Chapter 39 - Tatiana
I stared at the chipped paint on the door, the hard floor, and my crumpled position, making my legs slowly go numb.
This had to be a bad dream, the worst nightmare of my entire life.
There was no way I was stuck in the empty room, a prisoner of not only my father’s enemy but the man who wanted to kill Kon for months.
Kon. Did he know I was gone yet? Imagining his anger made me pull my legs close to my chest and wrap my arms around my knees, resting my head on them.
Everything that ever enraged me about him, starting with the fact that he was trying his best to keep me out of this very situation, came rushing back into my mind.
It was almost a relief from the fear that had me in its clutches, but I couldn’t muster any of that old anger at Kon. The opposite. As soon as I ran out of memories of arguments and disagreements, of him being imperious or refusing to listen, all the good ones crashed in.
The very first time he kissed me, when I thought he was close to death after being shot. Not even close. He was too stubborn to let one little bullet take him out. Something kept me from leaving him alone, made me keep my eyes trained on him while he slept.
And then that kiss. Hot and wild, driving me to forget everything but him. And all the ones after that, because I could never get enough, no matter how angry he made me.
I was thinking about that perfect day, stuck inside the apartment. He brought the world to me, showed me I wasn’t a prisoner, tried to make me see I could trust him.
If only he could have trusted me.
Tears rolled down my cheeks. Everything was all mixed up. Did Kon refuse my requests to reach out to Riku because of distrust, or because he knew exactly what might happen if he gave in to my demands?
What the hell did I know about the Bratva and how master criminals operated? He tried to tell me, gripping my arms, staring hard into my eyes, begging me to let him keep me safe. And I threw it all away. Easily fooled, in danger myself, and worse, no closer to finding Papa.
Worse than that, I was going to be the one to bring him back to his captor. I was going to be the one to get Kon killed.
He’d been too wily for so long, and I burned it all down.
Was that why I felt so bad? Was it only guilt that had me crying into my knees, trying to muffle the sobs that echoed in the empty room?
Gusting out a huge breath, I wiped my face and stood up before I was a mess of cramps and completely unable to try to run the next time someone came into the room.
I wasn’t dead yet, and neither was Kon. I wasn’t going to let Riku use me that easily. Now it was my turn to protect Kon. Why? Not guilt, not to make amends for screwing up so badly.
Because I freaking loved the damn man. After all the sweet things he did for me, after all the lavish gifts, it took being turned into a real prisoner to realize it. I might die in this room, but I wouldn’t bring Kon along with me, and I’d leave the earth knowing real love.
“A lot of fucking good that does me,” I muttered, wiping more tears.
This was no time to get poetic; it was time to find a way to survive so I could actually tell Kon how I felt. And beg his forgiveness, and hope he felt the same, but right now—escape.
There was one window in the room, and when I carefully moved the dented metal blinds so they wouldn’t clatter, I was faced with plywood boards hammered across the dirty glass from the outside.
The window itself wouldn’t budge, no matter how hard I twisted the rusty lock at the top.
If I broke it, I risked alerting anyone in the house with the noise, and there was no telling how sturdy those boards were.
And then could I actually climb out with my hands still bound together in front of me?
Despair was grabbing onto me as I kept jiggling the lock, and my fingernails were ragged and bleeding by the time the sound of the doorknob turning had me flinging myself back onto the floor.
Riku rolled his eyes at the blinds as they slammed back into place, then grabbed my hands to look at the ragged fingertips.
“How far do you think you would have gotten?” he asked. Whether it was rhetorical or not, I stayed silent. He held out my phone and told me to call Kon.
“I don’t think so,” I said, despite longing to hear his voice.
“Come now, how can he rescue you if he doesn’t know you’re in peril?”
I crossed my arms and looked away. No way in hell would I give this asshole the only thing he wanted. Riku took a quick step forward, but I didn’t flinch.
“You won’t kill me until you can get Kon here,” I said, pleased my voice wasn’t wavering.
It was as strong as my resolve. No way Kon’s death was because of me. And he was tenacious. It might be to kill me himself after running away like I did, but he’d find me. I just had to hang on.
“Do you know how many people have begged me for death?” he asked, taking another step closer.
The upper hand I had for a fraction of a second was gone. Bile rose in my throat at the look of malice shining in his eyes, the excitement on his face that I had given him a reason to unleash his fury.
The first strike had me doubling over, the hard punch happening so fast I didn’t see his arm lash out. I only registered the true extent of the pain when I found myself on the floor, wheezing for breath. His booted foot hit me in the small of the back, sending me sprawling halfway across the room.
After a moment of respite, when I could roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling, still trying to breathe, he leaned over me, waving my phone in my face.
“How about now? One little video chat, one little call for help.”
I found the strength to shake my head, but not enough breath to spit out the words I was thinking. He must have read the curses in my eyes, and a second later, he raised his foot. I rolled to the side, curling into a ball as his boot slammed down on my side, and then again.
“I’d like to keep you pretty for the call you will eventually make,” he said, barely winded from the exertion of the beating he was doling out. “But I will start in on your face soon enough. There’s no plastic surgeon in the world who will be able to get you back to normal.”
I lashed out with my own foot, hitting him in the knee.
He thought he could scare me? I was well past being scared.
Something inside me woke up the last time he punched me in the ribs.
After a lifetime of being on the sidelines in the Bratva, I found a strength I never thought I had before.
I wasn’t that meek girl getting spit on by bullies for their amusement.
This was real danger, and it wasn’t for nothing. If I gave in and called Kon, the next step would be to lure Papa. Both the men I loved would be gone. I was done being the one who was protected.
“Fuck off,” I said, bracing myself for the next blow. Riku was ready, but so was I.
It was my turn to protect what was mine, the ones I cared about more than my own life. Even if it meant I lost it in the process. I just really hoped it didn’t come to that.