by Red Phoenix
“The head is where we lose most of our heat. Hopefully it will provide you with enough protection.”
“It will do,” Rytsar replied.
As soon as they exited the building they were hit by a brilliant winter sun and the severe temperatures of a Russian cold front. Having faced the cold in his cell, Rytsar was not shocked by it and smiled at the others, grateful to be alive.
Captain ordered Wallace to lean against him and they started off. Rytsar was actually surprised when the four of them made it to the outskirts of the Koslov compound unharrassed. He was deeply impressed that the deal Thane had struck through his brother Vlad had been enticing enough to convince the Koslovs to let him go. Rytsar was both curious and terrified to find out what had been promised.
Equally impressive were the three people who’d come to his rescue and gotten him out alive.
He glanced at Samantha, understanding that her handling of the situation had given them this chance. It was a terrible burden to be beholden to someone you hated with every part of your being. Still, he respected her efforts in this.
Then there was Captain. Rytsar would never forget the courage he showed when Stas was ready to cut his only eye from him. The man didn’t move, willingly accepting his fate without reservation.
And Wallace… Up until this point he had thought little of the man, deeply offended by his past interactions with Brie. But the Wolf Pup had changed over the years and after the courage he’d shown today, Rytsar had only the highest regard for him now.
Suddenly, a feeling of unease crept over him and he stopped in his tracks.
“I cannot go yet.”
The three looked at Rytsar as if he were crazy, but he ignored them, turning back toward the compound and whistling as loud as he could.
“Are you mad?” Samantha exclaimed.
Rytsar shook his head, looking to the trees, hoping to see movement. He had no idea if the dog was around, but he did not want to abandon it. He wouldn’t be here now if it hadn’t been for the diligence of the stray.
Rytsar whistled again and started moving back toward the compound, causing his companions great anxiety.
“We are not here to seek revenge today,” Captain stated in no uncertain terms.
To Rytsar’s relief he saw the dog break through the trees, making a beeline for him. Rytsar forgot his pain as he ran toward the animal, his arms outstretched.
The beast leaped into the air and landed in his arms, whining joyfully as it licked his face.
“What the hell?” Samantha cried, familiar with Rytsar’s aversion to animals.
Rytsar turned to face the three, amused by the pink tongue that kept lapping his cheek in gratitude. “This dog helped save my life,” he explained. “I could not leave it behind any more than I could a comrade.”
“Put it down,” Samantha insisted. “You’re going to reopen your wounds.”
As much as he hated to admit it, Samantha was correct. He could already feel the pain in his ribs intensifying with each passing second. Rytsar let the animal jump out of his arms and accepted Samantha’s offer to lean on her as they continued moving forward.
“We can’t chance the Koslovs changing their minds,” he stated gruffly, wanting her to know that it was the only reason he was accepting her support.
“The helicopter is just over the next hill,” Captain informed him.
“I can make that,” Rytsar stated. “How about you, Wallace?”
Wallace gave a thumbs-up in answer, unable to speak as he held on to Captain with a white-knuckle grip.
The next hill seemed to take forever to crest, but Rytsar was greatly relieved when they did and he looked back to see that no one was following them.
When he turned back, however, he noticed that the shirt Wallace was holding against his eye was soaked with blood. “Press harder,” Rytsar advised him. “You must get the bleeding to stop.”
Faelan pushed his palm against the material, grimacing in pain.
Rytsar grimaced with him, hating that he was suffering. Another casualty in a long line of people who knew him.
As they approached the helicopter, Rytsar recognized the face of a person sitting beside the pilot.
“Andrev?” he murmured, snarling under his breath.
Captain spoke up. “Sir Davis had to fight hard after your brothers refused to help.”
“Why am I not surprised to hear that about my brothers?” Rytsar spat. “They are worthless men.”
“However,” Captain continued, “as you can see by your brother’s presence, Sir Davis did not take no for an answer.”
Rytsar continued to stare at Andrev as they drew nearer. He was extremely displeased to see his brother there. Theirs was a bad history. In fact, he despised his brother, unable to forgive Andrev for his cowardly betrayal years ago. “I wish he hadn’t come,” Rytsar growled.
Samantha surprised him when she said, “He was the one who convinced the others. Like him or not, you are alive because of Andrev’s influence.”
Rytsar glared at her. “I have several people I do not care to be beholden to.”
Samantha met his disdain without flinching. “I don’t expect your gratitude or your forgiveness. I came here because I did not want you to die.”
Rytsar frowned. How terrible was fate to make an abusive woman and a treacherous brother be his rescue team?
Glupyy began growling when they got within a few feet of Andrev. Even the dog did not like the spineless cretin.
His brother raised his gun and pointed it at the beast. “Would you like me to shoot the rabid animal?”
Rytsar grabbed his wrist, forcing the gun down. “No one touches my dog.” He whistled and pointed. The dog jumped into the helicopter exactly where Rytsar had indicated and sat, waiting.
Captain helped Faelan into the helicopter before boosting Samantha up and climbing in himself.
