And then Eshan leaned into the room. “Ready?”
For what? Where was he taking her?
She followed him, realizing she had nothing with her, not even a cell phone. She’d left the clinic with nothing but a gun, which she assumed Eshan had in his possession. Thank God.
He led her out the emergency room entrance to a car parked out front. The two agents who had stood outside her door followed.
It wasn’t until Eshan had her in the front seat of his car and pulled away from the hospital that she panicked.
Shit. Shit shit shit. She’d seen this agent before on occasion, but who was he? What if he was the mole? Why didn’t she question this situation? It should have seemed strange to her that she’d been whisked into the hospital, bandaged in minutes, and then released into the care of this virtual stranger way too fast. She hadn’t even signed any paperwork or given anyone her name.
Shit.
“You okay?” Eshan asked, glancing her direction.
“Sure. Yeah. Where are we going?”
“Safe house. Brown is going to meet you there.”
“Brown?”
“Taylor,” he amended.
Right. Taylor. Taylor Brown. She always called her by her first name and hadn’t even remembered her last.
“I wasn’t at the hospital very long. I didn’t even sign anything.”
He smiled. “Rushed you through to get you out of there before too many people found out where you were.”
“Russians, you mean.”
“Yes. Or whoever works for them. The FBI doesn’t like to leave people hanging wide open long in the ER. It’s dangerous. Too many things can go wrong.”
“I see.” I think.
He glanced at her with his brow furrowed. And then he took his cell phone out, hit a few buttons even though he was driving, and handed it to her.
When she tentatively reached for it, she found it ringing.
“Taylor will answer. She’ll ease your mind.”
Oh. Ohhh. He was observant if he picked up on the fact that she was having a personal internal freak out.
“Patel? Did you pick up Alena Dudko?”
“This is Alena,” she responded. “He gave me his phone.”
“Oh good. I’m meeting you at a safe house. Soon. Hold it together for me, okay?”
Honestly, Alena wasn’t sure there was anything left that she could use to hold herself together. “Okay.” The call went dead.
At least the call gave her some small peace of mind. Surely Eshan wouldn’t let her talk to Taylor if he intended to kill her or abduct her or turn her over to someone else.
They drove in silence.
Alena tried to pay attention to where they were going, but she didn’t know Chicago at all. They could have left the city entirely for all she knew.
In about thirty minutes, they pulled up to an apartment complex, and Eshan turned off the engine. He rounded the car and opened her door for her, subtly glancing around to pay attention to his surroundings.
He rushed her toward the front door of a four-story building and used a keycard to gain access. It wasn’t until they were in the elevator and he’d pushed the button for the fourth floor that he relaxed his shoulders. “You’ll be safe here.” Was he speaking to her or himself?
Moments later the elevator opened, and he led her down the hall to an apartment. She was so out of her element that she was numb, unable to properly question everything. Again she worried he could be the mole. Anyone could be the mole, but she’d never spent this much time with any of them. And certainly not alone.
When they entered the apartment, Eshan shut the door and headed for the far window. He glanced out while Alena held her breath, not bothering to sit or even move farther into the room. Her leg throbbed, but her head hurt worse. Any moment she was going to crash when the adrenaline rush ended.
She stood there in the ripped and bloody scrub pants, still wearing Katie’s jacket. Nothing had changed, except everything had changed. The last several hours seemed like a nightmare. And she was familiar with those. Though she wasn’t sure she wanted to replace her usual nightmare with this new one.
Eshan dropped the curtain and turned to face her. He pointed around the room. “There’s food in the fridge. The linens are clean. You can nap if you want. I think someone left you clean clothes in the bedroom. I’m sorry to rush, but I have to be ten other places. Please don’t open the door for anyone except Taylor. Don’t leave this apartment.
“It might be awhile before Taylor gets here, but she’ll get here as fast as she can. TV works. Remote’s on top. No phones. Sorry about that. But until Taylor meets with you, she needs you to be totally safe.”
He spoke so fast, Alena could hardly take in his words. They all ran together. And yet, she nodded.
“Belinda?” she asked.
“She’ll be with Taylor.”
“Oh.” That was good. Right?
Eshan strode quickly back across the room. “Okay, well, again, I’m sorry I have to rush, and there’s no one else available right now to come talk to you. Think you’ll be okay for a few hours?”
“Yes.” No.
Alive? Yes. Freaking out? Definitely.
“There’s an agent positioned outside. No one will find you here though, so don’t worry. You’re safe.”
Where have I heard that before?
He opened the door and then twisted around to face her again. “Lock this in both places.”
“Right. Okay.”
He nodded his apologies and left the apartment so fast she wasn’t sure he’d even been there.
She locked the door, and then for seconds, time stood still. Silence ruled. Alena’s head seemed to be filled with white noise. As if she’d spent six hours at a concert that left her with a ringing sound.
She took deep breaths, and then she lost the battle to hold it together and lowered herself to the floor right where she stood. She didn’t have the energy to move another inch. She simply sat on the plush carpet, leaned against the wall next to the door, and waited as the tears ran down her face.
She’d been shot at. No, correction, shot.
