Bind Me (Capture Me #2)

by Anna Zaires

  “Yulia.” I come after her, her pain cutting me like a blade, but she turns away to face the window as I approach. I lift my hand to lay it on her shoulder, but change my mind at the last moment. There’s nothing I can do to make her feel better, except the one thing I’m not willing to promise.

  I want this Misha dead, and I won’t let her manipulate me into sparing his life.

  Lowering my hand, I step back and survey Yulia’s rigid figure. My captive is even more gorgeous than usual today, her short white dress making her look innocently sexy. With her hair streaming down her back in a sleek waterfall, she’s temptation personified—and I know it’s on purpose.

  Like everything else Yulia has done over the last couple of days, her dressing up today is an attempt to save her lover.

  The thought fills me with bitter anger. Turning away, I pack up the remainder of the meal and wash the dishes, using the time to cool down. Yulia doesn’t move from her spot by the window, and when I approach, I see she’s still deathly pale, her gaze distant and unseeing.

  Steeling myself against an irrational urge to console her, I reach out to take her arm. “Let’s go. ” My voice is quiet. “I have to tie you up.”

  And holding her arm tightly, I lead Yulia to the library.

  * * *

  She doesn’t say a word as I secure her in the armchair, making sure the ropes don’t cut into her skin. When I’m done, I step back and look at her. “Which book do you want?”

  She doesn’t respond, her gaze trained on her lap.

  “Yulia. I asked you a fucking question.”

  She glances up, her eyes dulled with pain.

  “What do you want to read?” I repeat, trying not to let her obvious distress get to me. “Which book?”

  She looks away, but not before I catch a glimmer of moisture in her eyes.

  Fuck.

  “All right, suit yourself.” I grab a random thriller off the shelves and place it on her lap. “I’ll be back before dinner.”

  Yulia doesn’t acknowledge my words in any way, and I leave before the fury simmering inside me boils over.

  24

  Yulia

  I don’t give a fuck about his guilt or innocence. It’s out of my hands. If you weren’t such a hot lay…

  Lucas’s words echo in my mind, replaying on a sickening loop over and over again. He had been so cold, so cruel. It was as if the last two weeks had never happened, as if our time together meant nothing to him.

  My heart feels sliced into ribbons, the pain so vast it smothers me. I take in shallow breaths, trying to cope with the agony, but it just seems to grow and expand, sinking deeper into my chest.

  I failed. I failed my brother. Everything I’ve done from the moment Obenko approached me at the orphanage has been for Misha, and now it will all be for nothing.

  The man on whom I pinned my last hopes is a merciless monster, and I’m a gullible fool.

  Don’t humiliate yourself. It’s not going to work.

  Somehow Lucas knew about my brother. He knew I was going to ask him to spare Misha’s life. He knew I was trying to soften him up all these days, and he let me.

  He took everything I had to give, and then he drove a knife straight into my heart.

  A bitter bubble of laughter escapes me as I think of the genius of his sadistic plan. I have to admit, Lucas Kent’s idea of vengeance is exquisite. No physical torture would’ve hurt as much as his blunt refusal to save my brother.

  My laughter turns into a sob, and I gulp it down, choking off the sound. Even to my own ears, I sound mad, hysterical. The agency therapist had been right. I’m not cut out for this job. I’m not like Lucas or Obenko.

  I don’t have what it takes to remain sufficiently detached.

  “Your loyalty to your brother is admirable, but it’s also your biggest weakness,” Obenko told me a couple of months into my training. “You cling to Misha because he’s a part of your past, but you can’t have a past anymore. You can’t have a family. You need to come to terms with that, or you won’t be able to cope with this life. There will be times when you’ll need to get close to people without letting them get close to you. You’ll need to be in control of your emotions. Do you think you’re capable of that?”

  “Of course I am,” I answered quickly, fearing he’d kick me out of the program and place my brother back in the orphanage. “Just because I love Misha doesn’t mean I’d get attached to anyone else.”

