I almost gasp at the beauty staring back at me. The photo was taken from afar, but our photographer is good and it looks as though he is just mere inches from her round face. I can see her golden skin with light freckles on her nose, her sun-streaked blonde hair, and her golden eyes staring into my soul, seeing all of the black I try to hide inside.
The next photo is one of her on the beach with her girlfriends. Though her face is young and still round like that of a child, her body is anything but childish. Her breasts are large for her frame and firm looking; her waist small, her stomach flat, and her hips curved. I bite my lip at the plumpness of her perfect ass.
“You touch her before you bring her here, I will cut your balls off, and then your head,” I bark. I want this one; this girl is mine.
Perhaps this will be the end of this group. I will take this girl and be done; disassemble the group and officially take over, change it for the good, or for what I feel is the good.
“Why?”
“It is not your rank to question me, Boris. She is mine,” I bellow angrily.
Boris rolls his eyes and snatches the file back, grumbling something about me being a greedy bastard.
I put my plan in motion. It is time. I will save the ten women we have here plus my new acquisition. The pretty blonde will be mine. She calls to me. I must have her.
I am a bastard; I never said that I wasn’t.
I will save these girls, but the pretty young blonde will not be saved.
HALEIGH HAS BEEN GONE from my side a full twenty-four hours and nobody can find her. My men are working hard, yet they have found nothing. Pasha and Dimitri are both completely baffled, but I know the men who took her are good. This is what they do, and this is how they operate.
I haven’t slept in almost forty-eight hours, and if I don’t get some sleep soon, I’m not going to be able to function to find my wife. I rifle through the medicine cabinet and see Haleigh’s sleeping pills. I grip them in my hand squeezing the bottle and closing my eyes, remembering how stupidly angry I became with her for taking them. I have fucked up a lot with her. I regret every hurtful thing I have ever done. I hope I can be a better man for her; I hope that I can be a rational man for her when she returns.
Once I have taken the pills, I lie down and quickly doze off to sleep.
“Ma,” I cry out as a hand wraps around my throat from behind.
I look over to see Maryia crying on the dirty floor. My mother is sitting at the dining room table on the one chair we have left. Tears are streaming down her face as she sobs and reaches out for me. I am too far away from her.
“You are nothing but a dirty, drugged-out whore. You knew this would happen. How kind of you to provide the cause with a new pussy and a new soldier,” the man behind me sneers.
“Please, don’t take them. They are too young,” my mother screams as she runs toward Maryia, but the man behind me slaps her on the face causing her to fall to the ground. She is skinny and frail — my mother.
“That pussy will be perfect in a few years, and I cannot trust that you and your piece of shit husband will keep it pure. Nobody wants to fuck used up pussy. You should know that.” He laughs, and it is cruel.
“Vasily,” my papa says as he walks through the door.
“Son,” the man behind me says to my papa.
Son… he called my papa son… that must mean that this man is my grandfather.
“Let my family go,” my papa says, but he doesn’t sound strong; he sounds weak and scared.
“You stupid cunt. You let them go the day you signed them over to me, before they were conceived. It’s over Nikolay. You got the pussy you wanted, and I get the soldier and pussy I want.” He laughs and it sounds cruel.
“No, this is not over,” my father yells, and a second later, I watch him fall to the ground. A pool of blood around his head. My mother screams and runs over to him wrapping her arms around him before she turns to the man behind me.
“You bastard,” she screams before her body slumps over his.
“I should have done that years ago. Feels good to get rid of filth,” the man says and turns me around to face him. My eyes focus on my sister, my Maryia, who is being held by a giant man in a fancy suit.
“You go to the boy’s orphanage. Your sister will be taken care of until it is her time to earn her keep. I will send a man to take you when your time comes as well.” I gulp and nod facing him again.
“Are you my grandfather?” I ask, my voice shaking.
“Technically, yes but your blood is cursed by your father’s and that whore who pushed you through her tainted cunt. You’re worthless to me as a person, but you will be strong and you will fight for me—or I will kill you.”
