by Sweet, Izzy
Abigail needs me.
I drive like a madwoman. Ignoring stop signs and the speed limit.
I wait until I’m pulling out of the neighborhood before I dial Ivan. Punching his number into the phone, I hold my breath, and nearly jump out of my skin when the ringing comes through the speakers.
“Hello?” Ivan answers, sounding irritated.
“Ivan?” I say tentatively, unsure of his reaction.
“Myshka?” Ivan breathes in surprise. “Is that you?”
“Yes!” I choke out, relieved that he picked up. I don’t know what I would have done if I couldn’t get in touch with him.
“Where are you?” he asks. “Who are you with?”
“I don’t know where I am,” I answer him honestly.
None of the streets look familiar to me. I’ve never been on this side of the city before. This is a newer subdivision that looks like it just popped up. Everything is new—the disturbed dirt, the paint on the streets, and the traffic signs. There’s even a little shopping center that matches the design of the houses.
“Who’s with you?”
“No one. I got away. Someone—”
“Ah, little one, you did well. Do you have a GPS?”
“Yes. I’m pretty sure the phone does. Ivan, someone took—”
“Good. Good,” Ivan purrs. “I’m going to give you an address. I want you to meet me at the address.”
“Okay,” I agree, a little frustrated he keeps cutting
me off.
I pull into the parking lot of the shopping center.
Ivan rattles off an address and I punch it into the phone. The GPS gives me a route and an estimated arrival of fifteen minutes.
“Do you have it, myshka?”
“Yes, I think I know how to get there…”
“If you have any trouble, call me,” he says firmly.
“I will,” I state and then take a deep breath.
I know he has her, I know it, yet… what if he doesn’t?
“Ivan,” I exhale. “Someone took Abigail.”
“I know.”
I wait a moment, expecting him to say more. When he doesn’t, I ask. “Did you?”
“We’ll discuss it when you get here.”
There’s a little click and I stare at the display screen.
Is that it? Is that all he’s going to say on the matter?! I push a couple of buttons but nothing happens.
The line dead, the car switches over to the radio. Heavy metal music starts blaring. I scream and pound my hands against the steering wheel.
That fucker, I know he has her. Why didn’t he just say it?
I scream once more and then turn off the music.
Getting myself under control, I focus on the plan. I need to keep my shit together if we’re going to make it through this.
I’m going to meet Ivan and convince him I’ve been held against my will so he won’t hurt Abigail. He’ll be angry, of course, but I’ve dealt with his anger before...
If I’m smart, he won’t kill me, he’ll just knock me around a bit.
With the plan in my head, I throw a glance over my shoulder and reverse out of the spot. The GPS starts spitting out directions to me once I’m back on the main road.
I’m five minutes into the drive when Johnathan’s phone starts ringing. I almost answer it out of habit and glance at the screen.
The words—Andrew calling—nearly give me a heart attack.
I’m so not answering that.
The phone rings and rings. It stops for a moment only to start ringing again.
Shit.
Andrew tries to call three more times before the phone falls silent.
I can’t talk to him; I can’t give him the chance to stop me.
I’m going to get Abigail back.
I push the gas a little harder and check the rear-view mirror. It’s not possible but I’ve got the strangest feeling that Andrew is somewhere behind me, following me.
I run through the next red light.
The phone starts ringing again. This time when I glance at the screen it reads—Lucifer calling.
Oh fuck no. I’m not stopping now.
I blow through the next two lights, narrowly avoiding an accident. Thankfully, I get lucky with the next light and then I’m turning onto the street where I’m supposed to meet Ivan.
The GPS leads me behind a strip mall. There’s only one other car back here, parked beside the dumpster. I pull up and park beside it.
The car is a sleek, shiny black and the windows are so dark I can’t see through them. I stare and stare, then suddenly remember I didn’t put the necklace on. I’m scrambling to get it clasped behind my neck when there’s a slight rapping on my window.
“Unlock the door,” a muffled voice says.
I hesitate for only a second before hitting the button.
The lock pops up and my door is immediately pulled open. Before I can grab the phone a black-gloved hand reaches in and grabs my hands. My seatbelt is unsnapped and then I’m yanked out of the car.
I hit the pavement, dropping to my knees, and then I’m yanked back up. I’m half-dragged, half-pushed to the other car by two strange men clad in all black.
“Where’s Ivan?” I ask frantically, afraid I’ve made a big mistake. Is this a trap?
“Don’t worry, myshka, I’m right here,” Ivan purrs from inside the car.
I’m shoved through the back door and nearly fall onto Ivan’s lap.
The car door shuts behind me.
21
Amy
Little one, how I’ve missed you,” Ivan says huskily, grabbing me and pulling me closer to him.
I fight the urge to pull back, to stiffen, and will my body to relax.
I can do this. I can do this, I repeat inside my head.
I can endure anything to get Abigail back.
Ivan settles me on his lap and wraps an arm around my back, his hand coming to rest on my hip. His other hand tips my chin up, forcing me to look at him.
I stare at his face as his eyes roam over me possessively. He looks rougher than I remember. There’s a strain around his eyes I don’t recognize, and his nose is crooked, ruining his perfection.
