Captive Lies

by Victoria Paige

  “You’re looking well,” he said. “I’m sorry for your accommodations.” He gave my room a cursory glance. “But you and Maxim broke my heart. He died in here, you know.” Orlov shrugged. “It took a few days.”

  Papa. I tried not to think of him, but images flashed in my head—of him drinking coffee while I finished my milk, of how he’d look over the edge of his newspaper and chided me to hurry up or I’d be late for school. And now I’d picture him in this dungeon…bloodied, dirty, and dying.

  I knew what Orlov was doing … he was trying to play on my grief and my fear. Even as I tried not to give him that satisfaction, an anguished sob broke through my lips as emotions filled my chest.

  “Just tell me what you want and get it over with,” I choked.

  “The thing that bothered me all these years,” Orlov began. “Was not knowing how my son died.”

  “Didn’t my father tell you?”

  “Maxim told me my son attacked him and he stabbed him in self-defense.”

  “It was self-defense,” I whispered. “You’re blind to the monster your son was.”

  “He took the blame for you, didn’t he?” Malevolence darkened his eyes and his lips curled into a snarl. “You’re the one who killed Yuri.”

  “He was a monster,” I repeated. “He murdered my friend and you had my father cover it up. You sent him away to Moscow for a year hoping he’d change, but how can a sociopath change when the sickness is in his blood? Your blood.”

  He ignored my jab. “He was obsessed with you. If you’d accepted him, none of this would have happened.”

  I laughed without humor. “And here you are still trying to justify his actions. Let me explain to you”—I got to my feet so we were face-to-face—“Yuri tried to rape me! I did what you should have done a long time ago, Mikhail. I put him down.”

  Orlov snapped. I heard his roar just as the back of his hand struck me. I fell back on the bed, but something else hit me. A cane. Mikhail’s preferred method of torture. He hated blood and usually left messy kills for Stefan.

  I curled into a ball and protected my head.

  He cursed in Russian, chanting like a madman, and I cried when he struck my torso. The beating suddenly stopped as I heard Stefan and another man pull him back.

  “We can’t kill her, boss. We need the information and—”

  “I know!” Mikhail shouted. Fingers dug into my hair and he yanked my head so I could look into his eyes. “Where’s the storage unit?”

  “I don’t know,” I whispered. “Ahhh…”

  He pulled at my hair again and gripped my chin hard. “Do not lie to me, suka!”

  “I’m not! We never knew where it was. Papa gave the key to someone else. I swear.”

  He asked me again and again. He hurt me again and again. This went on for several minutes until he was convinced I knew nothing.

  “You’re lucky I’m not allowed to kill you,” He let me go in disgust. “Stefan?”

  In my haze of pain, I registered his strange statement. Why wasn’t he allowed to kill me?

  “Boss?”

  “Make her bleed. Take a picture of her and post it in that chatroom. The one where that traitor Marco will see.”

  Marco had been Liam’s undercover name.

  “Tell him he has twenty-four hours to comply.”

  Mikhail turned and left the room; the three men followed him. I was left with Stefan. Orlov’s second looked at me with regret in his eyes.

  “You don’t have to do this, Stefan,” I pleaded. He wasn’t exactly a friend, but he was more than an acquaintance.

  “Just tell us where it is and the pain will stop,” he said gently.

  Was this why Liam kept quiet about the location of the storage unit? Did he suspect I would break and, when they got what they wanted, they would kill me? Would I have broken by now if I knew?

  “I don’t know,” I mumbled, closing my eyes.

  “I’m so sorry, Paulina,” he said and I believed in the sincerity of his apology. Stefan was a good soldier.

  I let my mind escape my body. I tried to think about happier times with Papa, but my heart only hurt. My thoughts wandered to my happier times with Grant, but all I remembered was the contempt in his voice when he told me to leave. My heart cracked in two. All those condemning eyes closed in around me until I suffocated.

  I coughed and choked.

  My hand came away from my mouth.

  Stefan did as he was told.

  He made me bleed.

  25

  Grant

  Val!

