by LK Shaw
I ran back to the car as I hung up the phone and sped off toward my house. It was time to bring out the big guns.
Once inside my house, I flung open my closet door and pulled down my locked gun case from the top shelf. I had no idea what I would be heading into, if I was even going in the right direction. But like I’d told Connor, I couldn’t just sit around and wait. I had no idea how long it would take Josie to get a hit on something and I needed to do something.
Even if that something was going on a wild goose chase. But it was better than doing nothing at all. Once I’d grabbed what I thought I needed, I hit the road again, this time heading to Patterson Island. There was a single road that led to it.
Most of the houses that graced the island were currently empty since tourist season had recently ended. There were a few locals who resided there year-round, but chances were it would be pretty deserted right now. Shannon’s parents owned one of the beach houses and we’d spent a couple weeks out there last summer. As I sped down the road, my phone rang.
“You better have news for me,” I demanded when I answered.
“She’s there. On the island. Josie got a hit on surveillance footage. She traced the license plate to a corporation who just happens to rent the property on the island. I’ve called Crocker and Morgan. They’re in D.C., but they’re on their way. It’ll be hours before they get here though. They made me promise to keep him alive.” There was a hint of disdain in Connor’s voice.
“I didn’t make any such promise. If he’s hurt Phebe in any way, he’s a dead man. Hell, he may be dead anyway. He killed Roger, Connor,” I snapped, reminding him of his friend.
“Fuck you, Donovan. I know he did, but there are more players here than just Dragomirov. He could lead to even bigger fish if they catch him alive,” Connor growled.
I didn't give a shit about bigger fish. The only person I cared about was Phebe. “Well, I guess you better get there before I do.”
With my ominous words, I disconnected the phone call. My foot slammed on the gas pedal and the car shot forward, each second getting closer to the woman I loved.
Phebe
After Vlad left, I flung open the windows because I couldn’t get enough air. I was suffocating. I’d tried the opening the French doors earlier, but they were locked. The only way to even leave that way was to break the glass. Not only would the noise bring unwanted visitors, but I’d woken up barefoot and there weren’t any shoes hidden in the closet or anywhere else in the room. I’d slice my feet open if I did manage to break the glass without attracting attention.
I’d lost track of time as I spent all my energy trying to not envision different scenarios of what he had planned for me. Regardless of what it was, I’d survive. Just like I always did. Still, I couldn’t stop shaking. To help take my mind off my current situation, I pictured Donovan in my head. Him kissing me, touching me, loving me. It was the only thing keeping me sane.
I knew that between all the security around the house and Josie’s skills, he would find me. When I thought of security, I prayed Roger was okay. My gut told me something bad happened. There was no way he would have let someone get to me if he could help it. I said another quick prayer, desperately wanting him to be okay. I’d just finished when the door to the bedroom opened and in walked Dmitri.
Terror had me frozen in my spot. Dmitri was the polar opposite of Vlad. Whereas Vlad was dark and swarthy, Dmitri was pale and blond. He was slender, with only the slightest muscular definition and average height. His hair was cut short compared to Vlad’s longer locks. Vlad was also tender and gentle and had always made sure I’d orgasmed first, even if it was against my will. This bastard, on the other hand, was a demon disguised as a man.
Pure sadistic evil ran through him. He’d relished the torture he’d caused. My back and ass burned from the remembered pain Dmitri had inflicted on me with a bamboo cane. There was no pleasure with his pain. He took great delight in harming me in any way he could.
I could feel my mind beginning to shut down. It was almost like I could hear the doors of each compartment slamming shut.
Sunshine.
Donovan.
Sunshine.
Donovan.
NO! I refused to let fear takeover. I needed to harness my rage and hatred and keep myself in the here and now. Otherwise, Dmitri would do unspeakable things to me, regardless of whether I was alert or not. He had no qualms about violating my unconscious body. That’s how much of a monster he was. Vlad was an angel compared to Dmitri. I could also only fight Dmitri if I was alert.
“ Zdravstvuyte, simpatichnaya shlyukha.” He grinned smugly at me as he locked the door behind him and moved farther into the room.