My body jolts awake, and I sit straight up with sweat pouring down my face. I haven’t had a dream about that night in years.
I close my eyes, willing myself to remember that the past is over. Is it, though? Or is it simply repeating itself?
I haven’t slept in six days. I can’t. I stare at the wall and wait for Gregori to come in and fuck me. I know it isn’t making love, even if Gregori is much gentler than Maxim ever was. I can see it in his eyes. Gregori cares for me as a friend, possibly.
But when Maxim looks at me, his feelings ooze from him, I understand that now. He cared for me; perhaps it wasn’t love, but I now know he felt for me, and Gregori does not. I was just too blind to see that he felt for me more than he verbally shared. He will probably never want me again because another man has been inside of me. He loved that I was truly only his, and now, I am dirty and tainted. And the worst part? I have come every time with Gregori.
“It is time,” Gregori whispers. I roll over to see him standing at the side of my bed. He is dressed, so I’m not sure what he’s referring to.
“Time?” I ask.
“To leave, Haleigh. I have made my move and it is time,” he says with a smile. I cannot share in his joy, not when I know I am going to go home to nobody, to nothing. I know that Maxim will not want me.
I nod and nimbly rise from the dirty bed, barefoot and barely dressed. I walk toward Gregori; right before I reach his outstretch hand, I freeze.
“I can’t go back to him. Please, don’t take me back,” I beg as the tears leave my eyes, streaking my face.
“He has been searching for you. Come now, we go.”
“Maxim will not want me now,” I whisper. Gregori’s eyes close as he takes in a breath.
“He loves you, milaya moya. He will welcome you back with open arms,” he mutters, almost pained. I shake my head.
“No, send me anywhere else,” I beg.
Gregori nods and agrees. He says that he will fly me to Florida and give me some money to get settled.
I choose to believe him, even if it is probably stupid of me to do so. I choose it because the thought of staying in that room for another minute makes me want to scream and act violently. I take his outstretched hand. He pulls me up to an old wooden staircase and through a dirty old house toward a waiting black SUV.
Inside are six girls in various stages of undress, thinness, and cleanliness. I sit down next to a girl who looks around eighteen and she smiles at me just slightly, her golden blonde hair clean, as well as her clothing. She looks to be in the best shape out of the seven of us girls. Gregori slides into the driver’s seat of the car but doesn’t go anywhere.
“Watch this, girls,” he murmurs. I watch him punch a few buttons on his phone and then the house explodes, fire and debris everywhere.
Gregori smiles and turns to us. He looks evil at that moment. Maniacal. For the first time, I am terrified of him.
“Boris and those other assholes were in your cells. I planted the bombs in the cells with them and you’re free now. I will take each of you to a safe house and the people guarding you will be informed when you will be truly free to go.”
Most of the girls gush and thank him, so happy to be free of their sexual services. Most girls, except the pretty young bl
onde sitting next to me and myself.
I want Maxim, but he will not want me and that makes me sick.
One by one, we are driven to houses and each girl is dropped off. Gregori informs us that these are not the only girls he has saved. He sounds so valiant until you remember he is one of them. He took girls and their babies. Fucked girls against their will—fucked me.
Gregori is not innocent; he is as much a part of this problem as the men in charge. Once the car is empty, save for the little blonde, Gregori, and me, I decide to talk to him.
“So you have saved us. Did you kill the men who are in charge?” I ask. Gregori tenses at my words, and I take that to be a negative.
“They will only come after them again and me. My husband promised him this debt as a child, right? It doesn’t sound like these men, whoever they are, will back down or let him get away without repayment. I am not safe, am I? Even if Maxim takes me back after what has happened to my body, I will always be a sitting duck waiting for them to take me again and do more to me.”
“I will take care of it, milaya moya, no worries,” he promises.
I shake my head, looking out the window as the familiar surroundings of Maxim’s property envelops me.
Lies.
