in his suit jacket is capable of. “Out,” he demands again.
“Come on, Pakhan,” Feliks says. “Let them help her.”
Knowing it’s in Brooke’s best interests, I oblige and let Feliks pull me out of the room.
“You’ve always kept your emotions in check, Lev. Now is not the time to let them run havoc on everything around you. You need to remain calm.”
I pace the floor. I’ve never let myself feel this level of emotion before, and I don’t know what to fucking do with it. Fury vibrates through my body with immeasurable ferociousness. But it is nothing compared to the astonishing fear I feel when I think I could lose her. Just thinking about Brooke losing her life sends a new surge of panic and fear through me. Christ, why are they taking so long?
Sensing the turmoil unleashing inside me, Feliks places his hands on my shoulders. “She’s strong and she’s determined. She is going to pull through, and when she does, you are going to be here to protect her and give her anything she needs.”
“If she dies—”
“It’s not an option.”
I hate that I sound so weak. I’ve always been fearless. But Brooke has brought something so enticing and pure into my world of darkness and blood and sin, and the thought of losing it fucking terrifies me. I’m not afraid of falling in love with her. I’ve already done that, I’m sure. But I’m afraid of living in a world where she no longer exists.
I start to pace again, because if I don’t, my emotions will find another way to escape, and that usually doesn’t bode well for anyone who gets in my way.
It feels like a lifetime before the doors open, and the doctor appears.
“You’re the husband?” he says.
I don’t correct him. Because short of storming in there with all guns blazing, lying about who I am will be the quickest way for me to see her.
“Yes,” I say. “How is she?”
“She’s going to be okay. Apart from some deep bruising, her injuries are superficial and will heal quickly. But I’d like to keep her in overnight for observation.”
The relief is like a rush of warm water through my body. Muscles soften, my shoulders relax, and my pounding heartbeat begins to ease.
“She’s still unconscious, but when she awakens, I will discuss doing a rape kit.”
My eyes fly to his.
A rape kit.
My breath catches in my chest. My world stops. My pulse rings in my ears.
I make a quiet vow to myself. If Vlad has raped her, then he will die tonight. Slowly. And when they find him, his tongue will be missing, and his severed cock will be shoved so deep into his throat they’ll need to cut his neck open to get it out.
“Can I see her?” I ask the doctor.
“Yes, you’re welcome to sit with her until we can allocate her a room.”
I follow him through the doors into the ER and to a cubicle where Brooke lies unconscious.
Her face is swollen, her lip cut and bloody, and I feel my insides tighten to the point of pain.
Christ, how could I have let this happen?
I take her hand and feel the emotion rush forward until my anger and pain sit heavy on my face, and the tears well in my eyes.
My zayka.
I kiss her hand, and my lips are warm against her cool skin.
“I will make this up to you,” I whisper.
She wakes up and starts to cry, and my heart dies a thousand violent deaths inside me.
“They want to do a rape kit.” I barely get the words out. Can hardly control my breathing.
“He didn’t rape me,” she says hoarsely.
The relief, the second wave for today, doesn’t dampen my plans for what I am going to do to him. But I am grateful that Brooke didn’t have to endure what could’ve happened.
One thing is for sure, I am going to erupt into Vlads life like a firestorm and burn his entire fucking world to the ground.