  And I worked hard to prove that. I was friendly with the other trainees, but I didn’t become friends with any of them. Same thing with the instructors. I kept my emotional distance from all of them. Even after the incident with Kirill, I did my best to deal with the trauma on my own.

  I was such a good, diligent trainee that Obenko gave me the Moscow assignment less than a year after Kirill’s assault.

  Another sobbing laugh rises in my throat. I swallow the hysterical sound, but I can’t control the tears that spill down my cheeks. I thought I was good at what I did. I smiled and flirted with my assigned lovers, but I never fell for them. Even with Vladimir, who taught me about sexual pleasure, I remained cool and detached. No one mattered to me except my brother.

  No one until Lucas.

  In my effort to get close to my captor, I opened myself up too much. I lost control of my emotions. I let a ruthless, treacherous man get close to me, and he used that closeness to devise the cruelest of all punishments.

  He figured out the best way to destroy me.

  25

  Lucas

  I have a shitload to do before we depart tomorrow morning, but I go to the gym because I can’t focus on anything, my thoughts occupied by Yulia and the agony in her gaze.

  As I pummel the sandbag, I try to push away images of her sitting there, so distant and wounded. She looked at me like I betrayed her—like I hurt her beyond belief.

  The bag sways from side to side as I ram my fists into it, landing one hard blow after another. The idea of her feeling betrayed by me makes me want to beat someone to a pulp. What the fuck did she expect? That she’d give me a couple of blow jobs and I’d happily save her lover? That I wouldn’t question her desire to spare this Misha’s life?

  An innocent, she called him, as if that would matter to me. As far as I’m concerned, the man deserves to die for nothing more than touching her. Add to that his being part of UUR, and he’ll be lucky if I kill him quickly.

  “Lucas. Hey, man. Are you almost done?”

  Diego’s question interrupts my mindless punching spree. Wiping sweat from my forehead, I turn to see the young Mexican standing there, his gloves already prepped. Behind him are a couple more guards waiting their turn.

  Judging by the looks on their faces and the soreness in my knuckles, I must’ve been working off my anger for quite some time.

  “It’s all yours,” I say, forcing myself to step away from the sandbag. “Go ahead.”

  As I leave the gym, I debate going back to my house to take a shower, but I’m not calm enough to face Yulia yet. So instead, I make my way to Esguerra’s mansion to use the shower by the pool. He keeps a stash of T-shirts there in case of any unexpected bloody business, and I grab one of them to change into when I’m clean.

  I rinse quickly, and as I’m pulling on my shorts and a fresh T-shirt, I catch a glimpse of a familiar dark-haired figure hurrying into the house.

  Rosa.

  I’d all but forgotten about the maid. She must’ve taken my words to heart, as I haven’t seen her since our talk in Esguerra’s kitchen. Hopefully, I didn’t hurt the girl too badly, but it couldn’t be helped. I didn’t want her lurking anywhere near Yulia.

  Feeling marginally calmer after my hard workout, I head to Esguerra’s office for a call with the Israeli intelligence agency.

  * * *

  We spend the next two hours talking with the Mossad about the recent developments in Syria and the rest of the Middle East. As the call wraps up, I consider telling Esguerra what I’ve uncovered a
bout UUR so far, but decide it’s not the right time. I’ll speak to him about Yulia and her agency when we return from Chicago. By then, I should have more concrete information, as the hackers are finally having some success sifting through the coded data in the Ukrainian government’s files.

  After the call is done, Esguerra and I go over last-minute logistics for tomorrow’s trip.

  “When we land, we’re going to go straight to Nora’s parents’ house,” Esguerra says. “They want to see her right away, even if it means a late dinner.”

  I’m long past wondering about the insanity of this trip, so I just say, “All right. I’ll be with the guard detail tomorrow night to make sure everyone knows what they’re doing.”

  “Good.” Esguerra pauses for a second. “You know Rosa is coming with us, right?”

  I actually didn’t know that. “She is? Why?”

