by Sweet, Izzy
“She had her gun out and pointing at dear old dad’s forehead. She had that motherfucker dead to rights. I couldn’t hear all the words she spoke, but it looked like she was pretty damn pissed. Then Alexei snapped her up and pulled the trigger on her father with her. He forced her to shoot her own dad,” he says.
My stomach fucking drops out from me as I think on what I just heard. Fuck me with a broomstick. Both of those little facts are a huge fucking revelation.
She was still stupid as fuck to run away from my fucking protection, but she did it for answers. I probably would have done the same thing.
“Fucking cock-sucking, tiny-dicked fuck,” I growl.
Johnathan leans back in his seat as he pulls his gun out and does a quick check to make sure it’s loaded. “Yep.”
* * *
“We have a possible location for Alexei,” Simon says over the communications channel all of our guys are currently using.
“Where, and how reliable is the source?” I ask quickly.
So far none of us have had any luck driving through Bethlehem. The Audis were found ditched and lit on fire. They did it under an overpass as soon as they got away from the highway. The cops were actually the first to spot the burning cars.
“Warehouse district on the north side of the city. The source is coming from one of the Heralds of Hell. Apparently a probationary was out on a task and spotted them dragging Meghan toward a warehouse,” Simon says.
“Probably out there checking for new spots to hide a body,” Andrew says.
“With them? I’d think they’re smarter than that,” Johnathan responds.
“That’s neither here nor there. The probationary wasn’t able to say which one of the two warehouses they’re at just yet. But he is in a spot that he can remain in in case they leave,” Simon says.
“Are the HoH willing to provide us a security perimeter?” I ask as I aim the car toward the north side of the city.
“Perimeter security only, at the moment. They don’t have enough of a lockdown on the city, and are already spread thin with their war going on with the cartels trying to get a foothold,” Simon says.
“Offer a very large cash incentive and a favor from us,” Lucifer says through the line. “I don’t want these pests getting away from us.”
“That could be costly. They’re in a large bind right now with members and infighting,” Johnathan says.
“I don’t give a fucking shit about cost. I’ll do anything they need me to do if they help,” I say.
The line goes silent as we head toward the warehouse districts. My head is fucking racing a mile a minute as I try to figure out an angle that will work. I can’t risk another fucking minute of Meghan getting hurt.
“I’m sending the latest updates on the warehouses they’re suspected to be in to your phones. James, you’re closest. Get a position up high and see if you can spot heat signatures with any of the gear you have,” Simon says.
“Roger that, but I need to leave here as soon as this shit’s over. I’ve got something I need to take care of.”
“What do you have that’s more pressing?” Simon snarls out.
“He’s cleared it with me and I’m in full agreement. James needs to do another job. Right now, we have a small group of outsiders tailing the police chief’s daughter. We need one of us watching her now. We still don’t know why they took out the chief,” Lucifer says.
“Fine, but we all need to have a meeting soon. We’re becoming stretched too thin. We need more men in here,” Simon snaps.
The suspected warehouses are only fifteen minutes away, but it feels like fifteen hundred fucking miles.
Five minutes out, a panting James comes back on the line. “Got into a nice little hidey-hole. Saw the probationary for HoH, he didn’t see me though.”
“Do you have heat signatures in the buildings?” Simon asks.
“Confirming right now. First building is as empty as your testicles, Simon,” James says with a chuckle.
“You little fucking shit—” Simon starts to snarl at him.
“Hush, young man, I’m working here,” James retorts. “Everyone hold about a minute out. I’m getting heat signatures and I need to get placements.”
“Can you confirm any of the Russians?” Lucifer asks after a minute. “We don’t need to break up a meat packing plant.”
“Nah, we won’t be doing that,” James says, then goes on. “Got ‘em. Eleven bodies. One is laying down on what is probably a table, but shows no cold spots. Gonna say from the sizing it’s Gabriel’s little munchkin. She’s got two men with her. One is going to be Alexei, I bet.”
“Good,” Lucifer says. “Meet up and swarm.”
20
Meghan
Pain. So much pain pumps through me, tearing through my head, my heart, my very being, I sink into the oblivion to escape it.
I welcome the darkness. I welcome the relief it gives.
I don’t want to remember; I just want to forget.
But words drift into my dreams. Words that tickle at my mind and threaten to pull me back to my horrible reality.
Words that don’t make any sense.
“I should have blown you up with that mother of yours… or sold you to the fucking Saudis. You’ve been nothing but a pain in my ass since the moment I laid eyes on you.”
The pounding behind my eyes increases. It’s so terrible, I fight off consciousness. Fight off having to face it.
Someone sighs heavily.
“But alas, you’ve fucking bewitched me...”
Blissful silence wraps around me, the annoying voice quieting, and I begin to drift away…
Only to be yanked back again.
“If only you weren’t so beautiful… so perfect…”
Something touches my head and I whimper, trying to move away from it.
Just go away and leave me in peace, I want to yell, but it would take too much effort to do so.
“Are you hurting, zaika?”