  Grant fought against the tangle of the fishing net. The dark embrace of the turbulent waters stifled his lungs. He broke free and swam to his sister but a burst of white bubbles momentarily blocked his path. His hand pushed through the watery barrier, baffled at the sight of the woman floating in front of him, her face obscured by a mane of chestnut and gold. His fingers dragged away the curtain of hair to expose her face. Blaire’s hazel eyes stared at him, unseeing, and a silent roar clawed up his throat.

  The Gulfstream touched down in a private Miami airfield owned by one of Grant’s business associates. Their plane taxied straight into a hangar. Out the window, he could see Liam standing in front of two Hummers. Grant didn’t waste any time, and, as soon as the pilot gave the go ahead, he was up from his seat and heading toward the exit.

  “Mr. Thorne!” Jake growled after him.

  “See to our cargo,” Grant threw over his shoulder. He heard Jake pass the order to Tyler, but his security lead stuck to him like white on rice. He descended the steps of the plane and saw Liam heading straight for him.

  Aggression was evident in every line of the man’s body. Jake picked up on the hostility and stepped in front of Grant, but he pulled his man back. If there were a score to settle, he’d rather get that over with so they could focus on finding Blaire.

  “Stand down. No matter what,” Grant put a hand in front of Jake’s chest. “I mean it.”

  Jake’s eyes passed briefly over Grant before narrowing at Liam in warning.

  When his bodyguard stood back, Grant turned to Liam who was upon them. Pain exploded at the side of his jaw and he staggered back.

  Grant threw a hand out reminding Jake not to engage.

  “Mr. Thorne,” Jake gritted out.

  He faced Liam again and the man threw a second punch and jarred the other side of his face.

  Grant swore, shook off the pain, and glared at the older man. “That’s all your gonna get until you tell me where Blaire is.”

  “I should kill you,” Liam said hoarsely. His face was contorted in ravaged lines that set off alarms in Grant’s head.

  “Is she alive?” he asked the one question he didn’t want to ask, and yet it was the one question he needed answered.

  Liam nodded with difficulty. “But those fuckers hurt her. Bad.”

  A tide of fury ripped through his body, but Grant reined it in. “As long as she’s alive, nothing else matters.” And that was the truth. Just before their plane landed, he woke up to a nightmare that had shaken him to the core. Grant wasn’t a religious man but he’d found himself bargaining with God. Blaire could return to him a damaged woman … all he wanted was for her to be alive and breathing. If he had the ability to absorb her pain for her he would. He didn’t care if it took a lifetime to make her whole again. He would always stand by her. His face must have shown his determination because Liam’s face softened to a degree.

  “She’s a fighter,” Liam said gruffly and then he turned to Jake. “The contents of the storage unit are in that crate.” He nodded to an eight-by-eight pod beside the Hummer.

  “You had it all along, you son of a bitch,” Grant snarled, getting into the other man’s face.

  “Calm your shit, Thorne,” Liam snarled back. “You don’t know what I sacrificed to get this. While you were busy playing real estate mogul in Manhattan, I had to make decisions whether to let a person live or die. To save Blaire, there was only one choi
ce. If she dies, I’m coming after you.”

  “You’ll have to come through me first,” Jake snapped, this time shoving himself between his boss and Liam.

  “Easy, Donovan,” Grant said grimly. “I’ll face your kind of justice, Watts.”

  Jake turned his head and glared at him. “Respectfully, sir? You’re a pain in the ass to work for.”

  Liam smirked. “I like this guy.”

  Grant exhaled in exasperation. “So what’s the plan? What are we going to do?”

  “Not we. My men and I. You guys stay here. This could get messy, and Blaire will have my ass if I involve you in this shit.”

  “I’m already involved in this fucking shit,” Grant gritted through his teeth. “I go where you go.”

  “Boss …” Jake started, frowning.

  “Have you ever killed anyone, Thorne?” Liam mocked.

  “No, but I’m a pretty good shot,” he returned. “You say it like taking a life is equivalent to a badge of honor.”

  “There’s nothing honorable about taking a life, but if it comes down between them and us, there’s no time to hesitate,” Liam turned his eyes on Jake. “How about you, Donovan, ever killed anyone?”

