by Harley Wylde
I didn’t know where we were going, or why he’d taken me. If Ilya had known him, did he work for the Bratva like Viktor? His name sounded familiar, but I was too nervous and scared to figure out where I’d heard it. The rocking motion of the car was making my stomach flip and flop. Every sharp turn sent me hurtling into one of the sides. I’d slammed my head more than once, but I knew he didn’t care. The man who had taken me seemed to get off on pain. My pain.
When the car came to a stop and didn’t move again, my heart started beating harder. What would he do to me? Where had he taken me? I heard the pop of the trunk opening and smelled the outside air. Rough hands jerked me from inside the small space and I was dragged along. I tripped and fell, but Artur only gripped my hair and started pulling, not caring if I got to my feet or not. I could feel the concrete or sidewalk scrape against my skin, breaking it open. My hip slammed into some steps and I cried out as he hauled me up and through a door.
With a hard shove, he sent me sprawling across a wood floor.
“Who is that?” a woman asked.
“That is your betrothed’s wife,” Artur said.
There was a moment of silence. “Viktor is married?”
“Yes, but never fear, my pet. He’ll marry you, just like I promised. The daughter of Artur Orlov is a much better choice than this piece of gutter trash. Who knows where he found her? Fucking bitch is defective anyway. Can’t see.”
Wait. What? All this was because the man wanted Viktor to marry his daughter? We were already married! I didn’t see Viktor willingly signing divorce papers. Especially not if I could possibly be pregnant already. Oh, God! I wanted to press a hand to my belly, but the last thing I needed to do was alert them to a possible kink in their plan. I hoped that the beating I’d gotten today hadn’t hurt my baby, if there was one.
I remembered him speaking of a man who wanted Viktor to marry his daughter. I just hadn’t realized it was this man. Maybe fear had addled my brains a bit.
I curled in on myself, hoping to give them less of a target if either of them got violent. Artur seemed to enjoy inflicting pain. A hand gripped my hair and jerked my head back. I stifled a scream as my neck was wrenched. The cloying scent of perfume stung my nose.
“You took my Viktor from me? How? You’re nothing compared to me.”
I kept silent, but it might have been a mistake. She slammed her foot down on my hip, a sharp heel from a dress shoe stabbing into me hard enough I could feel the skin break. She jammed the heel into my calf next, then one of them kicked me in the face. Blow after blow left me dazed and hurting so much I didn’t even want to breathe. When they finished, I was lifted and carried back outside, then down the sidewalk. I must have blacked out because when I came to it was to the jolt of my body hitting the ground and slamming into something metal that smelled bad. A dumpster? Had they left me in an alley?
“Be a good girl and die,” Artur said. The man sounded like he was stark raving mad! How did he think he would get away with this? Did he honestly think Viktor would just let him kill me and there wouldn’t be repercussions? “You’re nothing. A plaything. Viktor won’t even miss you once my daughter is in his bed. She’s been well-versed in how to please a man.”
Bile rose in my throat as I wondered if he’d been the one to teach her. The tone of his voice when he spoke of her was… more that of a lover than a parent. The thought made my stomach turn. I heard his steps move away from me, and then I couldn’t hear them at all. I felt the ground around me, and hoped I wasn’t about to put my hand on a used needle. Depending on the part of town where he’d taken me, anything was possible. I slowly crawled in what I hoped was the direction of the street. I didn’t make it very far before the pain was too much and I collapsed onto my side.
I hurt everywhere. Even breathing was difficult. I didn’t hear a single sound, which frightened me even more. No cars. No people walking by. I struggled to crawl a little farther, hoping I’d find a street, or someone who might at least help me. My hands found the curb and I wanted to cry in both relief and frustration because I still didn’t hear a single car going by.
Trying to find a door and knocking on it could be dangerous depending on my location. Then again, so was lying by the street. I made it to my feet and nearly passed out from the pain. Hands outstretched, I walked forward and found the brick surface of a building. Banging my hand on the door, I waited but no one answered. I tried again. And again. Then I moved on. After four more doors and no one answering, I didn’t know if they were fearful of Artur, or if I’d been dropped in a deserted area. Certain areas I’d been told were boarded up and abandoned. Was that where I was?
