43. LACEY #2
Fingers slid up my inner thigh. Heat rose in my chest—not from shame, but from the effort of holding perfectly still while bile burned the back of my throat.
“She’s out cold,” he said over his shoulder, his palm cupping my crotch brazenly.
The other chuckled. “Bet she’s good to fuck though. We can split her in half, do whatever we want. Delgado said so.”
The first man gripped my ass, kneading hard enough to bruise. “Shame she ain’t awake for this. Might be fun to hear her beg.”
Every nerve in my body urged me to react—to kick, to claw, to rip him apart—but I forced myself to remain still.
“Can’t believe she’s still out,” he muttered, his fingers trailing lower.
“Delgado’s got a mean right hook when he’s pissed. I’m surprised he didn’t knock her teeth out,” the other said. “Come on. Let’s get some food. Tequila. We’ll make a night of it.”
The hand slid off me, and their footsteps shuffled off into the distance.
A door creaked open, then slammed shut.
Silence.
I opened my eyes.
This was it—my one chance.
I glanced up, hope sparking in my chest. The cuffs weren’t locked to the chain—they were merely looped over the hook.
My hands were purple and numb; they looked like they belonged to someone else. I wasn’t sure they would even work. My shoulders screamed every time I shifted, but I wasn’t going to die here. And Nik sure as hell wasn’t going to die because I couldn’t move my ass.
I shifted my weight onto one hand, allowing the other to receive some much-needed circulation.
Then I willed my fingers to move, flexing them one at a time and grinding through the pins-and-needles burn until sensation was restored.
Pain ripped through my shoulder as I curled my hand around the chain, but I gritted my teeth and held on, working my other hand and willing it back to life.
It took some time—several agonizing, breath-stealing minutes—before my hands obeyed me enough to securely grip the chain.
Now for the hard part.
Using my core, I pulled my knees up toward my chest in an effort to get my legs to wrap around the chain above my head. My feet scrabbled for the chain. Finally, as sharp pain lanced through my ribs, I got my legs to hook it.
I clamped them tight and wrenched my cuffed wrists up and over the hook.
For a moment, I just hung there, legs wrapped around the chain. I rolled my shoulders out in short, shallow movements while I fought to stay conscious.
One slip, and I could crack my skull open on the concrete below.
I gripped the chain with my hands, lowered myself, and finally let go—landing in a crouch.
Breathing raggedly, I surveyed the cavernous room. No way was I leaving through the loud rolling metal door.
I darted over to the table of cleavers and knives, spotting a small blade I might be able to use. I found a set of keys and grabbed them too, then turned to scan the room for an escape route.
I quickly found the wall on the opposite side of the room where there was an exit sign—thank you, building codes.
This led me to a smaller door with a window, which let outside.
Before I dared to push it open and make a run for it, I leaned against the wall and took a deep breath.
It was unlikely I’d be able to get out of here without encountering at least one of Delgado’s goons.
If I was going to have any chance of fighting someone off, I needed to free my hands. God, I hoped one of these keys worked.
I jammed the first key into the cuffs. Nothing. Then the second… Still the lock wouldn’t budge.
The third clicked, and the cuffs opened.
I tossed them aside and bolted through the door, gripping the small knife, ready to run, ready to fight.
And ready to make sure Nik never stepped foot on that goddamn jet.
The freezing air that hit me was brutal, slicing through what little fabric I had left on my body. My feet slapped against the pavement. Who knew what they’d done with my shoes? I didn’t know where the hell I was—only that I had to keep moving.
The memory of one of Delgado’s men drifted back to me.
“Only a few blocks away from her.”
I pushed harder, my lungs burning as I shot down the street. I was surrounded by warehouses and small shops that weren’t open yet. When I finally stopped to catch my breath, I ducked into the shadows of a narrow alley and forced my shaking legs to hold me upright.
I paused to focus on the nearby street signs, and my heart leaped—I knew this area. The Sacrifice used to stand only a couple of blocks from here.
That meant I could reach Teterboro in time.
That meant I still had a chance to save him.
Move, Lacey.
