26. Nadia
26
NADIA
T hey left without offering me any food or water.
The tall guy, who kept glancing over at me like he wanted to have me for dessert, was such an asshole to emphasize that it was all gone. The sandwiches and fries they’d brought in. Every morsel was consumed. Erik and the shorter man left together, but after the taller one lingered and bundled all the wrappers into a pile, he tipped his water up until the very last drop plopped into his open mouth.
He grinned at me, then smacked his lips. “That sure hit the spot.”
I narrowed my eyes from my slouched position on the floor. I hate you.
“You want some?” he asked.
I already knew nothing edible remained on the table. All the bottles were empty as well. So his question had to mean only one thing.
“You want some?” he repeated as he stalked over, unzipping his pants.
Some . As in some of him.
I scooted back, bringing up my knees to stand. I wasn’t going to take this sitting down. Terror sliced through my heart. In my veins, anger and desperation charged through me and pushed me to get up.
He was on me before I could rise to my feet. My thigh hurt too badly after the crappy posture on the floor, and I was dizzy with the need for water and food.
As he tackled me to the ground, fumbling to get his dick out of his pants and to yank my panties down from beneath my dirty, ripped dress, I fought and resisted with all my might.
He would not do this.
He would not get away with this.
I wasn’t going to be raped. Or violated. Or?—
He grunted, slamming me onto my back harder. With my hands tied behind me, I was stuck in an awkward pull of no mobility. Not being able to move my arms filled me with intense fury, but his forceful push down seemed to do the trick.
The ties snapped. One of them gave free with his rough shove onto the floor. All this time I’d tried to wiggle and wrestle out of the binding, I just couldn’t. Only now, when he slammed me down so he could straddle me easier, did something give.
A sharp point pressed on my skin hard enough to pierce it, and I faintly registered that something of a blade or spike served as a cutting edge. I couldn’t focus on it, not when this Avilov soldier tried to stop me from kicking or kneeing him.
And it wasn’t enough. My hands weren’t free, not all the way. But they could be. If I found that sharp bit again, I could use it to sever the rest of the zip ties. Maybe it was an old staple from a lousy sanding and polishing job on the floor. Whatever it was, I’d use it.
“Stay still, little bitch,” he growled. “You let that Valkov fuck you, huh? Then I want a turn too.”
Maxim and this man would never be in the same category. Past the rage and desperation, I knew this. Deep down, I would cling to that fact. Maxim cared about me. He made love with me, and I was convinced that he had to be out there, frantic to find me so we could start the rest of our lives together.
But I wasn’t so na?ve not to realize that things weren’t looking good. I couldn’t throw this man off me. His dick, already hard and dripping precum on my legs, was too damn close.
My panties were down on one ankle. He strapped his thigh over mine, worsening the ache from that kick.
Yet, I resisted. Heaving for air, screaming behind my gag, I struggled to stop him from touching me there.
And somehow, I was saved.
The door swung open, and Erik scowled at his friend on top of me. He strode in, not hesitating to backhand the man and send him crawling back.
I breathed hard, seeing black dots in my peripheral vision. I feared I’d pass out from the lack of oxygen, but I couldn’t calm down. I couldn’t slow my racing heart. Volleying my stare between the man who’d tried to rape me and the man who’d sent him back up, I didn’t know whom to fear more.
Was Erik here to get first dibs? Or was he pissed that his man was acting out of line?
If he intended to kill me, I doubted he would be concerned about what happened to me in the interim.
“Freddy ran his fucking mouth,” Erik said. He scowled at the other man as he tucked himself back into his pants and stood, shooting me a nasty glare.
“What?”
“Freddy.” Erik shook his head.
“What about him? We just ate in here with him.”
“He was talking about what you and I discussed with him. How we’d kill him and the bitch and take over. How we’d let Kastava do whatever the fuck he wanted with Dmitri Valkov.”
“Shit.” The tall man dragged his hair back. “Who heard him talking?”
Erik narrowed his eyes. “Thomas, who happened to be on the phone with my fucking uncle at the time.”
The tall man swore, pacing away from me. “What does this mean now?”
“It means I just took care of Freddy,” Erik retorted. “And now we need to be more careful. I just got off the phone with my uncle. Again.”
“Did you convince him Freddy was making that shit up or something?”
Erik nodded. “But he’s cautious now. He wants this bitch brought to him. Now.” His finger lowered and aimed at me.
“He kept going on and on about how pissed he is that Maxim’s been with her for days. He’s hellbent on breeding her, and he needs to ‘purge’ her of another’s cum.”
I blinked, trying to understand. I didn’t even want to know how some old, twisted man would try to purge me. And I wanted to puke at the concept of being a breeding vessel for him. For anyone. If I ever got pregnant, I wanted it to be my choice.