How would Viktor ever find me here?
Then I heard it. Footsteps. I tensed, not knowing if it was Artur returning to finish the job of killing me, or if it was someone else who would hurt me. The heavy tread and confidence of the person’s walk made me think it was a man. I knew there was evil in the world, and it would be foolish to think a stranger wouldn’t be dangerous.
I pressed my back to the brick and hoped that something worse wasn’t about to happen to me. The footsteps halted directly in front of me, and I smelled cigarette smoke. He must have blown it directly into my face because I coughed and my sightless eyes burned. Or he was just smoking something strong.
“You look lost, love,” he said with what I thought was an Irish accent.
“Help. Please.”
I reached out, my hand patting at his chest before curling into the material of his shirt.
“Your husband do that?”
I shook my head, then wished I hadn’t. I nearly collapsed, only the building holding me up.
“I was taken from our home. The man who took me did this.”
My sightless gaze scanned the area, as I listened for any other sounds of life. I heard him put the cigarette out with his foot, then a hand gently took my arm. I went with him, hoping it wasn’t a mistake.
“Come on, love. Let’s get you cleaned up and I’ll get a look at the damage that fucker did. Then you can decide if you want me to call your man.”
Did he not believe me when I said that Viktor hadn’t done this?
“What’s your name? I’m Mac,” he said. “Well, it’s technically Ian MacKenzie.”
So not Irish, then. Likely Scottish. I’d never really spoken to anyone from either place before, but I enjoyed the sound of his voice. It set me at ease, and I hoped it wasn’t a mistake to let down my guard.
“Cerys,” I said. “Cerys Petrov.”
His steps faltered, then he grunted and kept moving, gently tugging me along with him. I wondered if he recognized my last name and might know Viktor? If I was anywhere near my old neighborhood it was possible. The Bratva had a heavy influence there. When I stumbled a few times, Mac stopped and gently lifted me into his arms.
“Easy, love. Just going to carry you the rest of the way.”
I lost all sense of time, but eventually Mac stopped and I heard a door open. He carried me inside and down what seemed to be a hall or vast empty room, judging the echo of his steps. When he set me down on a cool, padded table, I was confused.
“Where am I?” I asked.
“At the Southside Clinic,” he said.
I’d heard of it, and knew it wasn’t far from my old home. Less than a mile in fact. I just didn’t know why we were here. Yes, I was in rough shape, but I just wanted Viktor. I had no doubt he’d see that I was taken care of once I was back at his side. While he might not love me, I knew that he did want me, enough so that he’d married me to ensure no one would take me from him.
That hadn’t worked out the way he’d planned. Artur hadn’t cared about our marriage. Instead of just trying to make me disappear or pay me to leave, he’d wanted me dead. I didn’t think Viktor had considered that when he’d married me, or he’d thought he could protect me better. If he’d known Artur would come for me, I was certain he’d have asked more men to stay with me. Ilya had called to me through the door to
let me know he was standing watch, but I knew Viktor had others who could have helped.
“Love, I need to see what I’m working with. Going to clean off the blood on your face and we’ll go from there. All right?”
I nodded, then regretted the action. I swayed and nearly threw up. Whatever he used to wash away the blood was slightly rough, but the water was warm. I thought he might be using some sort of soap. It had an antiseptic smell to it and burned. It wouldn’t surprise me if I were bleeding in several places, possibly more than that. Artur hadn’t held back in his attack. He’d wanted me to hurt, to stop breathing.
My heart ached. Why was there such evil in the world? What purpose did men like Artur serve?
“I don’t think any of the lacerations on your face need sutures. I’m going to glue two of them shut. The rest will heal with time,” Mac said.
I didn’t know how much time passed before he’d finished with my face. I could feel the tension as everything went quiet. My body was screaming in pain, and it would make sense that he would need to see the rest. For whatever reason, he wasn’t asking, or demanding that I remove any clothing.
