by Nicole Snow
“Calm the fuck down, beautiful. I'm doing you a fucking favor by being upfront. Better to get this shit outta your system now.” He laughed. “Go ahead. Try to kick me in the nuts. Nothing like a real drag out fight to get to the truth.”
I thrashed in his arms several more times. Then I went limp again, realizing I was so thoroughly fucked my body didn't want to spend any more time fighting. I couldn't muster up the will to scream, to claw at him, least of all to cry.
“What is it, love?” He asked after a minute of calm. “You're taking this shit better than I thought. Is that all the hell you got in those pretty bones? Or could it be that maybe – just maybe – marrying my ass isn't a death sentence?”
Bastard! The overwhelming urge to spit and bite and stab was back, but I kept in check. Just barely.
“I'll never be your wife,” I said coldly. “Go ahead and pretend. Use me as a pawn in this sick fucking business I never asked to be a part of. I don't know what your problem is with my Dad, but it's not mine. If you're going to hurt me, rape me, keep me against my will then...that's all on you.”
I expected him to snarl, maybe slap me across the face. I didn't expect more of that vicious, dark, thick laughter thundering in my ears.
“Suit yourself, baby girl. You're my new wifey whether you've internalized that shit yet or not. I don't give a fuck if you want to fight and tell me what a bad boy I've been. I married you because I didn't want our kids coming up like bastards.”
I gasped for air. Kids? This lunatic was really talking about having a baby with me?
“Hope you get those fucking tears out of your system soon, pet. They're not gonna delay a damned thing.”
“What're you talking about? Delay what?” I snorted.
David jerked me against his chest, this time tighter. His hand rolled down my side, pressing my sweater snug. He didn't stop until his brute hand was clapped on my thigh, giving it a possessive squeeze.
Dangerous heat flooded me, rage and lust mingling in the dance I despised. It gave me my answer before he opened his mouth again.
No. Not there. Please!
“You're gonna do your fucking duties like a good wife, same as I'm gonna do mine like your lawfully wedded man. We've got certain traditions we respect around here, Anna. Shit means more to me than breathing. You'll figure that out fast.” He sighed, hissing hot, guttural desire onto my neck, stopping just short of stamping his lips to my skin. “Nothing's gonna stop me from fucking your brains out, love. Nothing. This little contract gives me all the rights and privileges a husband deserves, and I'm not taking that shit for granted. You can whine all you want, but sometime in the next twenty-four hours, I'll be balls deep inside your sweet little pussy. Then you'll understand. Once you have this dick in you, you'll never be able to imagine another, especially not one attached to some pissant who doesn't know shit about blood or sex or ink like I do.”
Shit! I stared deep into his eyes, searching, wondering if this entire thing was some sick bastard's joke.
There was amusement in his eyes, but it wasn't playful. The handsome psycho holding me was deadly serious.
I tried to keep breathing. It wasn't easy when the lust was overpowering my anger, one ruthless piece at a time with his hand so close to where I gushed and ached. I was coming unraveled right there, lusting after a man who filled my heart with total contempt.
He pulled himself away in one rough movement, sending me crumpling down again, clawing at the chair for support. I caught myself and stayed on my knees.
“I'll give you the day to get used to this house and screw your head on straight. Dry those bright eyes,” he said, stepping away and pointing his finger at me. “Tonight, babe, it's just you, me, and a bed. Welcome to your fucking honeymoon.”
I never knew how long I lingered there. The door slammed shut and I kept my head against the leather for a good long while. Stomach churning, head throbbing, heart ripping to shreds.
Jesus Christ, Dad. What have you done to me?
I was starting to hate my own father worse than David and his sick promises. Was the family enterprise really more important than his own daughter? He had to have some idea what he'd thrown me into.
Asshole. My brain wanted someone to pay, someone to take my hate and anger out on.
The brave front I clung to this morning was long gone. All of it.