  “Nora wants her company.”

  “Okay.” I don’t see how that changes anything. Unless… “Do I need to bring extra men to look out for her, or will she be with you and Nora most of the time?”

  “She’ll be with us.” Esguerra seems vaguely amused. “All right, then, sounds like we’re all set. I’ll see you on the plane tomorrow.”

  “See you,” I say, and head over to the guards’ barracks for my meeting with Diego and Eduardo—the two guards I’m appointing as Yulia’s jailers in my absence.

  * * *

  “Walk me through it again,” I tell Eduardo after I give him and Diego the full list of instructions concerning my captive. “How many times will you visit my house to let her use the bathroom and stretch her legs?”

  The Colombian rolls his eyes. “Three times in addition to releasing her during meals. We got it, Kent, I promise.”

  “And what will you do if she attempts to escape?”

  “We’ll restrain her, but not harm her in any way,” Diego says, his lips twitching with amusement. “You’ve got to chill out, man. We understand. We’re not going to touch a hair on her head other than to make sure she doesn’t go anywhere. She’s going to have her books, her TV shows, and yes, I’ll take her out for a walk once a day.”

  “And we’ll keep our mouths shut about the whole thing,” Eduardo adds, parroting my exact words. “Nobody will hear a peep about your spy princess from us.”

  “Good.” I give them a hard look. “And food?”

  “We’ll bring her products from the main house and let her cook them,” Diego says, openly grinning now. “She’ll be the most well-fed, well-entertained prisoner in existence.”

  I ignore his ribbing. “And at night?”

  “I will shackle her wrist to the metal post you installed by the bed,” Eduardo says. “And I will not lay a hand on her. It’ll be as if she’s a sack of potatoes—but a really important one,” he adds quickly when my hand tightens into a fist. “Seriously, Kent, I’m just kidding. We’re going to take good care of your girl, I promise. You know you can trust us.”

  I do know that. That’s why I chose them for this task. Both guards have been working here for the past two years, and they’ve proven their loyalty. They might find my orders amusing, but they’ll do as I say.

  Yulia will be safe with them.

  “Okay,” I say, nodding at them. “In that case, I will see you both tomorrow morning. Be at my house at nine sharp.”

  And leaving the guards’ barracks, I go to the training field to check on our new recruits.

  26

  Yulia

  I don’t know how much time passes before I get my tears under control, but by the time I open the book Lucas left for me, the sun is already setting outside. I stare at the words on the open page, but the text fades in and out, the letters jumbling together in front of my swollen eyes.

  I failed my brother. Because of me, he’s going to be killed.

  I attempt to focus on the book, to push the devastating knowledge away, but it’s all I can think about. Old memories press in, and I close my eyes, too tired to fight them off.

  “Please watch your brother,” my mother implores, her blue gaze filled with worry. “Check on him before you go to sleep, all right? He seemed a little feverish earlier, so if his forehead feels unusually warm, call us, all right? And don’t open the door for anyone you don’t recognize.”

  “I won’t, Mom. I know what to do.” I might be ten, but it’s not the first time I’ve stayed alone with Misha while my parents rushed to my grandfather’s sickbed. “I’ll take good care of him, I promise.”

  Mom kisses me on the forehead, her floral perfume teasing my nostrils. “I know you will,” she murmurs, stepping back. “You’re my wonderful grown-up girl.” Her face is tense with stress, but the smile she directs at me is full of warmth. “We’ll be back as soon as your grandfather stabilizes a bit.”

  “I know, Mom.” I smile back at her, unaware that my life is about to change forever. “Go to Grandpa. I’ll watch over Misha, I promise.”

  And I tried to do exactly that. When the policemen came to our apartment the next morning, I didn’t let them in until they showed me pictures of my parents’ bodies in the morgue, broken and bloodied from the car crash. I insisted that my brother stay with me when Child Services tried to separate us, claiming that a two-year-old shouldn’t attend his parents’ funeral. And when Vasiliy Obenko approached me at the orphanage a year later, offering to have his sister and her husband adopt Misha if I joined his agency, I didn’t hesitate.

