Chapter 40 #2
A gasp stays lodged in my throat. My spine stiffens. The blood in my veins turns to ice as dread sits heavy at the pit of my stomach.
Eyes as black as night stare into mine. The sinister pools seize the air from my lungs. He flashes his pearly white canines in a cruel smile. Ink covers his thick neck and travels down his black button down shirt. He stands proudly and at ease.
But it’s his hand, or rather what’s on his hand that strikes me with fear.
An eight point star tattoo. A ring so heavy it would make a poor man’s finger tremble.
This isn’t just any Russian.
No.
This is the man who craves bloodshed. Menacing. Terrorizing. A psychopath.
Kirill Vasiliev. The tyrannical ruler of the Bratva.
Rico pushes me further behind him to shield me from his view. Without his eyes on me I can breathe again. “Don’t look at her. If you do, you'll never see again.”
I can hear the smile in his voice. “Captured quite the beauty haven’t you, Rico?”
Rico’s fingers bury themselves in my hip. I can already feel the bruising begin but it’s a pain I pay no attention to. In fact, it’s one I’m grateful for. Because as long as I feel his relentless grip it means we’re both alive.
I peer over his shoulder once more. Kirill notices but doesn’t look at me.
“I’ll make another suggestion,” he says coolly. “Don’t comment on her appearance either. I can always cut your tongue off.”
“I am rather skillful with my tongue.” He runs his tongue along the front of his teeth. “Afraid she’ll prefer mine better?” I recoil from the crude implication. Bile tickles the back of my throat.
Rico takes a step forward but Kirill tsks at him while waving his gun. “Take another step Mr. Possessive and your wife goes night night.”
It’s then I feel the butt of a gun at the back of my head.
Any ounce of hope I have of us getting out of this alive snuffs out like a candle.
Rico’s head whips fast as he sees the dangerous predicament I’m in.
And I see it in his eyes. The fear. Fury. Unbridled rage. For only a moment so enemies don’t see he bares it all to me.
“You will remove your gun from my wife’s head or—”
“Or what?” Kirill asks on a snort. He then pulls out his gun and points it right at his head.
While my heart lurches to my throat Rico doesn’t cower. He shows no sign of fear to Kirill. No, he stares him down coldly. Intensely. “You think I can’t disarm you?” Rico’s question is more of a threat.
“Oh, I know you can. But as soon as you do she’s dead.”
But I can. If Rico keeps Kirill distracted enough I can disarm my assailant.
When Rico looks back at me I implore with my eyes for him to keep talking. Anything for the focus to be on him and not me. Miraculously he picks up on my social cue.
“You take orders from the Irish now?”
Kirill puffs haughtily. “I take orders from no man.”
“Then why are you here?”
Kirill shrugs nonchalantly. “A man has to explain himself to kill someone?”
“You’re certifiably insane,” Rico says matter-of-fact.
He chuckles darkly and winks at him. “Quit flirting with me.”
I slowly raise my arms so that I am in a quicker position to retrieve the gun. With the gun to the back of the head it’s the worst possible position to out maneuver. One wrong move and I’m done.
“You do realize once the Irish gain what they want they will have no need for you.”
“You’re acting as if this arrangement isn’t mutually beneficial. The Irish want their throne. I could give a fuck less about your throne.” His voice hardens. With a malicious smile he says, “But having a hand in killing you. Now that makes me a happy man.”
No better time than now I twist my body and have my arm outstretched to force the man holding the gun to move his arm in the opposite and downward direction.
The element of surprise is in my favor because it works.
Swiftly I strike my heel down on his foot and he howls with pain.
I then take my hand and force the gun against himself. I pull the trigger.
As he crumples to the floor with a gut wound he won’t survive from I finagle the gun from his hands and point it at Kirill.
He watches with rapt fascination. His eyes even glitter with awe. “No one told me you were capable,” he says, impressed.
“Men underestimate women. Always have. Always will.” I stand beside my husband and say darkly, “Now, remove your gun from my husband or I won’t hesitate.”
“Kill me if you must but the job will still be done.”
“What job?” I question harshly.
Raising his hand open palmed he then forms it into a fist and makes a knocking motion.
Over a dozen of soldiers, Irish and Russian, move in on us. We are surrounded.
My chest tightens but I breathe through it. Rico grasps my hand in a bone crunching grip.
“So, you see. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. I prefer hard. More fun.”
“Rico,” I say his name in a whisper filled with uncertainty.
“We’ll be okay, la mia gazzella,” he promises me under his breath but for once I can’t believe him.
The unknown lies on the horizon. And I fear what will become of us when we reach the destination.
“On your knees. The both of you.” With guns pointed at us from all angles we both come to our knees. “The gun,” he says to me. With a sneer on my lips I drop the gun. He kicks it to the side and one of his men collects it. Tipping his head he orders another, “Search them.”
Large roughened hands come down on my body and I grit my teeth. Rico starts to come after the man but two soldiers hold him back. He grinds down on his molars as the man swipes his hands down my curves and moves between my thighs. I clamp them shut.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” I snarl, baring my teeth.
Rico fights against the men holding him but they kick him down and press their feet against his back.
Kirill waves his hand. “Stand down.” The soldier removes his hands from my thighs. I almost spit at him.
They search Rico next. They remove his gun and knife along with his phone and earpiece. We’re stripped of anything that can aid us in escaping.
“I would trust you would bring no more complications but I cannot take the risk.” He shakes his head like a pa would do to their naughty little one. “Proceed,” he says ominously.
I feel it first. The prickle of the needle before it sinks deeper in my skin. My body immediately becomes lax. My eyelids become extremely heavy. And as I try to fight the current I only become weaker faster.
The last thing I see before the dark abyss is Rico’s strong deep blue eyes on mine. And they promise death to all who touched me.