I crept out into the street, searching for a cab. I needed to find someone—anyone—who was willing to help me. The few cars that passed me didn’t even slow down. A jolt of panic went through me. Of course no one was stopping—I looked like a beaten-up whore.
Then, a yellow cab rounded the corner. I didn’t think—I stepped directly into its path, forcing it to brake hard enough to skid.
The driver shouted something at me, but I was already yanking the back door open and sliding in.
“Where to, crazy woman?” he demanded, shaking his head.
“Teterboro Airport,” I gasped.
“Which building?”
Building? Think Lacey . I shut my eyes, desperately searching my memory of the men’s conversation. Something about a shiny new toy…
“Jet Aviation!” I shouted.
He glanced at me in the rearview mirror. “You got cash? Card? Are you hiding your money in that little dress?”
“I was attacked. It’s a long story. I promise I can pay you when we get there,” I said, my voice cracking with urgency.
“I’m not running a charity here. Prove you can pay, or get out. I ain’t getting stiffed.”
Desperation clawed at my throat. Then my eyes landed on my wedding band.
I yanked it off and shoved it through the little plastic window. “Here. It’s platinum. Check the inside. Trust me, it’s worth more than the fare to Teterboro.”
He held it up to the light, his expression shifting from skepticism to interest. Then he pocketed it. “Fine. But sit back and don’t make a mess in my cab.”
“Just drive,” I snapped. “Fast.”
He did.
The ride blurred into streaks of light as the dull pounding in my skull increased. My fingers curled into fists in my lap. Each mile seemed to take an hour.
When we rolled up to the glass-and-marble facade of Jet Aviation, I was out of the cab before it fully stopped.
Inside, the lobby was all polished floors and silent judgment. Men in suits. Women in heels. Not one of them looked like they’d been hanging from a meat hook minutes ago like me.
Every pair of eyes tracked me—barefoot, filthy, makeup smeared down my face, my cheek swollen, my lip busted from Delgado’s punches.
I swallowed the panic clawing its way up my throat. I didn’t have time for this.
Then fate cracked the door wide open for me.
A little boy dressed like a miniature CEO stopped in the middle of the doorway leading to the ramp, apparently curious about the sliding door. I bolted after him and slipped through before anyone could stop me.
“Hey! You can’t go out there!” someone shouted behind me.
I ignored them.
The ramp stretched out in front of me, glittering with rows of sleek, private jets. My gaze whipped back and forth. Which one is his?
Not wanting to waste a second, I took off running, weaving between ground crew and gleaming metal wings. My panic twisted tighter with every step—until I saw him.
Nik.
He was striding toward the stairs of a fancy plane, Rory at his side, clearly unaware of the trap waiting for them.
I ran.
My lungs screamed for air, but I didn’t dare stop—not until I was close enough to yell his name. I could only pray he heard me before it was too late.
“Nikolai Aleksandr Volkov!”
My scream ripped out of me, cutting across the roar of engines and the chatter of ground crew.
He turned.
“Bomb!” I screamed.
For a second, everything froze. His eyes locked onto mine, Rory pivoted toward me, and then they were running away from the jet, fast.
The explosion went off before they had made it halfway to me.
BOOM.
Chaos erupted all around.
The jet’s tail broke free from the fuselage, tumbling end over end across the tarmac.
The shockwave punched the air from my lungs, flinging me backward. Heat rolled over me, biting my skin, shoving grit and smoke into my mouth. My ears rang so loudly that things became almost silent.
When I could breathe again, I found myself sprawled on the ground. Debris drifted down like dirty snow as flames billowed into the sky. My gaze darted through the haze until I found them—Nik and Rory. They were on the ground.
“No—no, no, no!” I clambered forward and then ran to them.
Rory was already climbing to his feet, but not Nik. He was motionless.
I dropped to my knees beside him.
“Nik! Please, my king, you promised me—you promised not to leave me! Remember? If you go, I go!” I shouted, my voice cracking. Afraid to touch him, I leaned in as close as I could, searching for breath, for life, for anything.