As the helicopter took off, Andrev turned around and stared at Rytsar, wearing an irritating smirk. “You know what they say about animal lovers…”
“My dog would bite your dick off if you tried,” Rytsar answered. Deciding to change the name of his venerated pup, he added, “Mudryy doesn’t suffer idiots.”
Andrev scoffed. “Who names a sobaka ‘wise’?”
Rytsar lifted his chin smugly. “I do. This dog obviously despises you, which only illustrates the canine’s superior intelligence.”
Andrev huffed and turned around as the helicopter changed direction and started toward Moscow.
Rytsar looked out the window at the disappearing buildings of the compound. He noted the position of them from above, adding it to his knowledge of it from the ground. He suspected the Koslovs would return to Moscow now that he was gone, which worked in perfectly with his plan.
First, he needed to make a few modifications within the compound itself. Then he planned to apply pressure on the Koslov organization. Just enough to send the brothers running back to their isolated compound.
Then the games would begin. Revenge so sweet—on Rytsar’s terms.
How profoundly ironic that in trying to subdue their competition through violence and fear, the Koslov brothers had constructed their own demise.
Rytsar turned his attention onto his three rescuers, scolding them. “You should never have done this. The risk was too great—and the cost.”
He looked at Wallace with growing concern.
Wallace stated through gritted teeth, “It was my choice, and I would do it again.”
The dog seemed sensitive to his pain and whined, thrusting its nose on Wallace’s lap and looking up at him in compassion.
Rytsar was moved by the man’s uncompromising courage. “I promise I will see to it your sacrifice is not wasted.”
Wallace lifted his head. “Yes.”
As soon as Samantha saw his worsening condition, she barked a question at the pilot, who pointed to the first aid box. Grabbing it, she ripped through the box, gathering bandages, gauze, saline, antiseptic and g
loves.
With care, she removed the shirt from Wallace’s face.
The bleeding eye socket was quickly washed out, covered with gauze, and carefully bandaged up. “This only acts as a temporary solution,” she apologized. “You are losing blood.”
Wallace nodded, applying pressure to the bandage.
Her voice wavered as she told him, “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” he asked hoarsely.
Her reply was tinged with remorse. “I wish I could have stopped them.”
Wallace shook his head. “None of us would be alive if you had tried. There is no room for regret.”
Captain spoke up, obviously upset. “I should have been the one. I have so few years left.”
“No,” Wallace answered him firmly. “Age has nothing to do with this.”
Andrev huffed. “I would not have given you my eye, brother.”
“No, you wouldn’t,” Rytsar snarled. “You are too much of a sniveling coward to understand what sacrifice is.”
“Not so.”
Rytsar glared at him. “I know differently.”
“Do you not question why I am here, Anton?”
“Yes, and I am angered by it.”
He leaned toward him and said earnestly, “I came to save your life, brother.”
Rytsar snarled. “I remember how it ended between us. Your actions proved then that you are not my brother.”
“I was wrong to have done what I did.”
“Wrong?” Rytsar growled. “You betrayed me! There can be no forgiveness after such treason.”
“I knew this would be your reaction,” Andrev growled. “Nothing I do will change your hatred for me. Yet…I came.”
“Only because my true brother forced you,” Rytsar countered.
“It is true that the American forced my hand.”
Rytsar snorted in disgust.
“But in the end, it was I who chose to help. Without me, you would have died.”
“Better to die than to be indebted to you.”
“You are a fool, Anton,” he spat, turning to face forward again.
“I remember well how you begged and pleaded for my help, Andrev. Despite your incredibly long history of spinelessness, I came to your aid because you were my brother. As a Durov, I could not stand by and see you destroyed. Like a glupyy, I believed blood meant something. But no. You turned around and immediately stabbed me in the back like the snake you are and have always been.”
Rytsar leaned forward and hissed. “I was a fool then, but I’m not one now.”
He leaned back in his seat and glanced at Wallace, who had proven to be more of a brother than his own kin. “It is imperative we get him to the hospital.”
“You are both headed there,” Captain informed him.
Rytsar snarled in disapproval. “I have too much to do and no time.”
Captain clamped his hand on Rytsar’s shoulder and squeezed until the pain demanded his attention. “You will take care of this body or it will undermine us when we mount the attack.”
Rytsar stared hard at the experienced military leader for several moments, then smiled, appreciating his advice and offer. “Agreed.”
Captain addressed Samantha next. “Wallace and you will stay behind of course.”
“Oh no, I won’t,” she snapped. “I’m every bit as capable as you are.”
“But—”
“Don’t give me any sexist bullshit.”
“I wasn’t going to,” he admonished. “Wallace needs someone beside him after the serious trauma he endured.”
“Don’t use my injury as an excuse,” Wallace stated, his blue eye locked on Captain’s. “I plan to join you.”
Captain pulled no punches, responding, “You are compromised. Not only physically but mentally. Right now you’re in shock and can’t appreciate the seriousness of it.”
Before Wallace could argue Rytsar spoke up, telling him, “I need you to return to America to speak with Thane and Brie. They will have many questions only someone who was there can answer. I also need you back in the States to ensure nothing happens with Lilly.”
