Chapter 38
Chapter Thirty-Eight
The few sips of water Victoria had managed before Yuri threw the bottle against the wall were hardly enough to keep her hydrated. The bottle lay on its side beneath the window. There was still water in it. She stared at it longingly, licking her dry lips. She needed more water. And food.
Damn Yuri!
If anything happened to her baby because of him…
She dug her fingers into the edge of the mattress, wishing she could inflict one of those moves she’d learned in Kyle’s self-defense class on Yuri.
By her estimation, it had been way past twelve hours since she’d had anything else to drink besides those few sips of water. That didn’t stop her bladder from crying out.
She glanced at the bathroom door. Sure enough, as she stepped closer to the door, the chain stopped her three feet away. That wasn’t happening, and asking Yuri to unchain her so she could use the facilities brought with it other hazards she didn’t want to open herself up to.
Baring herself from the waist down in front of him was a bad idea. Thus far, he hadn’t made any sexual advances, but there wasn’t a shadow of doubt he’d let her relieve herself in privacy. He’d want to do everything possible to continually degrade her. That was all part of his method.
She’d heard him go outside. If she wanted privacy, now was the time.
Orange bucket it is.
Moving quickly, she unzipped, then pulled down her pants and underwear and sat on the rim of the bucket.
Luckily, it was big enough and sturdy enough to support her weight, and the sounds were muffled by her body covering the opening.
When she was finished, she bit back an absurd laugh, given her circumstances.
Who knew toilet paper would ever be such a luxury?
After standing, she refastened her pants.
A gunshot rang out.
She spun, covering her head with her hands, and dropped to the floor, bumping into the bucket. When she was about to stand, another gunshot blasted. Was someone shooting at Yuri? Or was Yuri doing the shooting?
She hadn’t seen a gun on him. That didn’t mean he didn’t have one. Why wouldn’t he be worried about someone hearing the shots?
Footsteps sounded on the porch.
He was coming back.
She leaped onto the bed and huddled against the headboard. A smell wafted to her. Urine. The bucket lay on its side, the contents staining the old wood floor.
Seconds later, Yuri jerked open the door.
As he walked into the room, she noticed the black handgun tucked into his belt and the phone in his hand.
He pressed a button on the side of the phone, then stuck it in his back pocket.
His nose wrinkled as he took in the overturned bucket.
“You pissed. Now the whole house will smell like a toilet,” he shouted, spittle flying from his mouth as he advanced on her.
Watching him come closer unleashed the hidden side of her she’d been concealing from him. The one that was sick and tired of being berated. Sick and tired of being subjected to the whims of garbage like him.
“Maybe,” she said, rising to her knees and intentionally rattling the chain, “if you’d made the chain longer, I could have used the bathroom.
So if you want to blame someone for the smell, blame yourself!
” Her chest heaved from emotions that had been building since he’d drugged her, kidnapped her, then tied her up like an animal.
The next words raced from her mouth before she could stop them. “So fuck you, Yuri Petrov!”
Oh my God. Had she just said that?
She had, and she’d also just let the very not subservient genie out of the bottle. There was no putting her back in. She’d just played her hand, a very dangerous one that could get her killed.
His dark eyes flared so wide the whites of his eyes glowed in the dim light.
He rushed the bed and slammed his hand into her chest, shoving her with enough force to whack the back of her head against the top rail of the headboard.
Pain lanced through her skull like a thousand pounding nails.
She shook her head to clear her blurred vision just in time to see him raise his hand to strike her again.
This had to stop.
Being a victim has to stop! Right here. Right now.
She raised her forearm, blocking his hand from connecting with her face. His hand only made contact with her arm, sending another shaft of pain, this time to her forearm and shoulder.
“Stop it, Yuri. Just stop!” Her body shook at the realization that, for the first time ever, she’d physically fought back.
“What are you going to do to me?” she screamed.
“Kill me like you and Nikki murdered those poor people?” If it were possible, more of the whites in his eyes showed, and his lips twitched as he glared at her with enough venom to poison every ounce of blood in her body.
“That’s right.” She clenched her jaw, unable to stem the flood of resentment and rage that now flowed unchecked since he’d steamrolled back into her life.
“I know you and Nikki kidnapped those people and put their bodies in that lake. That’s where all that money came from, isn’t it? Isn’t it?”
He took a step back, as if she’d slapped him. Verbally, she had, and damned if it hadn’t felt good.
Instead of hitting her again, which she fully expected, he narrowed his eyes. “How do you know about that?”
Uh-oh.
By telling him she knew about his and Nikki’s conspiracy, she’d just made a blunder with life-threatening implications.
“Your FBI lover told you, didn’t he?” Yuri cocked his head, his expression bland, as if he were only now realizing the importance of what she’d inadvertently divulged.
“You told him about the lake property. Did you give him my money, too? Did you Vika?” he asked in a voice so calm it terrified her more than the threat of his fists.
She gulped.