I groan and squeeze my eyes tight, wishing the words would just stop. Not only do they cut through my head, they’re also a hook and line, reeling me out of my darkness.
“Good,” the voice practically purrs, and then there’s a sharp tug on my scalp. “You deserve the pain and so much more for what you’ve put me through.”
Inside I’m screaming in agony as my head is forced up.
“Do you know how much I’ve worried about you?”
Someone’s cool breath hits my face.
“Do you know how much I’ve suffered not knowing what those pizdas were doing to you?”
I don’t care. I don’t care. It’s nothing to me.
The voice grows sharper, angrier, as if it’s in tune with my pain, finding its beat. “You’re mine… mine to break and tame and mold as I please.”
Fighting the grip on my hair only causes a spike of intense agony to slam into my brain.
“Tell me… Answer me honestly and I’ll give you something for the pain. Did he fuck you? Did he use what belongs to me?”
A tightness wraps around my throat, but the discomfort is insignificant compared to what I’m already experiencing.
“This is your one and only chance to be honest with me.”
Even in my nearly delirious state, I understand the significance of the question and fear answering it.
A fleeting thought whispers beneath the pain.
I’m not the only one in danger here.
Suddenly the tugging on my scalp eases, but the constriction around my neck increases.
As the seconds tick by, it becomes harder and harder to breathe.
True darkness rises up inside me, cold and black and ready to swallow me.
This darkness isn’t like the other, though, and it frightens me.
“Tell me!” the voice demands.
I’m shaken, and pure, sheer agony courses through me.
“Tell me!”
Seeking only to get the voice to stop so I can be left in pe
ace, I manage to push out a choked whisper. “Yes.”
The grip around my throat goes slack for a moment, long enough for me to pull in some much-needed air, and then it suddenly tightens until it’s crushing the life out of me.
Pressure. There’s so much pressure.
My eyes pop open from the power of it.
Alexei’s snarling face stares down at me.
“I’ll fucking kill him.”
His face begins to blur, that darkness creeping back in until it completely swallows me up.
“I’ll kill them all!”
* * *
Something hard and cold slides inside of me.
Unlike earlier, the feeling is so jarring, so disturbing and violating, I immediately stir to full consciousness.
What the hell is going on?
It felt like it does when I go to the…
Oh god.
Immediately, I take stock of my body. Strangely, I’m no longer in any pain, but I can’t seem to move my limbs.
And there’s this a pressure… an uncomfortable pressure below my waist.
“Ah, yes…” a foreign, unfamiliar voice says from somewhere below me. “She was used.”
I begin to open my eyes only to stop when I hear Alexei’s voice.
“Used?” he clenches out.
I don’t know why, but instead of trying to fight, I stiffen, petrified of moving. It’s as if I’ve suddenly turned to stone.
“Yes, most definitely used,” the unfamiliar voice says in a detached way. “And from the micro-tearing I’m observing, she was used roughly.”
Alexei mutters a bunch of Russian words I don’t understand, and I nearly jump out of my skin when there’s a loud thud.
The terror holding me hostage tightens its grip.
“Remember, I’m Armenian, not Russian. Speak English,” the stranger grumbles.
Alexei mutters some more in Russian before taking a deep, calming breath. Then he asks, “Was she forced?”
There’s a pause.
Then the stranger answers, “You’ll have to ask her.”
Alexei’s voice is instantly cold, all the heat evaporating from his voice as he snaps, “I’m asking you, Dr. Petrosyan.”
The doctor hums under his breath and then says reluctantly, “It’s possible.”
Alexei returns to growling in Russian again.
As if suppressing a laugh, the doctor says, “If it makes you feel better, know that she is not permanently damaged, and I doubt it’s causing her any discomfort. She should be, as they say, as good as new in a few days.”
“That’s reassuring, for her sake,” Alexei says with so much malice all the little hairs all over my body stand on end.
A chuckle slips out of the doctor. “Indeed. However, we’ll need to take a few steps to ensure there’s not an unwanted pregnancy.”
Wait… what? There’s no way I’m pregnant…
“Unwanted pregnancy?” Alexei hisses.
“Yes. There’s evidence that whoever used her didn’t use protection. Given that it’s been a few days since we’ve removed her contraceptive device, there is a slim, very slim, chance she could be pregnant.”
My knee-jerk reaction is disbelief.
The doctor must be confused, because I still have an IUD…
A strange numbness suddenly tingles across my flesh.
He said they removed my contraceptive device a few days ago…
Oh god… Oh fuck.
That sick fucker must have done it when they sedated me before the wedding.
As all the implications hit me and my mind struggles to come to grips with the sick revelation, Alexei is ominously silent.
At first, I’m not even aware of it, but as time passes, it becomes more obvious, and an overwhelming sense of dread forms in the pit of my stomach.
I could be pregnant… There might be a child inside me. Gabriel’s child. And I’m stuck in this place, completely at Alexei’s mercy.
My heart begins to race and the need to escape, to get away, to protect myself and my possible unborn baby, grows with every passing second.