What the hell was I fighting for when I was sent into this animal's clutches without even an explanation why? He signed the paperwork himself, went along with David's scheme to tell the state I was barely competent, forged my signature to give me up – my own fucking father!
My stomach lurched. I stood, forcing the world to settle. I promised myself that no matter what happened, I wouldn't throw up. I wasn't going to let all this sickness get to my head.
For the first time, I saw my surroundings the way I should've since I first got here: I looked for an escape.
I couldn't depend on family or blood or wealth anymore. I had to get away from him, and I had to do it all myself. I straightened my clothes and ignored the tension knotting my intestines.
Walking through the house, I avoided the servants as best I could. There were only a few cleaners stooped over the floors and counters in different rooms, diligently doing their duty. The ones who looked up muttered shyly in something that sounded like Russian, and ignored me as they went back to their duties.
No one cared that I was here. No one except my traitor father and the beast who prowled this estate. If I could avoid them both, then maybe I had a prayer.
I walked the full main floor, over ten thousand square feet, peeking through various rooms. The main doors to the beautiful looking garden were all sealed up, bolted and armed with a security system whose screen flashed warning when I grabbed the handle.
There's got to be another way...there always is.
It was waiting for me just outside the massive kitchen. There was a walk in pantry and deep freezer with a door leading out to a small loading dock outside. A skinny young man nodded to me. His features looked foreign, and I doubted he knew English.
I decided to test these peasants and see if they would stop me. He clearly watched me heading for the door. The man looked up once, sniffed, and returned to unloading the truck with another older man, who also didn't show much interest as I walked along their ramp, jumping down on the pavement at the lowest point.
I took it slow until the truck was behind me. Then I took off, bolting for the gardens, hurling myself through the vast trimmed hedges and over stony plots of flowers and moss.
It was dark, an early rainstorm above bringing the evening to a close faster than usual. I must've slept or passed out after his grotesque surprise. Just as well. If I could get through these gardens and the thick forest beyond, I'd be free by night, free before he came upstairs to wreck me with his mad desire and hard edges I couldn't resist.
Never! I promised myself. I'll never let that big, cruel, tattooed bastard twist his naked body around mine. I'll never give in, never lose my head again like last night...
Last. Fucking. Night.
The ruthless memory forced my knees to work faster. I hurtled through the gardens, onto the neat cobble path leading toward the forest. There was one more gate to unlatch, which I struggled with in record time, and then I was free.
Free.
I breathed in the late summer night, filling my lungs with comforting warmth. Just before I entered the thick brush where the path ended, I stopped. The woods were dense, far darker inside the thickets. The branches were snarled. This estate was part of the city – supposedly – but it must've been on the very edge, close to the preserves where urban glamor gave way to rolling suburbs and quiet country.
I hesitated. I wasn't cut out for tearing through miles of dense woods, especially at night. Apart from a few hikes in the rolling Appalachians during a rare vacation with my father, I'd never truly been in the wilderness. Neat, clean city conservatories and luxurious gardens were the closest I normally got
to nature.
It's okay. You have to do this. You'll find your way. People have pushed through the wild during desperate times for thousands of years. You can too.
I never got a second chance to reassure myself. The black figure who grabbed me and shoved me to the ground was so quick that at first I thought it was David, ready to hurl me into shit so deep I'd never get out.
The man covered my mouth, choking off my scream.
No, this man was in a mask, and he had a partner with him. They were dressed like SWAT commandos. Armor and black camo lined everything up to the little slits where their eyes peered out, holding all the trademarks except the huge rifles I'd seen in movies.
“Quiet, Miss Rossini,” the man whispered. “We're here to extract you at your father's orders.”
“Come with us,” the second man said, extending a hand. “All this will be over in no time.”
As he pulled me up, I looked at the darkening sky, then back at the sun setting over the huge estate.
Relief flooded my heart, mingling with a new unease.
Could it really be this easy? I didn't want to believe it.