The only reasons he was keeping her alive were to get his money and raise Kyle’s child as his own out of some twisted vengeance.
Having her under his thumb again to use and abuse would have been the icing on the cake, but she’d blown her bargaining chip—the money—sky high.
Yuri knew darn well if she’d told Kyle about the lake property, he would have interrogated her about the money and seized it. Which he had.
“Bitch,” he hissed, shaking his head and clenching his right hand into a fist. “I knew you were lying. Time has changed you. Not for the better.”
Anxiety and fear twisted her stomach into knots so tight they could never be undone.
Would stealing Kyle’s child be enough for him not to kill her? Or would he wait until she gave birth, and then kill her?
Either way, she’d just signed her own death warrant.
“It seems we will have to begin your training all over again.” He stepped to the bed, raising his fisted hand.
She shut her eyes tightly and gripped the headboard so hard her fingers cramped. This was going to hurt.
Yuri’s phone rang. Outside, she heard the low hum from a small airplane. She opened one eye enough to see him take the call.
“Are you finally here?” he yelled, then stormed from the room, slamming the door shut behind him. A moment later, she heard the front door to the house open and Yuri’s footsteps on the rickety porch.
She whipped her head to the door, staring at it. Between cringing against the headboard and tightening all her muscles as she waited for him to hit her, she could have missed it but didn’t think so.
He didn’t lock the door!
Now was the time. She had to get out of this house. If she stayed here, she’d die.
She darted her gaze around the room, searching again for something she might have missed.
Aside from cobwebs, the bucket, bed, and… The mattress.
Jumping off the bed, she flipped up a corner of the mattress to view the underside.
Nothing there either, except rusty springs, some so old they were about to break off.
The backside of one of the bedrails had rusted sufficiently to expose a piece of metal that might be sharp enough to cut through the plastic cuffs around her wrists.
But she had to work fast. Sooner or later, Yuri would return.
Using both hands, she tugged the mattress off the bed and began rubbing the straight part of the plastic between where it curled around both her wrists, back and forth against the jagged metal. “C’mon, c’mon.” Still rubbing, she looked over her shoulder. The sound of the airplane grew louder.
Faster. She had to work faster.
After a minute, sweat beaded on her forehead, but she’d managed to make a deep gouge in one of the cuffs.
When only a thin bit of plastic remained, she rubbed harder.
The cuff finally gave way, separating in the middle.
She stifled a cry, as the rusty metal dug into her wrist, drawing blood.
A silly thought came to mind: When was my last tetanus shot?
Not that it would matter if she didn’t make it out of here.
With renewed energy, she got to work on the other cuff, rubbing even faster and doing her best not to draw blood this time.
Minutes later, the second cuff split open and the chain fell to the floor in a clattering clump of metal.
She gasped, swinging her head to the bedroom door, but as far as she could tell, Yuri hadn’t come back inside the house.
On her tiptoes, she crept to the door, putting her ear against it to listen. No sound came from the other side. Slowly, she turned the knob and pulled the door open an inch. She peeked through the crack. The hallway was empty.
This all seemed too easy.
She opened the door enough to slip out, then padded through the hallway. In the living room, she stopped, holding her breath. The front door was barely a dozen feet away. She crept onward cautiously. A floorboard creaked, and she froze.
Nothing. No Yuri. No sound besides the steady thrum of her heartbeat pounding in her ears and the low whine of a plane getting nearer.
She made it to the door and opened it enough to see outside.
Cool wind blew into the house, and she gasped.
Not because the air was about twenty degrees colder than the last time she’d been outside.
The sight that met her eyes was anything but what she’d expected—an airfield.
Yuri stood at the end of the runway, one hand shielding his eyes from the sun as he watched a small plane bank right and descend. The runway couldn’t have been more than fifty feet from the house.
Two large piles of wood from collapsed structures lay on one side of the runway, with a dilapidated hangar on the other. Most of the airstrip was covered with grasses and weeds, as if it hadn’t been used in a very long time.
Creaking pine trees, their tops swaying in the wind, surrounded the airfield as far as the eye could see. Now she understood why Yuri hadn’t been concerned about gunshots attracting unwanted attention. Wherever this was, it was in the middle of nowhere.
How would anyone find her?
They won’t.
Kyle wasn’t coming to save her. Nobody was. It was up to her to fight for her baby’s freedom. And their lives.
A sedan sat twenty feet from the house at the end of a weed-covered dirt driveway. That must have been how Yuri had gotten her here. Her only chance was if he’d left the keys inside.
Taking a deep gulp, she tiptoed down the porch steps. One of the steps creaked beneath her weight, and she hissed in a breath, praying Yuri hadn’t heard the noise.
Her prayers went unanswered.
He turned, and his eyes went wide. Fear froze her in place as he stalked back to the house.
This is it. Move!
She raced down the rest of the steps and took off running toward the sedan as fast as her legs would carry her.
Run. Run faster or die!