Chapter 55 Agapē #2
His last words unleashed a monster inside me. “Roman! No!” I rushed for him, shoving against John’s chest. My arm tore free—only for a hand to clamp around my neck from behind, dragging me back like I was a paper doll.
I screamed. I kicked. I threw wild punches as I watched Roman being pulled away and pushed into the car that brought me to this wretched place.
“Let me go! No! Let me go! Roman! No! Stop! Roman!" I heaved, on the verge of spilling out the contents of my stomach right onto John’s shoes.
But John heard nothing. My feet dragged on the uneven ground, and I was passed into the arms of someone else.
Arms, chests, strong hands in my face and on my arms and back pushed me into the backseat of another unknown car, and the man got in too, ignoring my screams. Fucking Sergei.
The car lurched forward, and I fell back into the seat, immediately realizing that we were already speeding away! Away from my love, away from the man who held my whole heart and soul in his hands.
It all happened so fast! There was no warning! There was no time! There was just silence, and the biggest tragedy of my life unfolded within a minute.
"Fuck! You!” I kicked Sergei in the knees, screaming and jerking with every turn. “Fuck! Off! Let me go!”
He squinted, shielding his face from my boot, but I aimed higher and landed a kick right into his chest.
"Stop!" he bellowed, throwing himself onto me. "Calm down! These were Roman's instructions! Stop!" he shouted in my face, his eyes wide, red-rimmed, and unhinged.
In a wild fight, he threw his leg over my knees and pinned my wrists with his hands, holding me down with all his strength.
We sped past postcard landscapes—lush, green hills and old stone buildings—but I saw nothing. I was keeled over, sobbing into my knees.
I was blind, I was deaf, and I was paralyzed with grief. With the knowledge that the monster succeeded.
The car rolled to a slow stop beside a sleek private jet, but I wasn’t getting on there, no matter what Sergei did. Every minute I had spent obedient and meek in John’s trap now came back with a vengeance. Now, I had nothing to lose because I’d just lost the most important part of my life.
“Fuck! You! Don’t touch me!” I kicked at Sergei, refusing to exit the car. But cocksucker Sergei wouldn’t take no for an answer. He clasped his disgusting hands around my ankles and yanked me down the seat into the arms of the driver already waiting outside the car. “Stop! Let go! Let me go!”
I writhed like a snake in their arms, biting, scratching, and kicking, but it was no use. They carried me up the steps of the little airplane, cautiously dumping me on the floor.
"Stop, Sergei, please, please, just wait!" I scampered to my knees, grabbing the leather edge of the seat, begging.
He slumped into the wide seat in front and huffed like I’d already drained the last cell of patience from his body. Casually, like I wasn’t even there, he wiped his brow and opened the window blind.
Fuck, I hated him! Why the fuck did Roman send him?!
"No,” he spat back. “I made a promise, and Roman was very fucking clear. Sit down and put your seat belt on; we're leaving in five minutes." He gave out instructions, but there was no way I’d give up so easily.
So I crawled right to him, standing up on my knees. He flinched at the sight of me right at his feet, wide-eyed and in disbelief of my actions.
"Sergei, please, please just wait. Please, don't leave now!"
"Isla!” He leaned away from me but shouted louder. “Get a hold of yourself! Get the fuck up!" He shot up to his feet and grabbed my arms to pull me up, but I jerked back.
"Please, please let's go back! Please! We can't just leave him, we can't, what the fuck! What the fuck is this?!"
"Roman asked for this, you idiot!” He got right in my face, flustered and furious. “We can't go back! He made me promise to do this, okay?! Now, get the fuck up—we have to go!"
There was something…something boiling inside me, about to spill over. Something I’d never felt before. It was fucking feral. It drove me forward, fearless, reckless, and ready to rip the world to shreds.
With incredible determination that I’d never experienced before, I rose to my feet and met him face-to-face. He was pissed. He was taller. And he wasn’t going to fucking listen. So I thought no more about it—I pulled my arm back and swung my fist right into his eye.
Pain crashed my knuckles, searing all the way up my arm. The punch was weaker than I’d imagined, but Sergei stumbled back in utter shock, his hand flying to his face.
The hum of the jet engine surrounded us, and we stood in front of each other, both panting, me from the pain in my hand, Sergei from the realization that I’d just punched him.
For a second, I thought he was about to launch his massive fist into my face, but he just stared at me, jaw clenched, breathing hard, fingers still clutching his cheek.
"I don't fucking care about your promises.” I stepped closer to him, carefully pronouncing every word.
“We’re going back. Weren't you in the fucking army?
Can't you hold a fucking gun?! What the fuck is the matter with you?
!" I spat at him, feeling my anger about to make its way onto his body again.
"Haven't you ever loved anyone, Sergei? Or are you only capable of living like a beast?” I was shaking, my body buzzing with all the pain I’d been through.
“I'm not fucking leaving here. I would rather die than live without him.” I came closer, as if my words would crawl into his brain and he would change his mind.
“Do you understand me? We’re going back. "
My voice died down, and it was clear that I wasn’t discussing it further. Instead, I pushed right past a stunned Sergei and kicked the cockpit door open, startling the poor pilots getting ready for take-off. “Kill the engines. We’re not leaving.”
The two pilots froze, glancing at me, then flicking their eyes over my shoulder to Sergei, unsure who the hell to listen to.
I turned to him, ready for another brawl. "If I have to kill you to get to Roman, I fucking will. Fucking try me. So, either you’re going with me, or I’m going alone. Your choice.”
Goddamn cockroach Sergei still held onto his cheek, but his shoulders sagged and he dropped his arms at his sides, finally giving up.
"Fuck!" he roared, whipping away from me. "Fuck you, Isla!” He turned on his heel and pointed his finger at me, fury burning in his eyes. “This whole fucking mess started because of you!" He accused me.
As if I gave a fuck.
"Yeah? Whatever helps you sleep at night, asshole!” I shouted back with the same energy. “This all started when you decided that killing my dad was a great fucking idea. So you have no one to blame but yourself, you dick!"
God, it felt amazing to finally say it to him, to finally show him just how much I fucking despised him.
Sergei had no comeback. He pulled out his phone and dialed a number, huffing and impatiently waiting for someone to pick up.
He spoke urgently, half shouting in rapid-fire Russian, but I couldn’t even pick apart one word. Thanks, Duolingo, you useless piece of shit.
I stayed planted near the cockpit, the pilots hovering behind me, waiting for someone to take control. We all watched Sergei pace like a trapped animal, switching between curses and orders, loudly speaking into the phone.
Finally, he hung up and let out a long, exasperated sigh. “I really fucking hate you, Isla.” He shook his head, glancing in my direction. “If we don’t die tonight, Roman’s definitely going to kill me now.”
Victorious, I shrugged. “I sure fucking hope so.”