The commandos led me deep into the forest. They were frustrated at how slow I was going, stopping to climb carefully over every gnarled branch and muddy stream. I wasn't dressed for this crap at all.
I could've sworn they were impatient, like they had a schedule to keep, but I kept thinking it had to do with wanting to get me out ASAP.
Later, they stopped in a small clearing so I could catch up. New moonlight beamed down between the trees, painting everything in an otherworldly chalk glow.
They were huddled together when I finally approached, just a few more feet to go.
“This is a good spot,” I heard the tall one say to his shorter partner. “GPS says we're in the densest part. No homes or streets for miles. Nobody around.”
“Hey, guys?” They looked up when I shouted. “I don't need a break. We can keep moving if you think that's wise. I'm slow, but I'm not tired.”
Whatever. They didn't need to know how exhausted I really was.
I just wanted to get the hell out of this place and forget all about the monster named David. It also amazed me that for the first time in my life, Dad had changed his mind. He hadn't thrown me to the big bad wolf for good.
I shouldn't have doubted him. Of course he'd come for me, and he had. The wolf had bitten me, yes, but he wouldn't let it swallow me up whole.
“You'll be home and free before you know it, Miss Rossini. Now, if you'll just step back for a moment...”
Behind the calm voiced commando, the squatter man was toying with something in his hands. I leaned forward and felt my blood chill when I saw it was a gun. He was screwing something onto the tip, a long black tube.
It must've been a silencer. Wasn't sure why I remembered that from the silly spy movies I reviewed for the High School paper. When I did, my heart stopped, and the world took on a surreal glow.
“What's going on, guys?” I whispered, folding my arms to protect against the sudden cold. “Are we in danger?”
Neither man answered me. Tall man narrowed his eyes until they were just tiny slits in his face mask. He stepped forward, took me by the shoulders, and began to drag me back through the dirt.
Shit! I couldn't have been more wrong. These men weren't sent to save me from the wolf – they were the beasts, the monsters, the things in the dark that wanted me dead.
I screamed and beat against his shoulders, hurting my fists on his hard armor.
“Get her against the tree!” Short man yelled. “This needs to look like an accident. Whole mission's fucked if Strelkov gets a whiff anybody else was out here...”
It wasn't the bone grinding pain flaring in my knuckles that caused me to stop punching him, or the totally hopeless chance at cracking through his armor like brittle shell. I stopped because I was whirling with confusion, sadness, betrayal.
This had to be a mistake. It had to be!
Why would my own father kill me?
“That's good,” Short man grunted. “Give me a clear shot on my mark. Don't want any do overs. You can let her go. Don't mind if she gets away and trips. Maybe that would be more natural.”
“Ah, fuck it,” Tall man said, holding me indifferently. “Let's just get this over with here. Can't stand this bitch's crying. You ready?”
“Yeah...” The other man cleared his throat. “Ready on three. One...two...”
“Three!” A third voice roared several feet away, and then everything was drowned out in explosive gunfire.
The short man barely got out a scream before he crumpled to the ground. Tall man spun, released me, drawing his side arm and staring into the blackness. Another shot nailed him between the eyes. I hit the ground, screamed, and shook, catching several misty red droplets on my hands as he slumped dead next to me.
Who else but David emerged from the brush a second later, the two men who'd taken me from the house the night before at his side.
“Great shot, D. Ochen korosho.” Boris fingered his pocket and pulled out a cigarette, flicking the lighter near his lips. He waited there with the other man, Nikolai.
Nothing slowed David down. He was still coming, all fury and footsteps, coming right at me. He stepped over the dead man's body, giving it a kick with his shoe.
“Sloppy fucking bastards. Old man Rossini shouldn't have skimped on helmets if he wanted the job done right...”
“Hey, boss. Check this out.” Nikolai plucked the short man's gun off the ground and held it up. “Haven't seen a bolt like this since Grozny. Lots of smoke and mirrors in that city, and lots of terrible accidents too.”
