Chapter 5
G host finished taping a sheet of plastic to the floor.
He grabbed the hose from where it hung on the wall and dropped it to the ground.
Thankfully, last year he’d heat-traced and insulated the water lines throughout the property to avoid freezing in the event he didn’t make it back to shut off the water for the season.
Still no message from Rami, which meant he’d probably gone back to bed and left Ghost’s problems to deal with when he woke up. Muttering a curse, he returned his phone to his jeans and stalked across the workshop.
A gust of wind blew in and he bundled his coat beneath his chin. The woman would be freezing. The temperature was well below zero.
He strode through the snow drifts, following his footsteps from earlier. His gaze landed on the open car door and he froze.
“ Sonofabitch. ”
He broke into a run. How the hell had she gotten free? Fuck! He found her footprints and followed her path as if it were a trail of fucking breadcrumbs, his temper flaring with every step. Rather than escape down the driveway like a normal person, she’d gone for the woods.
Dropping another curse, he turned around and went back to the workshop to get his flashlight. He’d find the bitch.
Then he might just put a bullet in her head.
***
Mila raced down the slope of the mountain. Her feet kicked up snow as she ran. Her body ached for more oxygen, but the tape kept her lips sealed.
Not that she would’ve screamed.
She had no clue where they were. Because she’d fallen asleep, she couldn’t be sure how long they’d been in the car.
Alexei’s chastising voice entered her mind again. Another mistake, Malyshka.
Pressure crushed her chest. Her lungs screamed. Her anxiety surged. But she didn’t stop running. A steep hill came into view and she moaned.
Something stirred behind her. She froze and slipped behind a large tree trunk, listening. Closing her eyes, she held her breath and sought the rustling sound she felt more than heard.
Whisp , whisp , whisp
The steady, aggressive slapping of pine branches. He’d realized she was missing and was following her tracks.
Just freaking great.
Anchoring her gaze to the top of the hill, she sprinted. The sharp slope would be difficult to ascend without the use of her hands, but she’d climbed worse.
She trudged upward, her feet stinging with every step, feeling long gone from her toes. Her muscles ached and she commanded her body to send that stinging blood flow to her feet.
Mind over matter, Malyshka.
I know, Alexei.
The cold air burned her nostrils but she didn’t slow. If she lost momentum, she’d roll all the way down.
Advancing footsteps crunched behind her. Shit.
She reached the top and barreled down the other side without searching for an opening. Just missing a tree, she staggered onto a narrow path. Pine trees provided some coverage, but no other foliage shielded her.
He didn’t say a word. Didn’t shout. Didn’t shoot. He was in silent, strategic pursuit. The hunter after its prey.
For a moment she was back in the frigid Siberian Mountains.
Her toe caught a tree root and her knees hit the slope. She grunted as her face skidded against the ground and her ass went over her head. And then she rolled. Down, down, down.
She braced for impact, her muscles taut as she fought to tuck her head. Without the use of her arms—
Smack
The sickening sound of stone against her skull hit her before the pain. Her vision flickered. Heat spread across her face. She faded in and out of consciousness, the canopy of trees closing in around her. Once again she thought of the lonely darkness of those mountains sixteen years ago...
Crunch , crunch , crunch
The footsteps were slow, deliberate, maybe even angry. She couldn’t tell. Didn’t care. A figure blocked the moonlight. Her target’s red flannel jacket mixed with the red liquid leaking into her right eye.
He said nothing.
Nothing that she could process.
Hands slipped beneath her shoulders and knees and she was lifted into strong, unyielding arms. She waited for the berating, for the punishment. It didn’t come. It would.
He moved up the hill she’d just tumbled down with ease. The gray fingers of sleep clawed at her vision, wanting to pull her into an abyss. She clung to her senses. Passing out would be the most dangerous thing she could do besides tripping on that root.
She had to focus. Hang on to the present. Her captor’s—god, when did she become the target?—breathing was steady. Heat radiated from his chest. Despite the dread warping her reality, she wanted to burrow closer to his body.
Letting her cheek fall to his shoulder, she focused on inhaling and exhaling. All that did was allow his scent to overtake her awareness. Musk, cedarwood, and pine invaded her.
In a few minutes, he’d hurt her. Torture her to get what he wanted. But in these seconds, she hung in blissful purgatory. Warmth and safety for the here and now. The terrain changed. He continued to stalk through the snow without breaking stride.