The tall man turned to grin at me. He laughed, enjoying my expression of distress. “You’re in for a world of pain, little whore.” He chuckled louder. “He’s going to punish you for running and?—”
Erik slapped his hand at his arm. “Which means no fucking her yourself, moron.”
“I just thought…” He shrugged. “I just thought, why not? You know?”
“No. I don’t fucking know. You can find easy pussy anywhere. My uncle’s been obsessed about breeding this bitch forever, and it’s suicide to get involved.”
Now he glanced at me and smirked, like he was amused. “Just like your new little lover should’ve realized, bitch.”
I slumped to the side in trying to kick out at him. He laughed harder when I missed, and his friend cracked up.
I wanted to kill them both. I wanted to end their lives for keeping me captive and suggesting I was in the wrong for any of this.
“And just like you should’ve realized you can’t run from the Avilov outfit.” Erik stalked closer, holding out his phone. On the screen, a video played of my dad sitting in a chair. It was taken in the small, shitty office at his convenience mart. Whoever recorded him sitting there wasn’t shown in the screen. Beaten and slumped over like he struggled to stay upright, my dad tilted in the chair.
Then a hand raised, and a hole appeared between his eyes. He slumped further, dead and lost to the pull of gravity.
I resisted a gasp. I couldn’t inhale sharply with this gag shoved in my mouth like this.
Tears stung at the corners of my eyes, and the impulse to cry hit me. I sniffled and struggled to breathe through the gag.
Oh, my God.
I never truly loved my father, and I doubted he ever cared about me. He’d only ever seen me as a means to pay back Mr. Avilov for taking his first arranged wife.
But witnessing the death of someone I knew, of someone related to me, and of someone I should have grieved… That hit hard.
He was dead. Dropped to the floor like he didn’t matter at all.
Whereas I mattered too much. I was coveted by a sick man who’d abuse me.
“I got sick of hearing his excuses,” Erik said. “That was a few days ago, by the way.” He smiled as he watched a replay of the kill. “I tired of beating the shit out of those hostages. The Kastava men just aren’t good at that hard shit. So, I figured I’d silence your father once and for all.”
I blinked back the tears, staring at this cruel man.
“You’ve got no one, bitch.” He shoved his phone back into his pocket. “And you never will.” Tipping his chin at his friend, he said, “Let’s go. The quicker we unload her with my uncle, we’re one more step closer to taking over.”
“Finally,” the tall man said.
I sobered up fast from the panic of thinking I’d be raped. Seeing that video forced me to realize how dire my circumstances were. Things weren’t good. I already knew that. Bound, gagged, and taken from the man who’d keep me safe, I was stuck.
But now I had the clearest picture of all that was at stake. This was no longer a matter of maintaining or trying to have independence. This wasn’t about doing what I wanted with my life. It had become a matter of life or death.
Erik already made it clear that he intended to take over by killing his uncle. And now, he’d explained that he’ll treat me the same as he had done to my dad.
“He wants her up on the boat,” Erik told his partner in crime.
The man groaned. “Out on the lake?” He huffed, then shook his head. “Fucking cold out there, man.”
Lake Michigan? I tried to do a quick geography bit on the location of Chicago and the lakes around it.
Erik shrugged. “You know how he is about the water. Prefers it over land. Who gives a shit, anyway? It’s near where the Kastavas moved the Valkov and other hostages, so he’ll feel like he’s close to the ‘action’.”
“Yeah, but now it seems like it’d be in our best interests to stay away from there if we’re startin’ over with the Avilov organization how we see fit.”
“You mean how I see fit,” Erik growled. He narrowed his eyes and emphasized his words.
“Yeah, yeah. Of course, man. I get it.”
Erik stood straight, cracking out the kinks in his neck. “And we won’t. I say we give my uncle the bitch. Let him be distracted with having her on the boat. He’ll have too many fucking guards to get away with shooting him there. Then we can wait at the Kastavas’ place until he comes and kill him there.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
That was their strategy, but I reformed mine .
I’d managed to avoid Mr. Avilov this long, and I would again. I had to remain positive. It wasn’t just my life on the line now, but Dmitri’s too. And, I dared to think, Maxim’s.
If Erik was due to be the next leader of the Avilov Family, I doubted he would soon forget how Maxim nearly killed him in the alley in London. It seemed to me that he didn’t want to bother with killing Dmitri now because he wanted to focus on taking over. But once he was confident in his new position, he would have too many reasons to go after Maxim.
This war, this violence, had to stop now. Maxim and I couldn’t be over this soon.
All this fighting had to end before both of us ended up dead as collateral in this layered web of Mafia politics.