“Where’s Abigail?” I ask.
His phone starts ringing.
The car starts up and backs up. Then I sense us rolling forward.
Ivan’s hand drops away, shoving into his pocket. He pulls out his phone and gives me that look he always gives me whenever he has to take a call.
“Hello?” Ivan answers, and then the rest of the conversation is in Russian.
His eyes drop to my chest, lingering on the little bit of cleavage I’m showing while he talks to whoever is on the line.
I wait and I wait. Squirming on top of his lap with impatience. Then I just can’t wait any longer for him to finish.
“Where’s Abigail?” I whisper. “Do you have her?”
He ignores me. The hand on my back drags up. He gathers up my hair and pulls it off my shoulders.
“Where’s Abigail?” I repeat. I don’t know how the fuck I’m going to convince him I don’t hate his guts if he keeps ignoring me like this.
His hand comes around. His fingers tracing the curve of the necklace.
“Can I see her?”
His fingers follow the necklace until they near my cleavage. Then they break away to trace lightly against the tops of my breasts
“Ivan,” I say, reaching up and grabbing his hand. “Please.”
Something flashes in his eyes. Fuck. It’s been so long I’ve forgot who I’m dealing with.
He snaps something sharp into the phone then lowers it to the seat.
“Yes,” he says softly, menacingly. “I have her.”
“Where is she? Can I see her?”
“Yes, you can see her after we arrive.”
He starts to pick up his phone.
“Is she hurt?” I ask.
“No, she’s not hurt,” he answers impatiently, dropping the phone back
down to the seat.
Before I can relax with relief, he grabs me by the chin and squeezes painfully.
I stare into his eyes and watch all his features tighten with anger.
“You know better than to interrupt my calls, myshka.”
He waits for me to nod my head, to acknowledge it. I do know. I’ve learned this lesson before, painfully.
His thumb strokes across my bottom lip. My heart thumps sickly behind my ribs.
For a moment, I wonder if he’s going to kiss me. To me that would be a punishment…
His thumb falls away and his fingers tighten around my cheeks.
His fingers squeeze and squeeze until I let go of his hand and cry out in pain.
“Now shut your mouth before I fuck it, Amy,” he hisses.
I flinch, expecting him to hit me.
Fuck, this was such a bad idea. I’ve only been with him for a few minutes and I’m already pissing him off.
He smiles, his bright eyes glittering dangerously then he releases me. He picks his phone off the seat and mutters something in Russian. A moment later he laughs and I shrink away, knowing I just got off easy.
I spend the rest of the car ride looking out the window while his hand roams all over me. Chilling me until I feel nothing at all.
He has Abigail, I keep reminding myself. My fingers curl, my nails digging into my palms.
Outside the window, tall, familiar buildings scroll by. We drive deep into the city, then the scenery becomes less familiar as we enter a ghetto. It’s like watching a future time lapse video sped up. The houses begin to rot from neglect, crumbling away before my eyes.
The street we turn down is more field than lawns. We pull up in front of an old, deteriorating Victorian mansion.
It looks like he’s really come down in the world.
The door pops open and Ivan gives me a nudge, expecting me to get out.
I slide off his lap and out the door. The two men dressed in all black await me.
I try not to let them freak me out as I take in the outside of the house. It’s quiet around here, there’s not much going on, and I don’t see any other guards. These two will have to sleep sometime. If I can find Abigail and slip out of the house, it may not be that hard to get away.
Ivan comes out of the car behind me and his hand nudges the small of my back. I start forward, his hand guiding me up the steps of the house.
I await until we’re inside the front hallway before I ask, “Where’s Abigail?”
He doesn’t answer. He leads me down the dark hallway and opens a door on the right.
“Can I see her?”
He shoves me inside.
Slamming the door behind him, we’re thrust into the dark.
“Ivan?” I gasp, spinning around.
The light flickers on.
“Myshka,” Ivan purrs while loosening his tie. “I’ve missed you.”
I take a step back as he yanks off his tie. “I want to see my daughter.”
Slowly Ivan shakes his head and begins to unbutton his cuffs. “After I’m done.”
He takes a step forward and I take another step back, glancing behind me. We’re in a bedroom. The curtains are all closed, and a large, king-sized bed is pushed up against the wall.
He takes another step forward and I take another step back, carefully avoiding the bed.
“Please,” I plead. It feels like I’ve been doing a lot of this, pleading with him when I was expecting to manipulate him.
He closes the distance between us, backing me up against the wall. He looms over me, caging me in with his body, and then he strokes the back of his hand across my cheek.
Remembering that I wanted to use his feelings for me to give me what I want, I force myself to lean into his caress. To act like it doesn’t make my skin crawl.
“I won’t be able to relax until I see her,” I murmur.
His hand stills and I glance up, hoping to see him softening towards me.
Instead, his eyes narrow to slits. Cold and hard.
Grabbing me by the back of my head, he yanks on my hair, forcing my chin up.
“Now you know how I felt,” he says angrily, and then he’s brutally kissing my mouth.