David's thug made a noise. I couldn't tell if it was a cough or a laugh. Maybe a little of both.
My captor reached over and swept the gun out of Nikolai's hand. He held it up, twisting it for study underneath the moonlight.
“Somebody up there likes you a lot, Anna. Down here too. If I'd been a few seconds later...” He looked up, meeting my eyes, and then he threw the gun on the ground. “It's not made for a clean shot. Fucking thing would've fired a heavy bolt to crack your pretty skull, like an animal for slaughter.”
“They mentioned something about it looking like an accident.” My voice was strangely calm for surviving a near death.
I should've been revolted having him next to me so soon, but I guess I my intestines were too busy twisting, stinging with my father's betrayal. Had I been wrong about the real monster all along?
“Yeah. Whether it killed you on impact or just put you out, the fucks would've finished you off with a heavy rock, or face down in a stream. Lady Luck just kissed us all like a bitch in heat and sent our asses here in time.”
He looked at me for a full minute as his men shuffled around the bodies, staring into my soul. I couldn't tell if he was eaten up with anger or just relieved I was safe. Hell, I wasn't sure how to feel yet.
How could I go on knowing my own fucking father nearly snuffed out my life? What did I have to go back to, to fight for, after this?
The realization bit deep, injecting me with pure poison. It started like the tremors a person gets during a bad fever. I began to shake, folding my arms around myself, clammy for the first time in the stuffy night. The heat didn't deter David one bit.
He swept forward, reached out, and yanked me into his grasp. I exploded, burying my face into his collar, blubbering like a baby.
“Calm your sweet ass down, babe. It's gonna be all right.” He leaned in and kissed my forehead, which only made me cry harder. “Fuck. Normally, I'd tan your hide raw for running off and almost getting yourself killed. Think you've learned your fucking lesson this time, though. Never leave me again.”
I looked up, brushing away tears and meeting his dark eyes. Lust, rage, and sadness beamed there, mirrors of the same emotions that branded my soul since I first came to this place.
“I won't.” I said the words and felt them ripple in my head over and over, fading
after the great shock.
Was this really me talking? Me, the same girl who'd done everything in her power to flee this brutish man just a couple hours ago?
“Damned right. Come on. Let's get back to the house and clean you up.” He led me away, stopping only briefly to whisper a few words to his men.
“Clean this horseshit up the way we usually do. Save the patches on their kevlar. If old man Rossini comes knocking, we'll let his stupid ass know exactly what happened to his boys. Right now, I'm more interested in what's gonna happen to his daughter.”
We walked on. David's hand slipped lower, reached for my ass, and gave me a slap when we were almost outside the clearing. The dark sedan that picked us up before was waiting.
It surprised me, but not half as much as the sharp crack on my butt. I stopped, looked at him in the darkness, trying not to meltdown all over again.
“What?” He grunted into the night. “You expect me to hold your little hand while I tuck you in tonight like a Princess? You're my wife, babe, and you've been bad.”
I blinked, confused. My fear and uncertainty returned in a heartbeat. Just when he'd seemed like a savior too.
David stepped forward, jaw tight, ready to bare his teeth. He reached for both my wrists and jerked me toward him again, hurling me against his chest as we stood next to the dark car.
“We're going home, pet. Nothing that happened out here tonight changes shit. If it makes you stop fighting so fucking hard, then fine. Either way, I haven't altered the plans I set this morning. Soon as we're home, I'm hauling you upstairs and fucking that virgin pussy. You tried to get away and you fucked up. Don't expect comfort. Don't expect sympathy. Don't expect anything except my dick between your legs and my hands all over you, showing you what's right, showing you who cares – the only asshole in the world who does now!”
His voice was turning hotter and angrier by the second. The tip of his tongue darted out and licked his lips, like a predator testing its teeth.
“I never asked for this,” I said coldly, struggling in his hands.
Snarling, he tightened his fists. Pulling me in, he held me against his huge torso, held me until I stopped squirming.