“Fuck you, Dmitri.” I ground out the words with pure hatred, because I knew what his words meant. It wasn’t the first time he’d called me a pretty whore.
He stopped his progression and peered at me with interest. His shit-eating grin widened even more. “Interesting. Kotenok imeyet kogti. How do you Americans say? The kitten has claws? Da?”
I assumed his questions were rhetorical so I ignored them. My eyes tracked Dmitri. He moved stealthily as I backed further away from him. He stalked me like prey. Before I realized it, I collided with the French door, the panes of the glass cool against my back.
Dmitri lunged for me and I dove out of his grasp. I raced across the room, and I’d just reached the door he’d entered when excruciating pain hit me as my head was jerked back when he grabbed a handful of my hair. I yelled out, and tears of pain filled my eyes. He spun me around and threw me against the door. His hand wrapped around my neck. I grasped his forearm with both my hands and tried to pull his away, but his only response was to tighten his grip. My breath stopped as he cut off my oxygen supply and I scratched and clawed at him, but it was no use. I thrashed in his grasp, but he held fast. Oh my god, I’m going to die.
Soon, my vision blurred and black spots danced in my eyes. When I was on the verge of passing out, Dmitri released his hold on me and I gasped in air, coughing and choking as I tried to pull in oxygen. I’d barely caught my breath when he backhanded me causing me to stumble and almost fall. He wrapped both of his arms around my body locking my arms against my side and my back against his chest as he lifted me off my feet. I kicked and hoarsely screamed, trying to break his hold on me, but my struggles were utterly useless.
He threw me face down on the bed and climbed on top of me. And still, I fought, even when he grabbed another hand full of my hair and jerked my head back, causing me to cry out in more pain. I cringed when he bent over me and licked the side of my face. His harshly accented English grated abrasively against my ear.
“Breaking that pussy was sweetest job ever. Your screams like music to my ears.”
He ground his pelvis against my ass, his erection pushing hard against me. I wanted to vomit. Dmitri’s tongue traced another path up my cheek.
“Mmm, I love to taste your tears, krasotka.”
His words jolted me because I hadn’t even realized I’d been crying. I groaned when he yanked my hair yet again.
“I can’t wait to fuck this ass.” He punctuated his words with a thrust of his hips, grinding his cock even harder against me. My screams and struggles began anew when Dmitri pulled up the back of my nightgown and his rough hands ripped the underwear off me. I heard the jingle of a belt buckle being loosened, and I started hyperventilating. Black dots danced in my vision and everything turned gray. I prayed I would pass out before the violation. Please God. Don’t let this happen to me again. I’ll never survive. God, please, no.
A loud pop sounded and then glass shattered. An unearthly roar reverberated through the air, and suddenly the weight of Dmitri’s body was gone. I scrambled off the bed just in time to see Dmitri roundhouse kick the gun out Donovan’s hands. In retaliation Donovan threw a punch hitting Dmitri in the face. I gasped as blood sprayed from his mouth. Shock seeing Donovan here had me immobile.
Punches flew as both men fought for their lives.
The sound of flesh meeting flesh echoed in the room and my breath caught again as Donovan stumbled backwards after a solid hit to his gut. Dmitri drove his shoulder into Donovan’s stomach and both men fell to the ground. They rolled back and forth, each man taking a turn on top as punches continued to rain down.
I couldn’t just stand there doing nothing. I gaped around the room until my eyes landed on the gun on the other side of the room. I raced over and picked it up. When I turned back to the men, Dmitri had Donovan pinned and his hands were wrapped around his throat.
“Stop!” I screamed, pointing the gun at the two men. When it didn’t appear as though Dmitri was going to listen, I did the only thing I could think of. I fired at the wall, causing Dmitri to loosen his grip on Donovan and spin around, which had been my intention. A slow smile spread across his face. Donovan laid unmoving. I prayed he wasn’t hurt.
“You won’t shoot, simpatichnaya shlyukha,” he goaded me, clearly underestimating my hatred. And I hated that he was right. I didn’t know if I had it in me to shoot him. Until moments ago, I’d never even fired a gun.