His lips smash mine against my teeth and his fingers tighten in my hair.
I reach up and try to push him away. He breaks the kiss and shoves me into the wall.
Panting heavily, he stares at me like he can’t decide what to do. His eyes wavering between pleasure and pain.
Before I can think of something to say, a means to placate him in some way, he’s grabbing me and kissing me again.
I start to taste blood before his tongue forces its way into my mouth.
“Amy,” he groans as his tongue touches mine, tasting my blood.
He starts to relax against me and I fight the urge to bite the fucker off. Instead, I force myself to relax into the kiss.
“I’ve been so worried.”
His hand covers my breast, cupping and squeezing me through my blouse.
His knees try to force their way between my knees and it’s everything I can do to keep myself from kneeing him in the balls.
“I kept waiting for Lucifer to ransom you to me…”
As if just remembering something, he stiffens against me and pulls away. “Why didn’t Lucifer ransom you to me?”
I don’t know what to tell him. If I tell him about Andrew, he’ll kill me and I’ll never see Abigail.
None of this is working out the way I thought it would work out.
“Why didn’t he ransom you to me?” he asks.
I open my mouth but nothing comes out.
“Did he touch you?” he asks angrily, his fingers squeezing around my breast.
“No!” I cry out and try to jerk away.
“Don’t lie to me. Why else wouldn’t he give you back to me?!”
I grab at his hand, my eyes watering with tears as I try to pull his hand off. He squeezes and squeezes until it hurts so much I’m sinking to my knees.
“Lucifer didn’t touch me, Ivan… Please stop hurting me!” I beg when I fail to yank him off.
His fingers tighten and I scream. “He didn’t!”
Then suddenly the pain stops.
“I believe you,” he says.
I sob and slump against the wall.
“I’m sorry, myshka. I believe you,” he says while reaching for me, his voice thick with remorse.
I shake my head and try to ward him off with my hands but he just knocks them away and drags me back up.
My breast throbs with pain and I can’t stop sobbing.
Ivan kisses me like he’s trying to apologize to me. It’s sweet and tender at first but quickly turns vicious when I don’t start to respond.
“I’m sorry,” he says angrily, kissing me hard. “You drive me fucking crazy, Amy. The thought of another man touching what’s mine…”
He kisses me harder, deeper. His tongue is like a worm in my mouth.
I shake my head and try to push him away. I can’t do this, I can’t.
I thought I could pretend to get us out of this but I hate him too fucking much.
“What more do you fucking want from me?” he asks, ripping his mouth away. “I said I was sorry, you ungrateful little bitch.”
The question may be rhetorical and said in anger but it doesn’t stop me from reminding him, “I want Abigail.”
He stills and regards me silently. It’s everything I can do to keep from shrinking beneath his gaze.
Then he suddenly reaches down and tries to yank my skirt up. “You’ll get what you want after I get what I want.”
“No!” I shriek and slap his hands away.
“You little bitch,” he snarls and backhands me across the face.
Momentarily stunned, he manages to get my skirt up.
His fingers run along the crotch of my panties and suddenly I can move again. I kick, scream and punch at him, trying to fight him off. I get in a couple of blows to his c
hest and face before he captures my hands.
When he yanks my arms above my head, I bring my knee up, ramming it into his balls. He drops my arms and doubles over.
I slip around him and make a dash for a door. Running like my life depends upon it, I get my hand on the door knob before I’m yanked back and thrown to the floor.
“You fucking cunt! I gave you everything and this is how you repay me?” Ivan bellows, coming down on top of me.
“You’re just like the rest of them. Taking and taking!” He reaches down and grabs the diamond necklace around my throat.
Twisting the necklace, he starts using the chain to choke me. “I’m tired of fucking giving! It’s time to take what I want!”
22
Andrew
Fuck. It’s not Johnathan’s fault that Amy got away, but I can’t help wishing he had a thicker fucking skull.
As soon as he was able to get to a phone he called me, and thank the fucking devil himself I was so damn close to the house. Whatever Amy fucking thinks this will accomplish though is beyond me. Putting herself in jeopardy now will only put Abigail in further jeopardy.
Thank fuck for being able to track another person’s phone. “Give me your password Johnathan.”
“Fuck, capital J one tits.”
“J one tits?” What the fuck?
“Yeah…”
“Alright, thanks.”
Hanging up with him, I call Simon next. “Track Johnathan’s phone.”
Giving him the details on the phone, I wait as I hear him typing into something. “Got it. You aren’t too far from her. She’s heading west on Old Mill road.”
“Got it, now lock in on my phone and see if there’s an opportunity to intercept her.”.
There’s too much silence right now, I need to try to reach her. “I have to try calling her. I’ll call right back.”
“Okay.”
Dialing Amy five times is killing me. Each time she doesn’t answer, I feel my heart sinking lower and lower. This is such a stupid fucking move on her part. I know she wants to protect Abigail, but we have to do this the right way or it all goes fucking wrong.
Not getting an answer, I call Simon back. “No answer.”
“Okay, you should be able to get behind her at Old Mill and Harper,” Simon says through the phone. “But you need to hurry.”