Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
Annika
“God, you’re hot.”
I hear my sister’s voice in the hall, and my heartbeat spikes, and I know it’s time. A low chuckle answers my sister’s words.
“You don’t know I’m hot,” I faintly hear the man reply. “I’m wearing a mask.”
“That’s what makes you so hot, babe. The mask,” I hear Valya reply.
I slowly creep out of my bed and move toward the door. I hear a small thump just as I crack my door open. Valya’s making eyes at the guard that’s now leaning against the hallway wall. Her hands are running over his arms and chest, and he’s completely distracted by it.
“You shouldn’t be flirting with me,” he murmurs. “The boss is going to be here soon. He catches you, he’ll kill you.”
“Mmm,” Valya moans, pressing her breasts to his chest as she bites her lower lip. “Why does that make me even hotter?”
I watch as she slides one of her hands down his chest and to his crotch, and the man lets out a growl as she flexes her fingers around him.
“Fuck, you’re bad,” he groans.
“Yeah,” Valya pants, her eyes darting quickly to me. “Show me how bad I am. Teach me a lesson.”
The masked man moves with a quickness, turning his back to my door as he goes in to kiss Valya, and that’s when I make my move.
I burst through the door, using my pajama bottoms like a rope to wrap tight around his neck.
His hands fly up to try to stop me, but Valya squeezes his crotch tight, making him go to his knees.
Once he’s down, Valya knees him in the face, and he drops.
The moment he’s face down on the ground I push my foot into his back, yanking tight on the pajama bottoms until his gasping and writhing stops.
“We’ve got to move,” Valya whispers, helping me up and pulling me into a tight hug. “He’s on his way, that means he’s not in front of the camera monitor. Kirill’s downstairs. We need to get you all out of here.”
I abandon my pajama pants and run with Valya toward the back steps.
“Who is he, Valya?” I ask as we start to race down the steps.
“Pyotr,” Valya answers, and for a moment I freeze.
Pyotr? Kirill’s own brother?
A sound from downstairs has me moving again, and Valya and I make it to the kitchen. The moment I see Kirill I almost weep with relief- but then I see my father. My father, looking worse than ever, and at the barrel end of Kirill’s gun.
“No!” I scream, and both men look at me.
“Don’t hurt him!” Valya yells, going around me to stand in front of our father. “He’s innocent! He made us do this!”
“Devochka,” Kirill whispers, his blue eyes softening.
I put my hands up, taking slow steps toward my husband.
“I’m okay,” I promise, shaking my head. “But don’t shoot him. Kirill, please don’t shoot him.”
Kirill’s softened gaze hardens once more, and he grits his teeth as he turns his head back to my father and raises his gun.
“He put you in danger,” he grits out.
“I know,” I tell him, coming closer to him, “I know, baby. And I’m angry too. But please. He’s my father. He’s the only parent I have left. Don’t shoot him.”
I reach Kirill, and I slowly extend my hands to touch him. I run a hand down the chest of his shirt, and feel how hot and sweat-slicked he is from his rage. He’s even trembling with it.
Kirill lets out a strangled sound from his throat as he feels my touch, but he doesn’t lower his gun or look away from my father.
“Please, baby,” I whisper, wrapping my arms around his waist. I press my head against his chest, and hold him tight. “Please.”
I hear Kirill take a shuddering breath, and he finally lowers his gun. His arms come around me tight as I sag into him with relief, for a moment we just hold each other.
“Are you alright?” he rasps, stroking his hand over my hair.
I nod against his chest as tears fill my eyes.
“I’m okay, but Kirill, we have to go. There’s something I need to tell you.”
Even as I feel the urgency in my words, I can’t move away from Kirill’s embrace yet- and he can’t seem to let go of me either. Even when I hear a faint creak, a soft gasp from Valya and feel tremor of fear move up my spine, we still can’t let go of another.
It’s only when I feel the barrel of gun pressed against my head I realize this moment of happiness was a mistake.
“Awww,” Pyotr's voice comes from behind me. “So very sweet.”
Kirill’s eyes snap open the same time as mine, and I see them move above me as his nostrils flare and his entire body hardens.
“Pyotr,” Kirill warns through grit her teeth. “Put the gun down.”
I feel Pyotr’s hand wrap tight around my arm as he keeps the barrel flush against the back of my head and tries to pull me out of Kirill’s arms.
“No,” Pyotr sighs, “I don’t think I will.”
“Pyotr, please-” I sob, and my words halt in my throat, cut off by a cry as he pushes the barrel harder against the back of my skull.
“Let her go,” Pyotr demands, “Or the last image you’ll have of your wife is her blood rushing toward your face.”