She’d worked her way through a city she wasn’t familiar with, following a woman she’d only met last week, and put herself in the most dangerous situation.
Mikhail would be livid.
Ivan would be freaking out. She knew wherever he was, he was indeed having a coronary. And as much as she wished he was right there with her, holding her, brushing her hair off her forehead, she also knew it might be best not to see him for a while.
How mad would he be? How long would it take for him to calm down? She didn’t honestly know him well enough to answer those questions. Even though they’d been living together in tight quarters for two months, she’d never seen him angry. Not like this. Not like she knew he was right at that moment.
An anger made worse by the fact that he couldn’t get to her. He liked control. He liked to know where she was at all times. He liked to tell her where to be at all times. And she’d blatantly defied him. She hadn’t thought before she acted. She’d simply gone after Belinda and followed her.
Her instinct told her to go. The same instinct that told her to bring the gun. Had her presence helped or made the situation worse? She might never know, especially since apparently the FBI and SWAT were already at the scene and in place before either woman arrived.
But what would they have done? Waited? Maybe even too long? What if they had surrounded the house and demanded Alena and Rena be released. Would Yenin’s men have killed both women or turned themselves in?
She would never know. She just had to hope something she did had been for the best.
She cringed as the tears kept falling, a sob escaping her mouth just before the hiccups started. Ivan would never see one second of her choices as beneficial to anyone.
Not a chance in hell.
She wasn’t scared of him. Not in the sense that she thought he would hurt her. But s
he did need to brace herself for the lecture of a lifetime.
Or what if it was worse? What if he was so pissed he wanted to break things off with her?
She shuddered. It was possible. He’d made himself clear concerning her safety. He wasn’t just putting on an act. The man was a Dom. He had reiterated over and over that she was to go nowhere without him. And now she’d gone against him completely. A stupid move that could have gotten her killed.
He had every right to be way past pissed. Perhaps he wouldn’t even find it in his heart to forgive her for this stunt. Had she gone too far? Maybe he wouldn’t think he could trust her in the future.
More tears ran down her cheek. I’m such an idiot. If she lost Ivan on top of everything else that happened today…
»»•««
Ivan’s phone rang just as he stepped out of his car at the gym. He smiled as he pulled it from his pocket, hoping to hear Alena’s voice.
The screen said Sergei instead.
“What’s up?”
“Ivan, where are you?”
“Just got to the gym. Aren’t you at work? I thought you started a job this week.”
“Rained all night. Site was closed today. I was just at the gym. Must have missed you by minutes. Listen…”
Ivan stopped next to his car. Something in Sergei’s tone put him on edge.
“Long story, but Belinda got a hostage note this morning. Yenin was holding her cousin Rena. She took off to meet his goons while Taylor wasn’t looking.”
“Fuck.” Ivan slammed his hand down hard on the hood of his car. “Nik know this?”
“Yes. I’m with him now. SWAT swarmed Belinda’s cousin’s townhouse. Two of Anton’s cronies were killed. Belinda wasn’t injured. Her cousin was taken to the hospital unconscious.”
“Dammit. Where’s Belinda now?”
“Safe house.”
“And Nikolav allowed that?” He tipped his head to the ground, knowing he needed to get in his car and start driving, but he had yet to determine where to go.
“She didn’t give him a choice. Took off with an agent and left him standing on Rena’s front lawn.”
“Jesus.”
“Yeah. And Ivan?”
“What else?” There was more. He could hear it in Sergei’s voice.
“Alena followed Belinda.”
Ivan’s breath caught in is throat. No. Oh, God. No. His vision blurred, and he grew light-headed, so he leaned over the side of the car, supporting himself with his forearm. He was not going to like whatever Sergei said next.
“She got shot in the leg. The paramedics said it wasn’t bad. Just a flesh wound. But they took her to the hospital.”
Ivan’s heart stopped beating. He was sure of it. For long moments, the world didn’t spin.
“Ivan?”
He couldn’t hear Sergei properly. It sounded like he was under water or far away in a vacuum. Finally, knowing he needed to pull it together, he shook his head and stood taller, yanking the car door open at the same time. “Heading there now.”
“Okay. I’ll call Mikhail.” The line went dead.
Ivan slid into his car and somehow managed to put the key in the ignition and start the engine. He drove straight to the hospital without knowing how he got there or remembering any moment of the drive. All he knew was he’d driven too fast.
It took Herculean effort to force himself to pull into an actual parking spot instead of skidding up to the emergency room doors and jumping out of the car, leaving it illegally parked.
As he ran toward the sliding doors, he fisted his keys in his palm so hard it hurt.
The waiting room was crowded, but he managed to shove his way to the front desk and get the attention of an older woman behind the counter. “Alena Dudko. Where can I find her?”
The woman glanced at her monitor, wiggled her mouse around, and typed. “D. U. D. K. O?” she spelled.
“Yes. Alena.”
The woman frowned. “Already discharged.”
“What? She was just brought in a bit ago. Gunshot wound.”
“Yes. Released about five minutes ago.”
“To whom? Where did she go?” His body seized with fear. Why had she not called him? Where was she now?
“No idea, sir.” She shook her head apologetically.