“Mac? Are you still here?”
“So, I was right. You’re blind.”
“Yes,” I said softly. Should I not have let him know that? I knew it made me even more vulnerable. In my current state I was at a disadvantage anyway.
“Christ,” Mac muttered. “I need to call your husband, love. Swear to me he didn’t do this?”
“Viktor would never hurt me like this,” I said. “It was Artur. I think he said his last name was Orlov, or something like that.”
Maybe. I’d had so many names thrown at me since the day the Bratva burst into our home. I couldn’t have picked any of them out by their voice, except for Viktor. It was almost too much for me to handle. I could feel my body starting to shake, and I worried I’d finally met the breaking point. I’d handled everything my father dished out over the years, but now someone wanted me dead.
“Definitely calling Mr. Petrov,” Mac muttered. “Wait here, love. I’m going down the hall to my office. No one’s here but us. You’re safe.”
“Office?”
“It’s technically Dr. Ian MacKenzie,” he said. “But just call me Mac.”
My lips parted and I blinked a few times. Doctor? At least I now understood why we were at the clinic, and why he seemed to know how to patch me up. For a moment, I’d worried he might have broken in.
“I mean it, Cerys. Don’t move from that spot.”
I nodded and placed my hands in my lap, trying not to wince as the motion made pain shoot through me. I could hear his steps, then a door opening and shutting. Minutes passed, and still Mac didn’t return. Listening intently, I tried to pick up any sounds at all. Voices. Footsteps. I didn’t hear a single sound in the entire building. Unease pricked at me. What was taking Mac so long? Why hadn’t he returned?
He’d said to stay put. Not knowing the layout of the room much less the building, that seemed like good advice. Unless something had happened to Mac and Artur was after me again. What if he’d been watching and waiting? What if someone knew I was here and had told Artur? I didn’t want Mac to get hurt because he’d tried to help me. I didn’t think a doctor would have the skills to deal with someone like the Russian. Mac saved lives, but Artur took them.
Click. My body went tight. What was that?
Something cold and hard was pressed to my temple.
“Couldn’t die, could you?” Artur asked. “Stupid bitch. All you had to do was lie in that alley until you breathed your last, or someone came along to finish what I started.”
“Why?” I asked. “What do you get from this? Where’s Mac? What did you do to him?”
He gave a humorless laugh. “That poor excuse for a doctor is taking a nap thanks to some drugs, and a few kicks to some important places once he was down. As for what I get? Everything. Viktor is younger than me. Weaker. With my daughter by his side, I’ll hold sway over him. She’ll do whatever I tell her, and get Viktor to fall in line.”
Power? This was all about power? I’d known that most people cared about things like that, or money, but neither really mattered to me. All I’d ever wanted was to be loved and happy. With Viktor, I doubted I’d ever have love, but he’d made me feel safe.
“He’ll never listen to her,” I said.
“Of course he will. My daughter knows how to work that pussy of hers. Taught her everything she knows. She’ll have him eating out of her hand in no time. And once he’s under her spell, then I’ll pull the strings.”
Bile rose in my throat. That was the second time he’d inferred he knew personally about his daughter’s sexual expertise. It nauseated me, and I felt sorry for her. To have suffered at this man’s hands. Yes, she’d attacked me, but having Artur for a father had likely warped her. Granted, living with my dad hadn’t turned me into a monster, but then he hadn’t tried to touch me sexually.
“You disgust me,” I said. “I feel sorry for your daughter.”
Probably not the best thing to say. The gun was removed from my head, only for his fist to slam into my cheek. I felt one of my cuts break open, and I wanted to cry from the pain that exploded across my face.
“It’s just you and me,” Artur said. “Took care of that doctor. He should have never stopped to help you.”
The cold barrel of his gun pressed under my chin, then he slid it down my throat and farther still. He brushed it down between my breasts and kept going. I whimpered and tried to move away from him, but he quickly grabbed my arm, holding me still.
“This time, I’m going to finish the job. But first, maybe I should see why Viktor thought you were good enough to marry.”