“You will let me know when it is safe to sleep soundly again? You will let me know that when I deliver this baby I will be able to keep it? That I won’t have to worry about it being taken from the cradle as I sleep in the next room? Please, Gregori, after everything, I need to know that even if I don’t survive this life, my baby will be free of this bullshit,” I almost growl. Gregori turns to me wide-eyed. I never cuss, even when he was fucking me against my will, I just took it.
I always just take it.
“Be safe,” the little blonde whispers before Gregori says another word.
I see something shining inside of her, a light of innocence, and I hope she can keep it. Mine burned out a while ago. I wish I could get it back and hold onto it for just a moment longer.
“You, too,” I say. She nods as the door opens.
Gregori is standing there, his body tight. I walk barefooted up the steps of what was once my home. Will it ever be again? Will I be able to live here after Gregori has tainted me?
Dimitri pulls the door open as soon as Gregori knocks and he looks from Gregori to me and then down at my lack of clothing and growls. I hear footsteps from inside on the hard stone flooring and my breath is stolen from my body. My once beautiful husband is standing in shock at the door, his eyes wide. He looks so much thinner with dark circles under his eyes; his hair longer and messy; his face covered with a beard; his normally perfect suit, rumpled and dirty.
“Golubushka,” he whispers before he falls to his knees at my feet and sobs.
My big, beautiful, strong husband cries at my feet, and it makes me sick. I make me sick. I let another man inside of my body while my husband worried about me, and I didn’t fight it. I am worthless.
“Go to him,” Gregori whispers. I don’t move. I can’t. I am rooted to the spot, my body shaking. Suddenly, my husband lifts me and takes me into the house.
“Find out everything,” I hear him whisper to Dimitri before he takes me up to our bedroom. Ours—I am home.
“Are you hurt? Do I need to call you a doctor?” My hands fly to my stomach and, for the first time, I am relaxed enough to truly worry over the health of my baby.
“I am not hurt, but I will need an OB/GYN, Maxim.” He nods as he lays me down on the bed, his lips touching my neck.
“Were you violated, Haleigh? Do not be scared to tell me. I kill them for taking you. I torture them for violating you.” My eyes clash with his blue ones, and I know I must tell him as much as I can, but I do not think I can ever tell him everything. It would kill him.
“I was, Maxim. I am so very sorry,” I cry, my body shaking as the world crashes down around me.
Was I violated? I accepted Gregori into my body; he brought me to climax so does that mean that I was violated? I don’t know. I hate myself, at this moment; answering this question makes me hate myself. Gregori was trying to save me, but he made me come and I even enjoyed his body lying with mine. I am disgusting.
“Sorry, in this case, is weak, golubushka. You are strong. You survived and you did what had to be done, what was forced to be done to you. I do not hold it against you and I never will.” His words are beautiful for him, but if he knew I liked it when Gregori fucked me, if he knew I came—he would hate me.
“I am pregnant, Maxim. I need to make sure the baby is okay. They drugged me a few times, and I don’t think I ate enough while I was there.” My words take a moment to sink in and then he looks at me with concern and maybe a bit of happiness.
“My baby?” he asks. I hate, I hate, that he has to even ask. I nod, wanting to punch him in the face for even asking, but it isn’t his fault at all.
“I call the doctor. You go and take a bath.” He is all business, and I follow his directions. By the time I am out of the bathroom, a doctor has arrived and is waiting for me.
“I stay here for the exam,” Maxim barks.
I nod, walking over to the bed. I have been poked, prodded, and fucked by another man. If Maxim wants to be in the room for this exam, I am past being shy at this point.
The doctor is nice, a kind gentleman, and I spread my legs as he examines me. All of me.
“You have had some sexual intercourse, but whoever it was, they were gentle enough. No scaring, no tearing. You look good,” he offers.
I nod once, screwing my eyes tightly, trying not to think about the way Gregori gently fucked me several times a day—every day. I try not to think about how his touch made me feel, how I yearned for it and waited for it toward the end—even felt as though I wanted it.
