Chapter 25
Bordering On Delirium
Kai to Tess: You were never supposed to matter to me. You’re completely wrong for me. [unsent]
Tess
Despite the fact that I’ve been kidnapped and kept locked up in what’s essentially a glorified prison cell, I’m actually feeling pretty optimistic about my chances of survival.
Aristov—that’s the guy who stormed in after my screaming session—brings me whatever I ask for (within reason), and for the most part, I’m left alone.
Which, honestly, is kind of a problem.
I don’t like silence. It makes my skin crawl. So, I’ve started talking to myself.
At first, I kept it in my head, but I don’t really care if they think I’m crazy anymore. Now, I’m unashamed in my private ramblings.
“It’s been at least five days. I know because I’m on my period now, and I was five days out when they took me.
Unless I’m early? That’s a possibility. Stress does that.
But it feels like I’ve been here longer.
How long are they going to keep me? Will they ever let me go?
Are they going to kill me? They can try.
But I’m pretty crafty. I bet I could take one of them down with me. ”
My mind drifts to Kai, something I’ve been trying not to do because when I think about him, I cry, and my throat closes up.
I’m in denial that he’s gone.
“Maybe he looked dead, but he actually was alive and someone found him. Or maybe he’s become undead. Like a zombie. I think I’d still be with him if he was. I’d have to find a way to stop him from biting me though. Or maybe I let him bite me and we can be undead together.”
I fear I may be bordering on delirium at this point.
The door clunks open, yanking me from my thoughts. I stop pacing and step back automatically, muscles tensing.
They untied me after the first day, so I’ve made a habit of doing laps around my little prison—gotta get those steps in.
A pack of period pads and clean underwear hit me square in the face.
“The fuck?”
Aristov stands in the doorway, watching me like I’m a particularly nasty stain on his shirt. “You said you were on your period.”
I blink. “I—Yeah.”
An oddly considerate gesture from my kidnapper.
A clean set of clothes follows, landing at my feet. Black trousers. Black top.
“Get changed,” he orders. “It’s time.”
“For what?”
He doesn’t answer. Just grunts and slams the door shut.
Okay then.
I peel off my bloodied underwear, swap them for the fresh pair, and pull on the clothes.
What the fuck do they expect me to do today?
The door reopens a few minutes later and Aristov motions for me to follow him. Not wanting to anger him I trail after him like a good girl, only tripping once as we ascend some stone steps.
Bright lights greet me at the top and I have to squint to adjust after spending my time in a dark cell. There are men everywhere and something about it makes me want to shrink back. But, instead, I keep my head held high as I follow behind Aristov through the crowd.
He doesn’t look at me once, he’s so sure that I’m following him. If it wasn’t for the twenty or so other Russian men glaring daggers at me, I’d say now was the best time to escape.
Aristov leads me into what looks like an office, the air thick with the scent of leather and cigar smoke. Behind the desk sits the man who cornered me outside the gym, his gaze locking onto mine with a steady, assessing intensity that makes my skin crawl.
“Tessa. Lovely of you to join us.” He gestures to the chair across from him.
I sit, crossing my arms. “Not like I had a choice.”
He grins, all sharp teeth and amusement. “I suppose not. But no matter. You’re free now.”
I raise an eyebrow in suspicion. “I’m free?”
He stands, rounding the desk and coming to stand directly in front of me. He’s tall—I have to crane my neck to meet his eyes.
“You won’t be kept in the cell any longer.”
“Oh, how chivalrous of you.” I roll my eyes. It just makes him grin harder.
“You know,” he says, reaching out to twirl a strand of my hair between his fingers. I try not to flinch. “I’ve been watching you. For months now. If I had known before that you would be such a spitfire, I wouldn’t have paid that boy to kill you.”
My heartbeat is thumping in my chest, but I keep my expression bored, neutral. “You ordered him to kill me?”
His hand moves to cup my cheek. My knee comes up, catching him in the balls.
He doubles over, groaning in pain. Aristov moves to grab me, but the man holds up his hand. He breathes deeply, until he gets control of the pain. Straightening, he comes to loom back over me.
“It wasn’t personal, my love. Your father killed my brother. Tat for tit, as you might say.”
I stifle a laugh at his error.
“But then you killed him. What was his name?” He clicks his fingers. “Jake.” The look he gives me is of genuine admiration. “That got my attention. Now… well now I no longer wish you dead.”
“Lucky me,” I mutter, the sarcasm in my tone dripping with insincerity.
“Aren’t you interested in what I want now?” He studies me curiously, like I’m a puzzle he’s trying to solve.