His lashes fluttered, and then he smirked—blood on his cheek, soot across his jaw. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”
Relief slammed into me so hard I collapsed against him. He pulled me into a gentle kiss, and the shot of pain from my busted lip didn’t matter. Instantly, all was well. We were sitting in the middle of hell, but his touch steadied me. He was the only calm in the firestorm.
He sat up slowly and leaned forward, gripping his knees with both hands. He shook his head a few times, clearing the fog before his angry gaze locked on the burning wreckage of his plane.
Fire trucks barreled across the ramp, lights strobing, sirens screaming. Ground crew and first responders rushed toward the inferno, weaving through waves of orange flame and choking black smoke.
Nik’s entire body went rigid, his eyes flashing dangerously with rage. He scrambled to his feet, cursing in Russian, and began pacing, flexing his fists as if he needed something to break.
“It’s only an airplane,” I said softly, reaching for him. “You can buy another—”
He spun on me. “It’s not just an airplane. First Officer Jensen and our flight attendant were onboard.” His jaw clenched in a feral grimace. “Jensen has a baby girl—a toddler just learning to walk.”
The words hit me like a physical blow. My stomach turned, bile burning my throat as tears welled in my eyes.
We turned back to the wreckage. Flames curled skyward, heat rippling the air.
The stench of burning fuel, scorched metal, and seared plastic burned my throat.
The acrid smell mingled with the nauseating odor of something human in the fire.
Men emerged from the hangars—some shouting orders, others dragging hoses toward the blaze.
Nik put his arm around me, pulling me tight against his side. When he finally spoke again, his voice was venomous.
“This is bigger than Delgado. This stinks of the Kremlin and the current US administration—the same bastards who pay to rape girls on their private islands.” His grip tightened. “I’ve interrupted their sex trade. And now they’ve come for me.”
He glanced down at me and then back at the inferno.
Nik’s entire face was carved in fury, every muscle tight, his eyes blazing with a hatred that could burn through steel.
He wasn’t just angry—he was out for blood.
Whoever had blown up his plane had just signed their own death warrant.
“This war just went global. And it takes a bad man to wage war against other bad men—someone who knows their rules, their vices, their weaknesses. Someone willing to go as far as they do and be just as ruthless. I’ve walked in their shadows, Lacey, and I know exactly how to burn them to the ground.
But I’m not doing it alone. You and I—we fight together. ”
My chest constricted. “Together,” I said, squeezing him closer.
“I will kill Hayes. I will kill Delgado. And I will hunt down every last Mara Salvatrucha member, Kremlin thug, and US flesh trafficker—all the way up the chain to the fucking leaders of countries.” His voice was lethal. “I’m not bound by any borders. And it’s time to declare a new world order.”
His hand found mine, and his thumb brushed the bare skin of my finger. “Where’s your ring?” he asked, turning toward me.
Frowning, I glanced up at him. “The cab driver…” I shrugged. “It was the only way he’d bring me here.”
He squinted and shook his head. “You have the only ring you need. I marked you with ink and claimed you for life. But nobody takes what’s mine.”
I felt a flicker of pity for the cabbie, but my heart ached far more for the families of First Officer Jensen and the flight attendant.
Death had become too common in this world I’d stumbled into, a world crawling with predators who thrived on other people’s pain.
I’d lived na?vely until Nik walked into my life, blind to the rot festering beneath the surface of our society.
Now the veil was gone—ripped clean away.
Nik thought of himself as a monster, a man too dark to be saved—but I knew better.
He was the kind of morally gray man that hunted worse things in the shadows.
He was a weapon forged in violence, yes—but one wielded to shield the innocent.
My husband wasn’t the villain. He was the dark angel who waged war in hell’s shadows and walked with the devil, choosing to burn and shouldering damnation so the innocent could remain untouched.
The fire continued to rage, lighting the morning in a violent kaleidoscope of orange, yellow, and black. Nik and I stood side by side, holding each other close, lost in our thoughts as smoke curled around us.
He brushed his lips over the shell of my ear. “They’ve declared war,” he said softly. “Now they’ll see what happens when I fight with my queen at my side.”