  I told the Head of UUR I’d do anything if he gave my brother a normal, happy life.

  Opening my eyes, I try to focus on the book again, but at that moment, a flash of movement in my peripheral vision catches my attention. Startled, I look up and see a dark-haired woman standing in the middle of Lucas’s library.

  Rosa, I realize, my pulse jumping.

  “What are you doing here? How did you get in?” I can’t hide the undertone of panic in my voice. My hands are handcuffed, and I’m bound to the chair with a thick layer of ropes. If she means to harm me, I can’t stop her.

  Rosa holds up a key ring. “In the main house, we have a spare key for every building in this compound, private houses included.”

  I don’t see any weapons on her, which is somewhat reassuring. “Okay, but why are you here?” I ask in a calmer tone.

  “I wanted to see you,” she says. “Tomorrow, we’re leaving for two weeks. Going to Chicago to visit Nora’s family.”

  “Nora’s family?”

  “Señor Esguerra’s wife,” Rosa clarifies.

  I frown in confusion. I now recall that Nora is the name of the American girl Esguerra kidnapped and married. Lucas didn’t tell me the reason for his upcoming trip, but I assumed it was business-related. I had no idea Lucas’s sadistic boss has any kind of relationship with his in-laws.

  “Anyways,” Rosa continues, “I wanted to see you in person before I left.”

  My confusion intensifies. “Why?”

  Rosa steps closer. “Because I don’t think you belong here.” Her hands are locked together in front of her black dress. “Because this isn’t right.”

  “What isn’t right?” Does she want me strung up in some torture shed like she’d implied before?

  “You. This whole thing.” Her brown eyes regard me steadily. “It’s wrong that Lucas has you here like this. That he’s leaving you with Diego and Eduardo. They’re good guys, both of them. They like to play poker.”

  “Poker?” I’m completely lost.

  Rosa nods. “They play with the guards on North Tower Two. Every Thursday afternoon from two to six.”

  “They do?” My heartbeat kicks up again. Is Rosa telling me what I think she’s telling me?

  “Yes,” she says evenly. “It’s not a problem because the drones patrol the perimeter around the estate, and there are heat and motion sensors everywhere. Anything approaching the border of the estate, no matter how small or big, gets scanned and examined by our security software, and the guards get alerted if the computer thinks
there’s a problem.”

  My pulse is now a frantic drumbeat. “I see.” Anything approaching, she said. That means the computer disregards things heading in the other direction. “How far is the northern border of the estate from here?”

  Rosa hesitates, and I kick myself for being too blunt. She clearly wants to pretend she’s just chatting with me, and whatever information I glean is something she’s giving by accident.

  “Two and a half miles,” she finally says, and I exhale in relief. I didn’t scare her off after all. “There’s a river that marks that border,” she continues, dropping all pretense. “Farther to the west, a small road crosses the river. It goes all the way north to Miraflores. Occasionally, we get some deliveries via that route.” She pauses, then adds, “The next delivery is scheduled for Thursday at three p.m.”

  “Thursday at three,” I repeat, hardly able to believe my luck. “As in, this Thursday afternoon. The day after tomorrow.”

  She nods. “We’re getting some food items brought in.”

  “Okay.” My mind is racing, sifting through the potential obstacles. “What about—”

  “I have to go now,” Rosa says, stepping even closer. “Lucas will be home soon.” She brushes her fingers over the book I’m holding, and her hand touches mine for a second. “Bye, Yulia,” she says quietly before turning and hurrying out of the room.

  Stunned, I look down and see two small objects on top of my book.

  A razor blade and a hairpin.

  27

  Lucas

  It’s after eight by the time I get home. To my relief, Yulia is calmly reading in her armchair when I step into the library.

  “Sorry it took so long,” I say, approaching the chair to untie her. “You must be starved—not to mention, needing the restroom.”