Chapter 38
CHAPTER
THIRTY-EIGHT
GEORGIA
“Oh, fuck.” Jake’s voice is barely audible, but I hear the unmistakable note of panic.
“What?” I say, though it’s hard to speak with the rag in my mouth.
“Shit, this is really fucking bad,” Jake repeats, panic rising in his voice.
His words kick my pulse into high-gear and I spit the rag out of my mouth.
“Jake, what’s happening?” My voice is cold and commanding. Kira’s school friend is nice enough, but he’s in way over his head. Something bad is happening, and I have to deal with it, judging by Jake’s level of hysteria.
“I… I don’t know. A bunch of black SUVs have pulled up to the back of the building, and guys in dark military fatigues are entering the building.”
Fuck me. Black army fatigues are the Antonov guards’ signature uniform. “Jake, you need to untie me right now. These are Oleg’s guys, and shit is about to get serious.”
Jake slips the blindfold off of me and releases my arms and legs.
I join Jake by the window, our backs flush to the wall as we spy the action below. Just like he said, several black SUVs are parked haphazardly around the back entrance, as if creating a barricade, and a few armed men stand outside as guards.
“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.” Jake paces the room, his breaths coming out in heavy pants.
Fear claws up my throat. How did this all go so wrong?
My mind races with all the various scenarios and possibilities that may present themselves. All of them are bad. But still, I need to do something.
“Jake,” I say sternly. When he doesn’t settle, I grab him by the arm.
“Listen to me,” I hiss. “This is really serious. We need to warn Kira. You need to radio her about what’s happening.
” From what Jake told me earlier, we are on the third floor of the building and Kira and the Kozlovs are on the main floor.
He stares at me blankly. “Radio?”
“How are you communicating with Kira?” I ask, my nerves steadily rising.
He sighs and buries his face in his hands. “We weren’t supposed to need a radio. I can text her—”
Gunfire pierces the air, chilling my bones.
“No. Don’t do that,” I say, dropping to my knees and pulling the video feed out of the wall. “We don’t want anyone to know we’re here. We need to move now,” I say, grabbing Jake by his shoulder.
“What? Where would we go?”
“You will hide, and I will find a way to help them.”
Before we can move, the sound of heavy boots thumping over concrete carries towards us. Jake and I exchange a look, his expression one of frozen horror.
“Give me your gun,” I demand, palm splayed open. “Please tell me it’s actually loaded.”
“I don’t know. I’ve never used a gun before.”
I guess I’ll find out soon enough because our time is up. The door is kicked open and two hulking men dressed in all black appear.
Adrenaline charges through my veins. It’s us vs them. Either they die, or we will, that I am sure of. I take a chance on the gun in my hand and shoot. In front of me, a soldier’s body jerks as if electrocuted. His face is frozen as he falls to the floor, clutching his chest.
Holy shit, I’ve just killed someone.
More shots erupt around me. A movement in my peripheral vision catches my attention. Beside me, Jake is sprawled on the ground, his lifeless eyes staring up at the ceiling.
I’m nearly sick to my stomach, but I don’t have time to process the insanity of the moment because the remaining thug lunges for me.
I don’t think, I just react. My fist flies and I knock him in the teeth.
His bald head reels back, his mouth bloody as I scramble to lift my gun, but I’m not fast enough.
In a flash, he’s back in front of me, knocking the weapon from my hand.
“You little bitch,” he snarls. The ugly fucker comes at me with all his wrath. He grabs me by my hair and wrenches my head back, so I’m staring at his crooked teeth and snarling features. “If Oleg didn’t want you alive, I would choke the shit out of you with my bare hands.”
Despite his words, his hands rise and clamp around my throat. He squeezes, and my vision goes dark around the edges. Panic washes over me. My last thought is that I may never see Andrei again, and the pain of that realization is worse than being stabbed a thousand times.
“Enough, Rodrigo.” A familiar voice breaks into my consciousness.
No.
Oh hell, no.
“Hello again, Georgia.” Kristian’s gaunt face swims into my vision as Rodrigo roughly releases me. I choke and cough, fighting to draw in air.
Besides Oleg, Kristian—Oleg’s right-hand man—is the last person I ever wanted to see again. He gave me the creeps when I worked at the Antonov estate, and I heard just as many stories about Kristian’s blood-lust as I heard about Oleg’s sexual depravity.
“Funny meeting like this.” Kristian’s voice slithers down my spine. “We lost track of you for a time, but now I see you’re just fine. Have you been hiding out with the Kozlovs?” He shakes his head, tsking dramatically. “Oleg will be very displeased to learn of the company you’ve been keeping.”
Anger erupts under my skin, and I spit in his face. It costs me, as I knew it would. He backhands me hard, and my body flies back. I struggle to keep my footing as blood fills my mouth. Still, it was worth it.
“If that’s how you want to do this, we can play rough.
” Darkness seeps into his eyes, and he grabs me roughly by the neck, forcing me to stand.
“I’ll make sure Oleg knows you want it rough and dirty, too.
After we slaughter your friends downstairs, you’ll come with us.
