Chapter 42
Chapter Forty-Two
Rodion
Zsighs again. Having had enough, I throw my chair back and march to his desk, grabbing his shirt and dragging him to his feet.
“What the hell?” he protests when I rip open his shirt.
“You’re driving me insane. Fucking or fighting? You chose which, but we’re working this energy out of you some way.”
Kicking off his shoes, he pouts, unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt. “I just think we should have gone with her. Did you see that dress?”
“It was hideous,” I retort, slipping off my own shirt.
“And skimpy,” he complains. “I don’t know. Something just feels off today.”
“Well, let me turn you on then,” I tease but it doesn’t hit.
“Your phone is lighting up.” He juts his chin to my desk.
“So?” I stroke down my hard cock and his eyes darken.
“It might be Alyona.”
“Get naked,” I bark as I stride to my desk and swipe up my phone. When I see Viktor’s number, I say, “Better be good.”
“I’m putting on my location, find me,” Viktor bites out, none of his usual playfulness on display. “It’s Alyona.”
Static fills my ears and every muscle in my body throbs.
“What is it?” Z asks, his sixth sense on overdrive.
I turn to him, swallowing past the fear coiling in my gut.
“It’s Alyona isn’t it?” he demands.
“We need to go.”
We enter the estate from the back, crossing the tree line on foot and racing to the beeping arrow on the screen. A white wooden cabin is tucked away between tall trees about half a mile from the main property. Z’s feet falter, and he bends at the waist, placing his hands on his knees and retches.
“Z?”
“I can't,” he pants, shaking his head. “It’s my curse.”
Sweat beads across his forehead and his chest heaves rapidly with my own manic pulse. “Z, come on, she needs us,” I urge, walking backwards.
“What if she’s dead?” He retches again, throwing up the contents of his stomach over the grass.
I refuse to accept that.
“She’s not. We’d feel it.” I will not entertain that as a possibility. Roza needs her. We fucking need her.
Bright blue orbs pierce through me when he looks at me with such fucking hope it fractures my soul.
“We’d feel it,” he agrees and then he takes off running to the cabin.
The door is open, and we rush inside, finding a small living area and Adam slumped over on the floor. His neck is twisted at an odd angle and his pants around his ankles.
No. No. No.
My blood rushes to my head, filling my ears. Viktor stands up from beside a couch, and I sway on my feet. Alyona is lying on the cushions, a small brown blanket thrown over her torso.
My feet carry me to her, and I drop to my knees beside her. “What happened?” I choke, wanting to touch her, but afraid it will cause her pain.
She sniffles, a tear creeping down her cheek. “He knocked me out and then drugged me.” She looks down to her toes and strains. “I can move a toe now.”
Z is heaving like a supernatural being, his eyes focused on Adam’s body.
“He didn’t get to rape me. Vika stopped him before he could.” She stumbles over her words, and more tears leak free. “The bastard.”
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” I assure her, even though nothing is fucking okay about this.
Blood vessels have popped in her eyes, and there are purple bruises around her throat. A boot print bruise is forming on her thigh, and red welts are all over her skin. Bastard doesn’t scratch the surface of what he is, was.
“He didn’t care if he died,” she says with a sob, closing her eyes. “I felt so fucking helpless. He had to drug me.” Her anger crackles the air.
“You’re safe,” I assure her once more.
We should have killed him before this ever could have happened.
“Z?” she says desperately. “Please look at me.”
The pain in her voice shatters whatever hold the darkness has on him and he collapses over her, dragging her body into his arms. “No one will ever fucking touch you again. I swear it,” he promises. “Look at what he did to you.”
“It will heal.” She sighs. “He's dead and I’ll heal.”
“I’ve called the doctor and given her your address,” Viktor says, kicking Adam’s corpse.
“We need to clean up here.”
I have a plan for that.