“But I—” Faelan began to protest.
Rytsar raised his hand to stop any more argument. “You know how I feel about the beast, so I need you handling that situation personally. I can’t have any distractions if I am to succeed.” Although Rytsar’s true motivation was to get Wallace safely out of Russia, all his points were valid and did not undermine Wallace’s authority.
He watched Wallace struggle with his request. It was admirable that the man wanted to fight alongside him, but it was not wise and Rytsar could not handle any more blood on his hands.
Wallace looked to Samantha, seeking support.
“I agree with Durov,” she responded. “You are needed back in LA and you require time to heal.”
“I concur,” Captain stated firmly.
Wallace looked down at the dog, still resting its head on his lap. With a sigh of resignation, he accepted his dismissal.
Rytsar patted the dog’s hind end and smiled at the man. “Good.”
Asking for Andrev’s cell phone, Rytsar made a phone call to his trusted sub, Dessa. Even though they had been released, it was imperative that they disappear once they reached Moscow.
The Koslovs could not be trusted.
When they landed, her car was waiting for them. Rytsar personally helped Wallace into the car himself, telling Dessa, “Take us to Dr. Petrov, and drive as fast as you can.”
“Oh my God, Rytsar,” the woman cried when her gaze landed on him. “You’re hurt.”
He had forgotten how he must look to others who didn’t know he’d been imprisoned and tortured for weeks. Rytsar shrugged off her concern with a smile. “It’s nothing. But we need to get to Petrov as soon as possible.”
Dessa had tears in her eyes as she nodded in answer. “Of course.”
Getting such a reaction from her was a surprise to him. Dessa was normally impassive and quiet. Just how bad did he look?
The ride was a silent one. Rytsar petted the dog that lay on his lap, quelling his concern for Wallace’s injury, which continued to bleed profusely.
He will be okay, Rytsar assured himself. He has to be.
Lesson in Sadism
Rytsar shattered the prolonged silence to distract himself from his growing apprehension by asking, “Why did you really come, Samantha?”
She didn’t answer him, so he turned to face her.
Samantha gave him a look of sympathy, saying nothing as she stared at the wounds covering his face and chest.
Rytsar did not appreciate her compassion and growled menacingly.
“Samantha was the only one of us, besides Thane, who knew Russian,” Captain explained. “She has played a vital role in the negotiations and your extraction.”
Rytsar faced her again. “You spoke to all of my brothers?” he asked with a tinge of disgust.
“Yes.”
His familial ties had shattered after their mother was murdered.
“Thane contacted them first, of course,” Samantha added.
Rytsar glared at Andrev. He clearly saw the faces of all four siblings when looking at him, since the Durov men had very distinctive facial characteristics.
Naturally, Rytsar was the best looking of the group, but there were enough similarities to leave no doubt they were brothers. How he wished that was not the case.
He despised the fact they all looked like his father.
In making Rytsar the whipping boy, Vladimir had created an odd dynamic between him and his brothers. They ended up resenting Rytsar as they grew into adulthood because they knew the heavy price he’d paid on their behalf, and had no way to repay it. Rather than feeling gratitude, they’d separated themselves from him.
His father, on the other hand, had taken Rytsar under his wing after abusing him all those years. He was proud to have a son who was strong and unafraid.
Rytsar was introduced to Vladimir’s secret BDSM
society at the age of fifteen. Rytsar never trusted his father, but he soaked up everything the man taught him because they shared a passion for delivering pain.
The difference between them came in the reason why they enjoyed it.
His father was a weakling inside. His tough exterior hid the truth from everyone. The crueler he became, the more respect he was given until he began to believe he was a great man.
Rytsar was nothing like his father—even though an outsider might disagree. Although they shared sadistic tendencies, Rytsar’s sadism was of a purely sexual nature. It turned him on to deliver pain to those who enjoyed it. He savored the unusual power exchange.
Even at the tender age of fifteen, he’d fed off the energy that pain delivered as pleasure caused. A woman’s screams thrilled him and her tears were an aphrodisiac.
He had a voracious appetite for both.
His father took pride in that and pushed Rytsar by offering different scenarios for his son to explore in the kinky and forbidden underground world he’d created.
“How old is she?” Rytsar asked, looking at the naked woman through the one-way glass that separated them.
“Barely legal, son.”
“How much experience?”
“One boyfriend.”
“Why is she here?”
His father laughed. “She wants to taste the hand of a sadist and is hungry to know the excitement of a man skilled in producing pain.”
Rytsar looked at the camera equipment in the room. “Why is it being recorded?”
“She needed the money and was open to the offer.”
“Why don’t you scene with her then?” he stated, not caring to be filmed.
Vladimir stared at him with a look that made Rytsar’s skin crawl. “It’s time to critique your growth, son.”
Rytsar looked at the naked girl, watching her erect nipples move up and down rapidly as she took shallow breaths. They indicated both her excitement—and fear. He couldn’t deny that her need called out to him.
Besides, the girl didn’t deserve Vladimir.
“You’ll do it then?” his father asked.
Rytsar looked him in the eye, hiding his smile. “I will, but you must leave.”