Just as I try to move my arms again and find them still restrained, the stranger breaks the tense silence.
“That is, if you think she’s worth the effort of salvaging.”
I freeze as I sense someone moving closer to me. Cracking my eyes open just enough to peek out of them, I see Alexei’s dark form stalking toward me through my lashes.
The look on his face is so icy, so foreboding, I squeeze my eyes shut again.
“Ah… that’s what I’m not sure of,” Alexei admits. “Is she worth the effort?”
I can’t see him, but I can sense his presence looming over me, nearly smothering me with the weight of it.
“Only you can decide that,” the doctor says quietly.
A hand touches my head and brushes my hair back. And it’s everything I can do not to squirm or giveaway that I’m conscious and aware of what’s happening.
“Explain the process and the odds of success,” Alexei says.
“Well, there are a few options,” the stranger says thoughtfully. “We could use medication to terminate any possible chance of pregnancy, but it might not take.”
Alexei sighs. “So what do you suggest?”
“A preventive termination via menstrual extraction.”
The words bang around inside my head, not making any sense.
“And, pray tell, what is that?” Alexei asks with a hint of irritation.
“A simple suction procedure that will remove anything unwanted in her womb.”
Fuck me. This guy wants to vacuum out my insides? Are you shitting me?
Sounding almost bored now, Alexei asks, “And the chance of success?”
His hand continues to stroke my hair back, and I pray to God I don’t start to break out in a cold sweat.
The doctor sounds overly cocky as he says, “In my hands, I can assure you one hundred percent.”
One hundred percent… One hundred percent chance that if Gabriel’s baby is inside me, this fucking butcher of a doctor will kill it.
Alexei’s hand stills against my hair as he asks with more interest, “And she’ll be able to have more children after the procedure?”
“Of course,” the doctor says almost cheerfully. “If you like, you can begin to breed her immediately.”
Breed me?
Breed me?!
“Oh? There’s no recovery time?”
The doctor snickers. “None is needed. The procedure itself might be long and painful, but once it’s completed her body will be ready to be impregnated.”
God help me. Is there no end to this fucking madness?
“How soon can you perform the procedure?” Alexei asks, sounding eager now.
Bile rises up in my throat and I fear I might be sick. Once again, I attempt to move my arms and legs, but there’s absolutely no give.
“Immediately. Thanks to our current operation, we already have all the equipment on hand.”
“Excellent,” Alexei says, and he moves away, taking the unwanted touch of his hand with him.
Hinges creak as a door swings open, and I peek open my eyes once again.
This time Alexei’s eyes meet mine, glittering with dark amusement.
He smiles at me and then looks to the man seated between my spread legs.
“I’ll leave you to it, Doctor. Inform me when the procedure is completed.”
21
Gabriel
Racing into the warehouse parking lot, I slam on the breaks as hard as I can before yanking the gearshift of the truck into park. It’s going to kill the fucking transmission treating it like this, but I don’t have any other choice.
Every second Meghan isn’t in my protection is a second that fucker could be hurting her.
The truck swings sideways as we come to a screeching halt.
We’ve got luck on our side to the extent that the entrance to the warehouse and parking lot looks like a gi
ant upside-down L. Trees and small buildings hide our approach, giving us the opportunity to get the jump on these dick-sticks.
Johnathan and I slide out of the driver’s side of the Lexus so we can get a good angle on the building and the two guards in front of it. Both guards stand at the office portion of the warehouse, guarding the door. So far, these are the only ones dumb enough to stand outside where we can get to them this fucking easily.
Both guards go down quickly as Johnathan and I bring our M4’s up to our shoulders and let out two suppressed shots. Blood, skull, and brain matter splat against the wall behind them before they drop to the hard asphalt.
The office portion of the building is entirely made up of bricks, with one steel-framed door for its entry. The rest of the warehouse is made of sheet metal. We knew this fucking door would be the biggest issue for us getting in.
Big issues mean big ideas. Our big idea is a shit ton of plastic explosive.
Johnathan sprints up to the door before us, his hands already moving to place the plastic explosive to take out the door frame and hopefully fuck with whoever’s in the room behind the door.
“Breach, breach, breach,” Johnathan growls out into the communication wrap that’s fitted snugly around his throat.
With those words instantly entering our ears, we all turn away from the blast zone and count down from three in our heads.
There’s a loud boom as the charges blow the door completely off the hinges, sending shrapnel flying into the room. I’m supposed to be the first guy into the building, but we have a strict protocol we follow.
So I toss a flashbang grenade into the room first. Then Andrew tosses a shrapnel grenade after mine goes off.
Disorientation and collateral damage are the keys to fucking these bastards up.
Shock and maximum carnage.
We didn’t have time to fully plot anything beyond our tactical squad order and just the roughest outlines of how the building is laid out. There simply isn’t any way to plan an operation like this without risking something bad going down with Meghan.
I can’t fucking allow that. Meghan is the one spot in my world that I base my sanity on. Without her by my side, I’m not sure I’ll be able to function. I fucking hate that I’ve put such a dependency on her.