He released me, only to rip my shirt in half. The cool air of the room ghosted over my skin and I screamed as I tried to fight him off. As I tipped over the back of the padded table and landed on the hard floor, the breath was knocked from my lungs and I lay stunned. I heard something slam hard -- maybe the door into the wall? -- then a roar of rage.
“Maybe the good doc isn’t as weak as I’d thought,” Artur said. “Can’t stop a bullet, though, can you, doctor?”
A sinister laugh filled the air before the gun went off. Not once, but twice. I heard a scream and only realized as my throat grew sore that it was me. I’d gotten that man killed! If I’d stayed in that alley, then Mac would have never found me. I sobbed and curled into a ball on the floor. With every tear that fell, I lost a little more hope. Viktor wasn’t coming, and now Mac was most likely dead.
I just wanted it all to be over. I needed it to end before someone else got hurt.
Chapter Seven
Viktor
Vadim had called on every contact he had in the area, even those outside the Bratva. Everyone available was searching for Cerys, but I worried it would be too late when we found her. If Artur had harmed her in any way, he’d pay the ultimate price. Nothing would stop me from exacting vengeance, and I knew that Vadim would let me have it. Artur needed to be stopped. I’d known he was power hungry. It was the only reason he’d want his daughter matched with me. I’d been less than friendly with him over the years, and couldn’t remember a time I’d said more than two words to his daughter.
A clean-up crew had been brought in to handle the dead bodies, and Ilya had been taken away for medical attention. I was thankful someone else had handled because all I could think about was Cerys.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and frowned at the number on the display. It was local but not one I recognized.
I answered the call and put the phone on speaker, in case it was Artur. If the man was going to confess to his crime, then I wanted Vadim to hear it firsthand.
“Who is this?” I asked.
“Ian MacKenzie from the Southside Clinic.”
My gaze locked with Vadim’s. I couldn’t think of a reason for the man to be calling unless he knew something about Cerys. Our connection was too new for anyone to
know she was my wife, unless she’d told them. Did the doctor have my wife at his clinic? And if so, how bad off was she?
“What do you want?” I asked.
“Your wife needs you. Get here. Fast.”
The call ended and I stared at Vadim. He gave a slight nod of his head and I was moving, through the door, bypassing the slow-as-fuck elevator, and practically running down the stairs. I rushed to my car and barely paused long enough for Vadim to slide into the seat next to me.
“I’m getting older, but I’m not dead,” Vadim said. “But next time, take the elevator.”
I snorted and put the car in gear, taking off so fast my tires squealed on the pavement and I left smoke in my wake. I took the corners too fast, nearly losing control, but I didn’t let up. Pushing the pedal harder, the car shot forward again. Blowing through stop signs, lights, and nearly taking out a few pedestrians, I reached the Southside Clinic in fifteen minutes. I slammed on the brakes outside the front of the building, threw the car into park, and ran inside, not even stopping to shut off the car. No one in this area was dumb enough to steal my ride.
The sound of gunshots made my body go cold. I pulled my gun and noticed that Vadim was again beside me, his gun already at the ready. We moved farther into the clinic, peering around an open doorway. I didn’t see Cerys, but the doctor lay on the floor with a spreading pool of blood under him. His back rose and fell, even though it was slight. He was alive for the moment.
Artur hadn’t noticed my presence and stalked around the table in the center of the room. As he pointed his gun at the floor, I knew in that moment my wife was there, and this fucker was about to kill her.
“Artur!” I yelled out.
He swung his gun my way and I shot him through the shoulder. It was enough to make him drop the weapon. I advanced on him, not daring to look at where I suspected Cerys lay. If I saw her, saw what he’d done to her, I’d stop focusing on Artur and we could all die. It would only take a moment of distraction for him to get the upper hand. I slammed my fist into his temple, pulled back and hit him again across the jaw. I didn’t stop, landing blow after blow. I made him bleed, made him beg, and still I went after him. His face was an unrecognizable mess, his bones broken, skin swollen and covered in blood. But it wasn’t enough. He’d touched what was mine! Taken my wife!