  Jake’s expression turned to stone. “I don’t talk about it.” Jake Donovan had been a marine in the last Iraq war. Grant was sure he had his kills.

  “See, that right there is a soldier,” Liam approved.

  “Look, are we doing this or not?” Grant snapped. He was getting tired of Liam’s insults and his barbs cut deep. Because of his inexperience in combat, Grant knew he couldn’t take an active part in rescuing his girl, even if he desperately wanted to. They needed the best men for the job. “I want my team to be within striking distance. I’m fully capable of defending myself, so Jake and Tyler can help you if needed.”

  “We’re not leaving you unprotected, Mr. Thorne,” Jake protested.

  “If Liam needs backup, Donovan, you are ordered to help,” Grant declared. He narrowed his eyes when Jake looked ready to argue. “Understood?”

  His head of security’s mouth tightened in a flat line.

  “What’s your specialty, son?” Liam asked.

  “Sniper,” Jake answered.

  “Your skills up to par?”

  Jake stepped back, crossed his arms, and stared at the other man.

  “Guess they are,” Liam muttered. “Okay, here’s the plan.”

  26

  Blaire

  After Stefan took the picture, a woman came in to sponge me down and gave me a change of clothes. She left some kind of porridge and water. I didn’t think Orlov had anything to do with it. My jaw was painful and swollen and I felt a couple of loose teeth. I bled from my nose, but it didn’t feel broken. I wasn’t hungry. I couldn’t even open my mouth, but I was thirsty, so I just drank the water.

  I laid as still as possible and closed my eyes. I hurt less that way.

  I heard the creak of the door and realized I’d fallen asleep. My eyes shot open and the fluorescent light blinded me. My visitor was one of the men who’d accompanied Orlov.

  “Get up,” he ordered. “Marco made contact.”

  He stood motionless while I struggled to get to my side, then I propped my upper body with my elbow. He removed my ankle shackle, and I swung my legs to the floor, tentatively levering myself up to my feet. My body felt liked I’d ran a marathon, and my brain felt like it wanted to burst out of my skull.

  The man whistled. “Let’s see your rich boyfriend want you now. Even I wouldn’t want to fuck you looking at that face.”

  I was thankful speaking hurt, because I would have told this bastard that I wouldn’t fuck his ugly face either. So, with as much dignity as my beaten body could muster, I marched—okay—limped out of that room. I almost cried when I saw how far I had to walk, although I was sure the cavernous hallway intimidated me because every step was an effort. Orlov’s goon got impatient and shoved me ahead. I tried so hard not to stumble, but fell to my knees anyway. I was yanked up and dragged along, so I had no choice but to force my aching limbs to move.

  When we got to the first floor, it was like a meeting in a mafia movie. There were about twelve men; I recognized many of them. Some because they’d worked with my father, and the others because I’d recognized them from the files. They were looking at me with a mixture of satisfaction and anger. Many of them were cracking their knuckles to intimidate me. I didn’t think I could take another beating, but I doubted they’d be merciful and just shoot me.

  One of them approached me. I didn’t remember his name, but I remembered my papa saying he was one of the sadistic ones who liked to torture his victims.

  “You think you’re getting out of this alive, suka?” he sneered. “We’re going to have fun with you. Don’t think that old man can save you. We’ll take him too, if not kill him first, but you…?” His mouth lifted in a cruel smile.

  “Kiril, stop that shit,” Stefan ordered. He walked toward me. “Come on, Paulina, the car is waiting.”

  The others walked ahead of us while Stefan kept pace with me.

  “I don’t get you, Stefan,” I mumbled through my aching jaw. “How could you hurt me and still be nice to me?”

  “I follow orders,” he shrugged. “Don’t imagine any compassion where there isn’t, Paulina. If Orlov orders me to kill you, I will.”

  I flinched at the bluntness of his words, so I shut up and bowed my head. Orlov met us at a Black SUV. He got in first. I was sandwiched between him and Stefan.