She opened her eyes to study his bristly jaw. Dark hair waved away from his face, and the sides of his head were shaved. His eyes were fixated and hard.
Shivers took hold of her body, and the tremors were so violent her teeth slammed together. He curled his arms tighter around her, and for a flicker of an instant, she suspected he was trying to keep her warm. Then his arms relaxed a fraction.
The wind gusted, spilling her hair out of the pins that hadn’t already been shaken loose from her escape. The lapping of tree branches on his shoulders stopped, telling her they were out of the woods.
She closed her eyes, at war with herself. If she let the darkness pull her down, he wouldn’t be able to hurt her. She wouldn’t feel the pain. Or she’d wake up ravaged and maimed.
Neither was enticing.
Hinges groaned and the man’s boots stomped over cement. Bright fluorescent light filtered through her eyelids. He lowered her to the ground. Something crinkled beneath her. Plastic?
She opened her eyes, but as soon as the light hit her retinas, she winced and closed them again. A heavy hand rested on her head near her wound.
“You did a fucking number on yourself,” he hissed.
She kept her eyes closed, wishing that slumber would come now. It didn’t. Her senses were too heightened. He yanked his hand away and grabbed the binding at her wrists.
She groaned at the movement of her stiff, screaming arms.
“Too bad you couldn’t cut through this tape, too, huh?” The accusation was filled with disdain. “I’m guessing you grabbed my knife and are hiding it in your clothes.”
She didn’t flinch as he held her legs in place, probably to avoid another kick to the face. He paused, and his thumb slid over the fresh cut near her ankle.
“Guess I should’ve stripped you naked at the house.”
Her muscles tightened. If he tried, she’d gouge out his eyes.
In one swift movement, the duct tape was ripped from her mouth.
She hissed as her skin burned in its wake.
Before she could register what he was doing, his fingers were gliding over the top of her bra then sliding under the band.
Reflex made her kick her leg, but he stopped it with his meaty hand, pinning her knee roughly to the pavement.
“Nice try,” he crooned. Delving his hand between her legs, he ran his fingers over the seam of her shorts and around the waistband. Stopping, he snorted. “There it is.” Peeling down the back of her shorts, he pulled the knife from where it’d fallen against her ass.
She couldn’t stop the tension vibrating along her skin.
“Don’t get yourself wet, sugar.” He withdrew his hand and patted her cheek with his palm. “I wouldn’t fuck you if you begged, woman. Remember?”
Fury scorched her cheeks. She didn’t take her eyes off him.
His lips were curled with disgust and his brows were low over his menacing, stormy grays. He stood and returned with shackles and a chain. Fear hiccuped from her throat.
“We’re gonna keep those wrists tied. Tell you what, if you’re a good girl, I’ll tape them in front. But for now, you’re gonna have to deal with some discomfort.”
“Fuck you,” she spat.
The cold, heavy shackle slid around her ankle and the lock snapped. Following the chain to the wall with her gaze, she saw the slack wasn’t more than a few feet, and the other end was secured to a pipe.
He stood and picked up a metal bucket from across the room and placed it against the wall within her reach. “I’m sure you can figure out how to use that. No toilet paper for prisoners, though.”
Indignation flamed her cheeks.
He returned to her side and squatted. His hand came near her face and she flinched.
He paused, his fingers hovering near her head, then slowly brought a napkin across her forehead.
After mopping up the blood, he tossed the napkin into a garbage can in the corner.
“Look, whatever your name is, I can be a prick or I can be decent. The choice is yours. Tell me what I want to know and maybe I’ll clean that cut for you and get you a blanket. ”
She wrinkled her nose. “Go to hell, asshole.”
He sighed. “I knew you’d be difficult.” He got up and stalked to a hose she hadn’t noticed until now. “Unfortunately for you, I’ve got an abundance of time. I’ll keep you alive as long as necessary—until you tell me who hired you.”
She laughed. The sound was loud and brittle and foreign to her ears.
His jaw clenched. “What’s funny?”
She shook her head. “Oh, nothing. Just that you think I give a shit if I live or die. Go ahead, get your rocks off on hurting me. I promise you won’t be the first, and you probably won’t be the last either.”
Dark eyes weighed her as if he wanted to know more. Then his expression changed.
He pressed the handle on the nozzle and cold water blasted out. She gasped as he drenched her from head to toe. The frigid spray hit every inch of her—her face, her hair, her skin—unrelentingly.
He didn’t stop.