I study my cracked nails, feigning boredom. “Not particularly.”
He shakes his head in bewilderment. “What is it about you?” His voice is barely more than a whisper.
I am actually curious about what he wants. But I’m really trying not to play into his game.
So I do what I do best.
I talk.
“It’s probably my personality. I think I have a certain charm—a je ne sais quoi if you will.
“But if I had to guess? It’s probably the trauma. Really adds to the allure, don’t you think?”
His lips twitch, like he’s amused despite himself. I take that as a win and keep going.
“Or maybe it’s the mystery. People love a good puzzle. Like those old-timey treasure maps where ‘X marks the spot’—except in my case, X just leads to a whole lot of bad decisions and emotional damage.”
I tilt my head, feigning deep thought. “But hey, I could be wrong. Maybe you’re just into the whole ‘woman who might stab me’ vibe—well, I’m more likely to off you with some kind of home lighting, but the point still stands. If that’s the case, I’d say you’ve got exquisite taste.”
“God, I could listen to you talk all day.” He hums to himself.
His words truly catch me off guard.
“But alas. We have places to be.” He flashes me another sinister smile. “Weddings to have.”
There’s no way I heard him correctly.
Right?
“Weddings?” I ask, taking the bait.
“Our wedding, to be exact.”
I try to take a step back, but Aristov crowds me from behind.
“I think you might have the wrong girl actually. I’m not really marriage material.
Do you know how many times a day I fart?
Too many.” At what point do I stop talking?
“You don’t want to deal with that. Plus!
I’m really high maintenance. Like, scarily so.
I’d need from now until—oh I don’t know—the end of time to get myself ready for the wedding. ”
“Enough,” the man barks. He wants me to marry him and he hasn’t even told me his name. Not really what’s important right now, Tess.
“Aristov, get her ready to go.”
How did I end up in a helicopter flying over New fucking York to my own wedding?
Oh, that’s right. It’s because after our delightful conversation, Aristov and the man I now know as Mikhail dragged me outside and threw me onto the waiting craft.
The sunlight was fucking blinding when we stepped out of what looked like a mansion, and I was roughly forced over to the helipad.
Somehow, I’m in America? That’s new information for me. I don’t think I’ve ever been outside of England before, yet they got me halfway across the world while I was unconscious after the car crash. My life is just one big roller coaster at this point.
Aristov has joined me, alongside the pilot whose face I can’t really make out behind his headgear.
We’ve been flying for ten minutes when Aristov’s gaze sharpens on the view outside. “We should be touching down soon.”
The pilot looks back briefly, catches my eye, then winks at me.
What the—?
The next moment he starts to bring the helicopter into a slow descent. I grip the edges of the seat as the air pressure changes and my ears pop painfully.
We jolt as we hit the ground, coming to a stop on top of a tall skyscraper. There are six scary looking guards all standing around with guns in hand.
Aristov steps off the helicopter first, telling me to wait with the pilot while he speaks with the guards. He makes it halfway across the roof when the helicopter doors close and the pilot starts the engine back up.
“What are you doing?” I shout over the roar of the engine and whirring of the blades.
The pilot doesn’t answer, just throttles the engine harder as we take off. Gunshots sound outside, bullets barely missing us as we twist and turn to dodge them.
We climb higher until we’re out of their reach and continue flying. I unbuckle my seatbelt, and I clamber into the front.
“Jesus. Fuck. Tess. Sit down!” an unmistakably familiar voice shouts.
My head whips to the pilot to take him in. “Nico?”
He grins at me, looking at me from the corner of his eye. “One and only, baby.”
I almost throw my arms around him, but I refrain so I don’t make us crash. “They said you were dead,” I cry, as tears begin to fall down my cheeks.
Nico’s expression grows serious before he puts his playful mask back on. “Didn’t know you cared that much, T.”
I whack him in the chest. “Of course I care! We’re friends.”
He winces. “Friends.” There’s a clear disappointment in his tone but I refuse to acknowledge it.
“Is Kai okay?” I ask in a rush, hoping that they lied about that too.
Nico grunts. “Other than a broken leg and broken heart? Yeah, he’s fine.”
“Broken heart?” I whisper, the words barely audible.
“Because you’ve been gone for a week. Enzo said was real pissed that we had to wait to execute the plan.”
A flicker of warmth sparks in my chest, and a smile teases the corners of my lips.
“Where are we going?”
“A new safehouse.”
“How will we stop it from being found out again? What if there’s another traitor?”
Nico’s eyes twinkle. “Because it’s just me and you.”
Oh. Fuck.