  If by some miracle Liam and I got out of this alive, we could start fresh somewhere. I wasn’t sure what he told Orlov, if he was bluffing that he had the physical evidence that could link almost all his top level men to their crimes. I was tired of holding on to Papa’s legacy like an albatross around my neck. If any of the evidence amounted to anything, that was for the FBI and the DOJ to decide. I was done with it. We needed to get far, far away from the mafia so they couldn’t touch us, and far, far away from Grant so I could forget all the heartache.

  My foggy brain didn’t understand why I was gagged until two SUVs of our four-vehicle convoy broke away. I started to panic. We were meeting Liam and they didn’t want me to warn him that there were others in covert positions. Knowing Liam though, he would have prepared for every scenario. I had to trust him.

  I recognized the part of town we were in. It was an industrial area that was quiet on the weekends. I’d accompanied Papa several times when the assassins of the ROC did their business here. I wanted to laugh. If Papa hid the physical evidence right in Orlov’s own backyard, that would be ironic.

  The sign for the self-storage came up and our Suburbans turned into the facility. I wasn’t surprised that Orlov had a keycard to the place. He probably had several units here himself. The SUVs slowed to a crawl, I heard the driver communicating with the other cars, looking for signs of an ambush or if there were any suspicious vehicles around, but so far Orlov had gotten the all-clear. After a couple of right and left turns, my heart leapt to my throat as I spotted my friend.

  He was standing nonchalantly against one of the units. Liam was wearing a white tee with a Kevlar vest and khaki military cargos. I was sure he was armed, but no apparent weapon was in sight. Orlov stiffened beside me as he and Stefan gripped their guns.

  “Marco has a lot of balls,” Orlov muttered.

  “You should’ve stayed at the mansion, boss, and let me handle this,” Stefan said.

  “The men are restless. They need to see that I’m not merely a figurehead,” he replied. Translation: Orlov was having trouble maintaining the loyalty of his men.

  Our now two-vehicle convoy stopped a few feet from Liam and both turned off the engines.

  “I’m not opening the gate until I see Blaire,” Liam called out without moving a muscle.

  “I have her. You stay in the car,” Stefan told Orlov.

  Stefan opened the door and pulled me from the vehicle. A flash of fury crossed Liam’s face, but he quickly mas
ked it.

  “You shouldn’t have hurt her,” my friend said softly.

  I cut my head to the side and brought it back center. Liam tensed. It was our signal that all was not what it seemed.

  “Open the gate,” Stefan ordered.

  “Before I do,” Liam said conversationally. “I’d like to point out that there’s a grenade launcher aimed straight at your vehicle. Orlov’s side actually.”

  “You’re bluffing,” Stefan replied. “We’ll all be dead.”

  “If you’re going to kill me, why would it matter?”

  “You don’t want Paulina to die.”

  “If I’m dead, you think I’ll leave her alive for you motherfuckers to torture?” Liam looked at me. “Would you want to live, Blaire, if these assholes kill me?”

  I shook my head. Liam was a crafty mind manipulator. Kudos to him. There was nothing scarier than someone with nothing to lose.

  Orlov slammed out of the vehicle with a gun pointed at Liam. “Open the motherfucking gate!” he shouted. His men in the other vehicles exited as well with guns drawn. Including the drivers, it was ten against one.

  Liam was nuts.

  “Now, is this a fair fight?” Liam asked. To his credit, he brought out a card and swiped the slot beside a keypad. The device prompted for a code and my friend punched it in. He bent forward and shoved the gate up. Orlov’s men fidgeted from side-to-side with their eyes darting around the area.

  When the gate fully opened, the lights came on automatically. Orlov stepped in with one of his men, while the other one kept his gun trained on Liam.

  Stefan’s grip tightened around me.

  Boxes were shoved around.

  “What the hell is this?” Orlov roared.

  “Now!” Liam shouted.

  I stomped Stefan’s foot and shoved my head up to his chin. Gunfire erupted amidst another gate rolling up. Stefan grunted, his arms slackening around me as I surged toward Liam who tossed me a gun. I caught the weapon and fell on my back, unloading the cartridges at Orlov’s goons advancing on us. They were trying to get to their boss who had taken refuge in the first storage unit.