And we’re going to have so much fun with you. ”
My stomach roils, but I fight to keep my head clear. I try to come up with a plan. A solution. A way out. Kristian remembers the weak, submissive girl from before. He doesn’t know what I am capable of now, and I can use the element of surprise to my advantage.
I take a deep breath and push all the fear in my body deep down, putting on a bland smile. “All right Kristian, let’s do this your way. The Kozlovs weren’t as much fun as I hoped. Let’s see what you got.”
A sneer twists his lips. He’s suspicious, no doubt, but my acquiescence is easier to deal with than my resistance.
“Time to join the fun downstairs.” His lips pull back in a sinister smile and his yellow teeth nearly make me gag. But I just shrug as if I’m not bothered by any of this.
Kristian leads the way, walking in front of me, while Rodrigo brings up the rear. His gun is pressed into my back, lodged between my shoulder blades. They don’t bother tying me up, the gun a potent reminder that if I make one wrong move, I’m dead.
I take a last look at Jake's prone body, making him a silent promise that if I survive today, he’ll get the proper burial he deserves.
They march me out of the abandoned upstairs office, through a byzantine maze of corridors and sharp turns.
Every step of the way, my eyes scan the space, looking for something, anything, I could use to attack them.
I’m well aware I don’t have the advantage here.
But that’s what my hours of training were all about—how to get the advantage when there isn’t one.
However, the gun pressed into my back makes this all the more complicated.
We come to a stop in front of an ancient-looking freight elevator. Kristian pulls up the steel doors and then lifts the gate, ushering us inside. Fuckwad keeps the gun pressed hard against my back.
“Going down,” Kristian whispers in my ear like the creepy fuck he is.
The elevator starts its slow, rickety descent, but he doesn’t take his eyes off of me.
“I can’t wait to see the bloodbath that awaits us downstairs.
” I nearly lose my lunch, but school my features into a neutral expression. He doesn’t deserve my misery.
A loud bang, followed by a jarring screech, rings out as the elevator comes to a sudden stop. “What the hell?” Kristian spits. “Don’t move a muscle,” he tells me, turning around to check the rudimentary control panel.
It’s the opening I’ve been looking for.
With Kristian distracted, I turn around and face the ogre Rodrigo behind me. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he barks at me, as he raises the gun and points it right at my forehead.
“Just you see.” I grab the gun with two hands, pushing it as high into the air as I can manage, while I duck out of the line of fire.
The gun goes off. My hands feel like burning coals, but I push through, delivering a swift kick to his balls before I attack inward, bringing the gun towards his belly.
The speed and power of my movements destabilizes him, and before he realizes it, the gun is mine.
I throw a fresh round into the empty chamber and shoot him in the head.
Shards of bone and brain matter spray my face, but I feel nothing right now except relief. But that doesn’t last long.
Kristian is on me in seconds—tackling me like a linebacker, slamming my back into the wall of the elevator.
I gasp as the wind is knocked out of me, and in that moment of weakness, Kristian wrestles the gun from my hand.
My fist shoots out and connects with his nose.
He roars as his head is thrown back, blood shooting everywhere, but it’s not enough to knock him out.
He grabs my hair, violently jerking my head back, the razor-sharp blade of a knife pressed against my neck.
“Big fucking mistake.” His breath is hot against my ear as he grinds his pelvis into me, rotating his hips.
I go motionless as terror becomes a live wire shooting through my body.
“Oleg was so looking forward to having you, and to be honest, so was I. But your behavior has been appalling and, frankly, you are not worth the headache.”
Another thrust of his erection to drive the point home, as the blade sinks into my flesh. I know this will be my last breath unless I strike now. Crocodile tears spring readily to my eyes, offering him the fear and panic that he craves.
“Please, don’t hurt me,” I beg, my voice comically desperate. “I never meant to make you mad. What can I do to make it up to you?”
He snarls, anger rippling from him. But also lust. When he pauses, I strike like a rattlesnake, my right hand pushing the knife away from my throat, as I knee him hard in the groin.
When he’s doubled over hissing in pain, I follow-up with another kick to his face and twist the knife out of his hand.
He scrambles after me, grabbing onto my leg, but I don’t give him time to do any more damage.
With a tortured cry, I plunge the knife into the back of his neck, quickly pulling the blade out and plunging it in again and again.
He releases a sickening gurgling sound and falls to the floor.
Never in my life could I imagine I would kill a man without thinking twice, but the proof of my actions lies in a pool of blood in front of me, twitching as his life slowly leaks out of him.
Shock nearly brings me to my knees, but I don’t have time to freak out over the fact that I’m in a jammed freight elevator with two dead men that I single-handedly killed.
I have bigger problems. Much bigger problems.
The man I love might be hurt, or worse, and I may be the only one who can save him.
At that moment, I hear a commotion below and the elevator restarts its slow journey downward. The disturbance must have alerted the guards.
Retrieving Rodrigo’s gun off the floor, I shove it down the front of my pants and lower my baggy hoodie over my body so the outline of the weapon isn’t visible. As soon as we hit the ground floor, the doors to the elevator open, and a mean-looking guard lunges for me.
“You little bitch, we’ve been waiting for you. Now you can answer Oleg.”
Good.
He’s playing right into my plan.