“Don’t try me, Dmitri. I will shoot you,” I said, my hands shaking.
He slowly prowled toward me forcing me to back up, the gun still trained on him.
“I’ll do it!” I yelled, as he kept moving closer. My back hit the door and there was no place for me to go.
When a pounding began at the door and Vlad’s voice roared behind it, I automatically jumped. In the meantime, Dmitri charged, and instinctively, my finger tightened, and I squeezed the trigger. The recoil had me jerking. Time stood still as I stared at Dmitri, who now stood unmoving, a dark stain beginning to spread across his shirt. Behind him, Donovan groaned and slowly began to move. He pushed himself to his feet and shook his head. More pounding came on the door, with Vlad yelling again to open up. Donovan had finally recovered and when he looked up he staggered over to me, pulling the gun from my hands. I was alarmed by the number of cuts and amount of blood running down his face. His left eye was already beginning to swell shut.
My gaze quickly returned to Dmitri who, without warning, dropped to his knees. His hand came up to his chest and when he pulled it away, a smear of blood came with it. His eyes flickered up to mine and an almost surprised admiration reflected in them. The light slowly dimmed though, and he pitched forward to the ground.
Donovan spun around, gun aimed at the door just as it crashed open, revealing a furious Vlad on the other side. When he spotted us, his eyes widened in surprise and then narrowed in rage. Like lightening, his arm shot up to reveal a gun in his hand, causing Donovan to push me behind him .
“You get past my guards.” Impressed was the only way I could describe Vlad’s tone. “How?”
“I was a combat Marine, Dragomirov. Your incompetent guards aren’t the first I’ve had to kill.” Donovan scoffed as though insulted.
“You are worthy opponent. No matter. Put down your weapon, suka,” Vlad commanded calmly.
My eyes zoomed in on Vlad, terrified he might shoot Donovan.
“Please don’t hurt him, Vlad.” I cried out, begging for all I was worth.
Vlad finally glanced in my direction and took in my disheveled appearance. His gaze then shot to where Dmitri lay dead.
His eyes narrowed. “What happened? Why is Dmitri in here?”
“You didn’t send him?” I asked, confused by Vlad’s questions.
He turned his head back to me, appearing puzzled. “Why would I allow him to come here without my presence?”
None of this made any sense. “You said you would have to begin my training again. I assumed you sent Dmitri in here for that exact reason.”
Appalled was the only way to describe Vlad’s expression. It quickly shifted to anger. “Never. No matter. He is now dead. And you—” he paused, gesturing at Donovan with his gun, “—will be next.”
“I’m afraid that’s not going to happen, Dragomirov.” Donovan’s voice was so calm and sedate, it was eerie.
“How are you going to stop me?” Vlad sneered.
“You don’t actually think I came alone, do you?” Donovan asked, a certain confidence in his tone that had me believing there was someone else here. “You’ll never make it out of here alive.”
I could tell Vlad was trying to determine what I already had, and that was whether Donovan was telling the truth. He must have heard the same sincerity I did, because he lowered his weapon.
Donovan gestured with his gun as he spoke. “Set the gun on the floor and step back with your hands up.”
Vlad hesitated briefly before reluctantly bending down and releasing the weapon. Once standing he took several steps backward, hands in the air. At the same time, Donovan reached back with his free hand to grasp hold of mine. He began to move forward pushing Vlad farther and farther out of the room.
We headed down the hallway, until we reached the large foyer. The front door burst open and Donovan quickly turned, gun raised, as though startled by the sound. He relaxed when he saw it was Connor. I screamed when his arm shot up at lightning speed and he fired the gun in his hand in our direction. When I didn’t feel the piercing pain of a bullet and Donovan hadn’t flinched, I spun around quickly, only to see Vlad stumble backward and hit the wall behind him, a gun he must have been hiding on him somewhere still in his hand.
“I thought the Feds wanted him alive?” Donovan, who’d lowered his arm again, spoke over my shoulder.
I turned back to Connor who holstered his weapon. “I couldn’t let him shoot you. At least not in front of her.”
