Chapter 13 Wren
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
WREN
Someone is whispering in Russian. Before I’m even fully awake, my body tenses, knowing that can’t be good.
Please let this just be a dream.
I feel around me and find myself still in the enclosed trunk; the car is bumping along slowly, as if on an unpaved road. How long have I been unconscious? Minutes? Hours? My head throbs where I must have been hit, and I feel what I’m guessing is blood, trickle slowly down the side of my head.
The voices grow louder, and I feel all around me for something to use as a weapon, but find nothing.
Why hadn’t I insisted that I get my own knife?
They said they’d teach me how to use one, but we hadn’t started training yet.
If I ever get out of here, I’m going to demand they teach me immediately, and I’ll never go anywhere again without some sort of weapon hidden on me.
I strain my ear toward the front, trying to listen to their conversation. They speak Russian, so I have to translate it to English in my head.
“No. You know what the boss said.”
“So what? He never has to know we touched her.”
I inhale sharply, my eyes widening with fear. They’re talking about touching me. This can’t be good. But information is power, so I force myself to keep listening.
“She could tell him.”
“Why would she?”
“For all she knows, he told us to do that. Besides, we can convince him that the convicts did it.”
“Don’t even think about it, Sven. Ivan will kill us both if he ever finds out.”
“Fine, fine. Maybe after he’s broken her in, he’ll share. Like he usually does?”
“I think this one might be different. But I heard he’s pissed. She was supposed to come compliantly, but something happened with Blackburn, and she ran off.”
“That can’t be good. What about the deal?”
“I’m not sure. Ivan delivered his side of it, but Blackburn didn’t fulfill his end. And the fact we’re the ones bringing her in, not his men, can’t be good news for him.”
I rest my head back to digest that information.
A couple of minutes pass, and the car slows to a stop.
My heart hammers wildly in my chest as I try to think of a plan to escape.
The only things I have learned are that there is tension between my brother and Ivan, and that Ivan might kill these guys if they touch me.
An idea comes to life, and I reach up, wincing when my fingers touch the gash on my temple.
I swipe my fingers gently through the blood, then move my hand down, smearing it over my thighs and between my legs.
I do this a couple of times, and even though it feels disgusting, I’m hoping this gives me the chance I need to get away when the time comes.
A car door slams, making my prison rock from the impact, and I remind myself to take deep breaths and try to stay calm.
Just hold on a little longer. They’re coming for you.
I hear muffled voices and the sound of keys to my right. I barely have time to brace myself before the trunk lid raises and sunlight pours in, momentarily blinding me. I shield my eyes with my hands, then someone grabs my wrist and hauls me out of the trunk.
“Ow!” I cry as he wrenches my arm so hard it makes my shoulder ache.
Once my feet are under me, he releases my wrist, and I grab my elbow, supporting my arm as I try to take some of the strain off my wrenched arm socket. Hopefully, he didn’t injure anything permanently.
I scowl at him as I ask, “Was that really necessary?”
His eyebrows raise in surprise. “I thought you were meek little mouse, no?” His thick Russian accent comes through as he smirks down at me while the other man closes the trunk.
“The boss is going to have fun with you,” the second man says as he shoves me in the direction they want me to move.
I walk behind asshole number one as I finally take in my surroundings.
In front of us is a large warehouse, with metal walls that must be at least forty feet high.
We’re parked in a gravel lot that surrounds it, and the place is littered with stacks of crates.
I don’t even want to guess what's inside them.
Cold air hits my legs, and I shiver, feeling too exposed as I realize I’m only wearing my short pleated skirt and crop top. It’s September now, and we are much further north than I’ve ever been.
Before we reach the warehouse, the man behind me clamps a hand on my shoulder to stop me moving forward. “Wait,” he says, and I stand still, holding my arm as I try to remember my plan. But I guess that depends on whether I even see—
Before I can finish that thought, a door in the warehouse bangs open and Ivan himself steps out, with all the authority you’d expect from the leader of the Russian mob. My skin prickles as he takes me in. I’ve never shown him so much skin before, and I feel exposed.
He walks right up to me, stopping a few feet away as his eyes trail up and down my body. I see the second he spots the blood on my thighs and hold my breath, praying this will work.
“What happened here?” he asks, his voice bordering on feral. Though I don’t try to convince myself it’s me personally that he’s concerned about, it’s his property.
“They raped me!” I cry out, yanking my shoulder out of the man’s hold and running to cower behind Ivan, as if he will save me from them.
I know this is risky; Ivan is definitely the most dangerous person here, but I’m counting on the fact that he remembers me as a meek little obedient girl.
And if what they said is true, he might just eliminate them.
“No, wait!” One of the men yells before two deafening gunshots ring out.
BANG! BANG!
I jump, as I stare in disbelief at both men lying on the ground with bullet holes in the middle of their foreheads.
Holy mother of muffins! It actually worked.
With no time to waste, I enact part two of my plan: hide-and-seek.
Before Ivan can turn around, I take off between two stacks of crates to my right and start weaving through the random piles, thanking whoever's bright idea it was to cover this area with these, giving me the perfect maze to get lost in.
Ivan calls for more guards, who must have been inside the warehouse. He yells for them to spread out and search for me.