A whoosh, whoosh sound suddenly fills the room, and I pop my eyes back open. I look over to the tiny little screen the doctor is holding.
“This is your baby. Not much yet, about ten weeks, but here it is. That sound you hear is the heartbeat. Everything looks good. Make sure to drink plenty of fluids and eat healthy foods. See your regular physician as soon as possible, but everything looks really great.” He offers me a sad smile.
I thank the doctor before he leaves the room.
I face Maxim and realize he has been silent the entire time. His face focuses on me, but his eyes are unfocused.
“Maxim,” I whisper, wrapping the robe around myself tightly. Maxim’s eyes are dark and his face hard as granite; he is angry and his anger is aimed at me.
“The man who fucked you was gentle, no? He did not hurt you and you did not fight him?” he asks. I nod, knowing exactly where this is going.
“You told me you understood, that I was trying to survive,” I murmur trying to keep my tears at bay.
“Survive, yes, but I expect a man would force himself on my wife, she would fucking fight. Are you not a Lasovska?” he roars.
I want to answer; I want to scream and yell at him—tell him I had no choice but to accept my fate—a fate that was entirely his fault and not mine, but I don’t. I can’t because he is right. I liked it when Gregori touched me. I think after being alone in that room, in the dark, I would have even possibly accepted Boris’ touch. I was so terrified I would die, that my baby would die. I gave up — I gave up, and now, my husband is hurting because of my weakness.
“I was not born a Lasovska, Maxim. I was trying to survive.” I begin to cry—sob, really.
“You are not good enough to be a Lasovska. You are blyad,” he roars. I jerk back as though he has physically assaulted me.
“I am only a whore because that is what you made me, Maxim. You bought me, or bartered for me, or whatever sick deal you had with my family. You knew that as soon as we were married, I would be taken by that group and my child would be ripped from my body, trained to fight, or be sold as a whore.
“You knew they would whore me out until I was of no use to them. You knew all of this and I did not. You made me a whore,
Maxim. That is on you, not on me. You fuck me at your friend’s house, where all your co-workers can hear, and then you are shocked that I am taken the next day and whored out? I am naïve, Maxim, but I am not stupid. This whole scenario is on you, not me.
“But if you really want to know the truth, yes, I liked it. It felt wrong because it wasn’t you, but he was gentle and he made me come. I’m sorry if that is not what you want to hear, but it is the truth. I am only the whore you made me to be,” I scream.
I am crying, full-on screaming, not caring if anybody or everybody can hear me. There are no secrets any longer. I am a whore. I am a disaster, and I didn’t even realize that Dimitri had been witness to the entire scene.
Maxim reaches back and backhands me. My face flies to the side, and I feel like it is about to explode when Dimitri holds his gun to Maxim’s temple.
“You hit your pregnant wife again, I kill you, Maxim.” Maxim turns to Dimitri and sneers.
“Of course, one whore sticks up for the other around here,” he spits out. Then he is gone, leaving Dimitri and me alone. Dimitri wraps me in his arms, a shocking gentle and out of character move for him, but I accept it.
“You will be all right, and he will come around. Now you know. You and I, we are not so different, little one,” he whispers, kissing the top of my hair.
“I didn’t want to like it, Dimitri. You have to believe me,” I say between sobs.
“I never wanted to like it either, Haleigh, but at times I did. I liked it very much. I felt so dirty afterward, so wrong. I was a whore in Moscow. My mother was a, what you call, madam, here. She pimped me out at a young age, so I understand the feelings. You are ashamed, but at the moment, when it feels so good, it is hard to feel that shame. You feel like you are on a high,” he confesses.
I know exactly what he is referring to. I cry a bit harder for the child that Dimitri was. How many countless people used him for money, and to know his mother pushed him into it? I cry for Dimitri and I cry for myself, feeling sorry for myself all over again. There is no winner in this situation.
Owned by the Badman (Russian Bratva Book 1) Page 13