A cough came from Vlad as he slid down the wall, a smear of blood leaving a trail behind him.
“Malen’kaya igrushka.” His chest rattled as he gasped for breath, choking a little on the blood. “Phebe.”
Vlad spoke both the hated nickname and my real name, one he’d only ever used once, as he coughed up more blood. His wound was most likely fatal and we both knew it. He lay slumped against the wall, his feet out in front of him as another coughing fit racked his body, blood soaking the entire front of his shirt. Like a ghost, I couldn’t feel my feet propel me toward him as his eyes begged me to come closer. I looked down at him with a sense of satisfaction, but also with the tiniest kernel of sadness.
My heart actually ached. I couldn’t explain the emotion, it was just there. This man had held me captive, abused me, and violated me in the most damaging way, and yet I felt sorrow that he was dying.
Vlad’s coughing spell slowed and then ceased as he looked up at me with a sad smile. “You would have made a beautiful queen. Maya karaleva. My queen.”
I looked down at him despairingly. “Oh, Vlad. I was never going to be your queen.”
Those were my final words to him as I turned my back and left him lying in his own blood waiting for death to come.
As I walked toward Donovan, my love, a weight was lifted from my shoulders.
It was over.
My past was dead and as I reached Donovan, my future, a sense of peace I hadn’t felt in years flowed through me.
Phebe
One month later
I’d moved into Donovan’s house shortly after we’d left Patterson Island. I couldn’t stay in the safe house any longer. It was too hard after everything that had happened there. Every day I mourned Roger’s loss. He’d been a good friend to me, and I missed him. For the first couple weeks, I’d had recurring nightmares and my panic attacks had come back with a vengeance. I’d been seeing Madeline a couple times a week and I was coping better. Slowly, I was healing. I knew it would continue to take time, but I was in a much better place emotionally. Donovan and I were still learning each other and more and more our separate roles of Dominant and submissive were being clearly defined. I woke up the other day with the realization that for the first time in a long time, I was truly happy.
Pacing hadn’t helped calm me down so I’d been sitting here on the couch, leg bouncing with restlessness, for ten minutes. Nerves had my stomach threaten
ing to lose its meager contents. I couldn’t help but wonder how this woman, my sister, would look at me, especially knowing what had happened to me. There was nothing worse than being pitied. God, I didn’t want to do this. I knew Donovan would cancel this meeting if I asked him to, but I didn’t want to disappoint him.
I was also scared of my own reaction to seeing her. From what Connor had told me that first night, it was Josie who found where I was being held, and I still couldn’t help but feel the tiniest bit bitter that she hadn’t been able to do it faster.
Guilt rushed through me. What happened to me wasn’t Josie’s fault. I’m sure she did the best she could. I wiped my sweaty palms on my pants and took in several deep breaths. Light footsteps echoed outside the room before they suddenly stopped. A tentative knock sounded on the door. I attempted to stand, but my body refused to cooperate. I was stuck here.
“Come—” The word came out on a croak. Hastily, I cleared my throat and tried again. “Come in.” I braced myself for the first sight of this woman who claimed to be my sister.
The door opened slowly, as though the person on the other side was as hesitant about this meeting as I was. Then, there she stood. My heart stopped beating and every breath of air rushed out of me. Black spots danced in my vision, and I blinked repeatedly to brush them away. I realized my hands were shaking. My fists instinctively clenched to cease the tremors, my nails biting into my palms. Josie stepped fully into the room and gently closed the door behind her.
She smiled softly, her bright blue eyes damp with wetness behind her royal blue glasses. I studied her thoughtfully, trying to find any resemblance between us. The only one I could see was the blonde hair, although hers was cut in a short bob, her hair shiny, glossy, and clean. Unconsciously, my hand went to my own hair, still growing out after I’d finally cut off my dreadlocks. My eyes were almond shaped and brown, while hers were a vivid blue. She had an oval face whereas mine was heart-shaped. Maybe our noses were similar, but only minimally and not enough to mark us as related. She was beautiful, curved in all the right places. I was still a touch underweight, although Donovan was continuously doing his best to make me eat more than any reasonable person could.