Ivan spun around and ran from the waiting room back out into the parking lot. He didn’t stop running until he was back in his car. And then he pulled out his phone and dialed Mikhail.
It rang twice before Alena’s brother picked up. “Hey. Got the news. Also spoke to Leo. He said Alena was taken to a safe house. We’re all heading to the clinic.” He rambled all that so fast, it took Ivan a few seconds to internalize it.
“Okay. Meet you there.”
Chapter Seventeen
“Dayton. What do you want now? If you tell me things are any more fucked up than I’m already aware of, there’s a chance I’ll find you and shoot you in the head myself.”
“You want an update or not? I don’t frankly give a fuck.”
Anton rubbed his forehead. “Give it to me. But be quick about it. I’m in a hurry to clean up this morning’s disaster.”
“You have company.”
“Who?”
“FSB.”
“The Federal Security Service? You telling me they’re in Chicago?”
“Yep. Snooping around, following people, just like the rest of us. They’re usually on Alena Dudko, though.”
“Dudko. Why am I not surprised? And the FBI hasn’t put them in their place and kicked them out of the country yet?” The FBI didn’t normally take kindly to the meddling of the FSB, especially not on US soil. Hell, the CIA wouldn’t put up with them, either.
“They’re working on it. Got calls in. No one realized there was a set of unknown players hanging around.”
“How did they find out?”
“Alena Dudko recognized them.”
“She what?” Anton screamed into the phone. “She fucking knows them?”
“Yes. Apparently she remembers them as the same two guys who kidnapped her in Russia a year and a half ago.”
“Shit.” Anton paced his living room. “What the fuck is the matter with the FSB? Why would they send the same two guys? You think they’re trying to recover her?”
“Seems like a possibility. Either that or they want to find you just as badly as the FBI.”
“Shit,” he repeated. “Great. Thanks for letting me know.” He ended the call and dropped the phone onto the kitchen table as he headed for the fridge. He needed a drink, but considering how the day was going, he would need to be sharp until late that night. A beer was out of the question. He’d have to settle for a bottle of water.
The goddamn FSB. Snooping around Alena Dudko. What did those fuckers know about her? And why had they kidnapped her in Russia to begin with?
Although there was another possible angle Anton couldn’t deny. It was just as likely the FSB was trailing Alena hoping to catch Anton. Dayton could be right about that. If they held her for six months, perhaps they’d been hoping to figure out what Anton was working on through her.
They would have come up blank because she hadn’t received the same injections as the six Russian fighters. But they might not know that. Anton hadn’t known it, either. And he still wouldn’t without Dayton and Millings providing him with inside FBI intel.
If the FSB didn’t know what they were looking for, they would indeed follow Alena in hopes of snagging Anton. Not a doubt. Too bad that was a lost cause. Anton didn’t need Alena any more than he needed a random Vietnamese girl from Seattle. She hadn’t had the shots. She wasn’t part of the study. She was useless.
Unless.
He paused, lifting the water bottle to his mouth but not tipping it yet.
“Fuck me,” he muttered. She could be useful. If she’d had Hep A. And chances were good she had.
Anton currently needed to find some way to get the antibodies for Hep A in his bloodstream. Apparently, t
he drug would only adhere to those specific antibodies. Could he somehow acquire them from the blood of a carrier?
He didn’t know dick about how that might work. He also didn’t have time to contract Hep A the old-fashioned way. And he sure didn’t have time to risk getting sick and wasting valuable days or weeks.
Perhaps a transfusion would work. A huge transfusion. If she had a matching blood type, she could be the answer to his problems.
He needed Hep A, and he needed it from an easy source. If he thought it would be easy to snag one of the fighters and drain their blood to replace his, he would do it in a heartbeat. But those guys were on their game. They carried weapons. They were strong.
Alena? All he needed was to catch her alone. And after her antics today, there was every chance he might get that opportunity sooner rather than later. She’d proven feisty. She’d gone out on her own and taken an enormous risk.
So what if she was taken to a safe house? Even better. That just meant she wasn’t under the watchful eye of Ivan or Mikhail or whoever was her guard this week. Anton was already prepared to raid one safe house tonight. All he needed was the address to Alena’s, and he could arrange for a takeover there next.
A safe house wasn’t really a safe house if someone on the inside was feeding him the addresses.
He smirked, feeling better than he had in hours.
»»•««
Alena waited for hours. Too long. She’d pulled herself together eventually and then dragged herself off the floor. The first thing she needed was a shower, and that meant covering the bandage on her leg.
Luckily she found some plastic wrap in the kitchen and then beelined to the bathroom to strip off her ruined scrubs, wrap the clear plastic around her leg, and then step into the shower.
The water soothed her as she tried to relax. Deep breaths. Warm water. It ran down her head, leaving her hair in long tendrils across her face and shoulders and over her breasts. As if she could wash away the images of the day, she stood there for a long time before reaching for the generic soap and shampoo on the wall and washing herself.
She felt ten times better after the shower and was never happier to find clean clothes waiting for her on the bed. Everything in the apartment was pristine, including the bed. Like a hotel room. The comforter was white and tucked into the sides of the mattress perfectly.
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