I don’t stop moving, running as quietly as I can, as I keep my eyes open for a good hiding spot. If I can just stay hidden for long enough, the guys will find me. I’m sure of it. I glance down, and dread fills me when I see that my smartwatch is missing.
My blood runs cold as I realize the guys might not be coming as quickly as I hoped. Those two men must have noticed my watch; they probably put it in a vehicle heading in the opposite direction, or they just threw it out the window. That’s what I would have done.
I try to keep the tears at bay as my hope of rescue starts to dwindle and stop behind a stack of crates to catch my breath.
“That’s not nice,” Ivan’s voice calls from somewhere across the yard. “Running away after I defended your honor like that.” I huff out a silent laugh. Defend my honor, my ass. He was just mad they touched what he thinks belongs to him.
“You don’t need to be scared, Wren. I’m not going to harm you.”
Did he actually believe I ran because shooting the men scared me?
Was he that stupid? Or just arrogant enough to not even consider that I didn’t want anything to do with him?
He must have known why I ran from Robert’s house.
Although it sounded like their relationship was strained.
Either way, the man either wanted to kill me, hurt me, enslave me, or breed me.
And I wasn’t fond of any of those options.
And what if Robert had told him about my claustrophobia and he used it against me? I’m not sure what I’d agree to just so I didn't have to go back in an enclosed dark space again.
Deciding I needed to get out of this yard and into the trees on either side, I start moving again, a little slower and more cautious now that I don’t know where he is.
The tips of the trees get closer and closer as I weave through the crates. Just as I round a particularly high stack, thinking freedom is within reach, I stop short and swear.
Chyort poberi! A seven-foot chain link fence topped with barbed wire stands between me and my freedom. Does it surround the whole yard?
A stone scatters behind me, and I turn right and start running for a minute until I reach a dead end, crates surrounding me on three sides. I start to backtrack, but I can hear someone's footsteps moving closer.
I freeze, my eyes scanning for somewhere to hide. Crouching down, I see a gap under a crate that looks just big enough for me to hide in. If one of them stands in front and looks this way, they’ll definitely see me, but I have no other choice.
I drop to my knees and wince as the gravel cuts up my hands and knees as I squeeze myself into the small space as quietly as possible.
My heart is beating so rapidly that I can literally hear it pounding in my ears. I’m not sure if it’s mainly from the fear of Ivan finding me or the claustrophobia. At least it isn’t dark, and one side is completely open. Although those were also the reasons Ivan had a decent chance of finding me.
Footsteps grow louder, and I hug my knees, pressing my mouth between them to try to hide my ragged breaths. I remain as still as possible, and when I see Ivan’s shoes come into view, I try to smother the whimper that wants to escape.
He stops right outside my hiding spot, and I squeeze my eyes shut tight.
He’s found me.
A gunshot goes off somewhere in the distance, and I gasp against my knees, my eyes flying open as I slap my hand over my mouth, hoping he didn’t hear me. Yelling and more gunshots ring out from somewhere further away.
What’s happening?
One of the guards yells for Ivan, and he curses. “Poshyol ty!”
He quickly starts to move away as my eyes grow impossibly wide in shock. He didn’t see me? And who’s firing guns? Could it be that my guys have somehow found me? A guy like Ivan is likely to have many enemies, though.
I decide my safest option is to remain hidden. I don’t want to have gotten this far just to get hit by a stray bullet.
I press my forehead to my knees and try to ignore the fact that I feel trapped. When the walls start to press against me, I quickly turn my eyes to the opening, reminding myself that I’m not stuck in here, and that helps the crushing feeling to subside a little.
It doesn’t stop the tears from quietly rolling down my cheeks as gunshots and yelling ring out.
What if the guys are out there and they leave, thinking I’m not here? Should I see if I can find out who’s there? But Ivan’s men could be all over the yard. The second they see me, I’m screwed. I know I can’t outrun them, not with the looming fence surrounding the place.
In the end, fear decides for me, knowing my legs will crumble if I try to move from this spot.
Instead, I take a few breaths and try to remember what my guys have said on multiple occasions.
That if I am taken again, they’ll never stop looking for me.
I think about how Sly was hit in the face, and the tears start running faster.
What if he’s dead? What if the others didn’t realize what happened soon enough, and he died?
Did they shoot him? Everything happened so fast, I can’t remember if I saw a gun.
I sniffle then freeze, realizing everything has gone quiet—no gunshots, no yelling, no pounding footsteps. The noises had gotten so loud that I was drowning them out, and I'm not even sure what the last sounds I heard were.
Should I go check it out now?
No, I need to wait a while in case Ivan won, and he’s waiting for me to reveal myself to him by accident. I hug my knees tighter and start counting to pass the time.
When I reach seven hundred and eighty-six, I stop counting as a small noise reaches me. My body tenses as my ears strain to hear it again. The sound of a small stone hitting something confirms what I feared. Someone is walking in this direction.
Suddenly, a pair of shoes appears in my view, and I try to hold in the sob that wants to burst from me. He must realize it’s a dead end because he stops walking, as Ivan had, and slowly turns in a circle.
He takes one step back the way he came, and hope fills me.
He didn’t notice me!
But suddenly, he stops, moves back a step, and drops to one knee, his sharp green eyes connecting with mine.