The Ruthless Knight

by Jeana E. Mann

  Valentina nods, smiling at my answer. "What do you think, Victor?"

  Victor nods his assent. "Sounds good to me, boss."

  The metal legs of a chair scrape over the floor as she drags it closer to me. She takes a seat, crosses her legs at the knee, and leans forward from the seat, blocking my view of Nicky.

  “Okay.” Her gaze bores into me. “Calliope, you will go first.” The tip of her tongue sweeps over her lower lip. “Now tell me. How old were you when your stepfather first touched you?”

  Ten

  Calliope

  A throbbing pain in my head awakens me from a deep and dreamless sleep. I groan and throw a forearm over my eyes. For a minute, I think I’m back in my shitty apartment. Then I remember Nicky, the tropical compound, and Valentina’s psychotic smile. I spring to a sitting position, scanning the space. I’m in a different room. It’s dark. No windows. No furniture. Just a bucket on a hard, concrete floor. I know the door is locked, but I check it anyway.

  This room is small, barely bigger than a closet. My chest heaves as I fight for air. Breathe, Calliope, breathe. In through the nose. Out through the mouth. The tight space reminds me of my childhood. Of the many days and nights spent locked in the closet as punishment by a junkie mother who couldn’t be bothered with a rebellious kid.

  Slowly, the terror of the past few hours unfolds in my hazy brain. My body aches from Viktor’s brutal punches. I run my tongue around the perimeter of my mouth, grateful to find all my teeth in place. Aside from one fist to the mouth, he’d kept his blows confined to my body. Nicky hadn’t been so lucky. She seemed to take pleasure from inflicting pain on his proud body.

  During the worst of it, I’d taken strength from his unwavering gaze. He’d been an anchor in the midst of all the chaos. “Look at me, Jones,” he’d whispered when the thin man came at me with the brand. If I had doubted his part in this fiasco before, I know the truth now. He’s as much a victim as I am. How has he endured this crazy torture for five years? I can’t blame him for using me to gain his freedom.

  I curl up in the corner, too exhausted and weak to sit. The only sound is the beating of my heart. A tear oozes down my swollen cheek. I’m so fucked. I want to cry, but I know that once I start, I might lose control completely.

  When sunshine illuminates the cracks in the door, Viktor arrives. Daylight streams into the room, blinding me. He places a bottle of water on the floor between us. Is it my imagination or has he gotten bigger overnight? I struggle to my feet and shrink to the farthest corner. “Valentina is having breakfast on the patio and wants you to join her. Put this on.” He tosses a blue flowered sundress at me. “Hurry up.”

  “Do you mind?” I ask, hoping for a tiny bit of modesty.

  “Just do it.” He stands in the open doorway, arms crossed over his chest, and watches while I wash my hands and face with the water. His gaze roams over me with inappropriate zeal. Afraid to turn my back on him, I strip off the blood-spattered white dress and pull the new one over my head. We walk in silence down the winding pathway from the guesthouse to the pool. My body aches in ways I never guessed possible. The sweet scent of jasmine and magnolias turns my stomach.

  At the table, Valentina removes her sunglasses and wraps a motherly arm around my shoulders. Her touch sends a shiver down my spine. “Oh, look at you. Poor baby. Does it hurt?” With the tip of a finger, she gingerly touches my swollen eye.

  “What do you think?” I brush her hand away, not caring that the gesture might bring about more punishment.

  “Pablo, bring some ice for this sweet girl.” She pulls out a chair for me. I sit down, refusing to wince at the soreness in my muscles. Nicky arrives a few minutes later. He’s dressed in loose drawstring pants and a linen pullover shirt. When he removes his sunglasses, purple and green circles rim his eyes. If he’s in pain, he doesn’t show it. As he sits, his gaze flicks to mine. The amount of rage in his steely gaze knocks me to the back of my seat. He hates Valentina as much or more than I do.

  “Oh, don’t look at me that way, Nikolay.” Valentina’s tone turns petulant. “You’ll hurt my feelings.”

  “Fuck. You.” The deep growl of his voice is an ominous warning.

  Her shoulders rise and fall with a deep sigh. “I’m growing tired of your attitude.”

  “Then let me go. You got what you wanted.” When she doesn’t answer, he leans forward. “I have businesses to run. People will be looking for me. Roman will be looking for me. You don’t want the war king to come here, do you?”

  “That Russian has-been doesn’t scare me.” With a wave of her hand, she returns her attention to me. “I’m invincible.”

  I stare at the plate of scrambled eggs and fresh fruit on my plate. My guts ache like they did when I was in a car wreck. Even if I could eat, my stomach wouldn’t accept it. I push the plate away.

  “Not hungry? You need to keep up your strength. We’re just getting started.” At the sight of her frown, my entire body begins to tremble. I remember her punishments all too well. She shrugs. “Suit yourself. Nicky, why don’t you take her up to your room and let her rest? I’m sure a nap and a long soak in the tub will do wonders for your aches, Calliope. And when you’ve rested, we’ll continue our work from last night.”

  The words strike terror in my soul. Nicky stands, helps me from my chair, and rushes me into the house. He’s silent until the bedroom door closes behind us.

  “Are you okay?” I smooth my fingertips over his swollen lips and bruised face.

  “I’ve been worse.” The apathy slides from his expression. He draws me into his embrace, wrapping one arm loosely around my waist. The other presses my head to his chest. His touch is tender. The gentleness brings the sting of tears to my eyes. He smooths my hair, murmuring the same words over and over. “I’m sorry. So sorry.”

  “No. I’m sorry.” The longer he holds me, the more violently my body shakes. I cling to him, taking strength from his embrace. Even though he’s my enemy, I need to believe there’s still kindness in the world. Because without that small glimmer of hope, I’ve got nothing left to keep me from falling apart. “But I had to lie. If she finds out about my sister—”

  “It’s okay. I understand.” His breath puffs against my hair. “You need to protect her. No one will fault you for that.”

  Pablo brings up bath salts, a first aid kit, and more ice. The concern for our welfare is confusing. Apparently, Valentina wants healthy victims. I want to refuse, but Nicky insists. “Those cuts need tending. You don’t want to get an infection. The jungle harbors all kinds of nasty germs.”

  In mute fascination, I let him ease me into the bathroom. He washes my face with a warm cloth, eyes narrowed in concentration. I hiss at the sting when he applies antibiotic ointment to the split in my lip and the tiny cuts left by Viktor’s ring. The amount of gentleness in his touch is both comforting and arousing. On occasion, our eyes meet. The gray of his irises is liquid, mesmerizing, and soft like flannel. How would it feel to look in those eyes without the shadow of Valentina hanging over us?

  Eleven

  Nicky

  The sight of Calliope’s battered body is more than I can bear. Valentina has always been cruel, but it’s never affected me like this. For hours, she made Calliope talk about the way her stepfather abused her, the prostitution and pornography. Throughout the entire inquisition, Calliope never broke down. Not once. She held her head high, cursing at Viktor, spitting on Valentina’s designer shoes. Every time she hesitated or refused to answer, Valentina took it out on me. I was the weak one. I hate myself for doing nothing while Viktor satisfied his hatred of women with his fists.

  Calliope sits on the closed toilet lid while I fill the tub with the essential oils and salts provided by Pablo. At her request, I help her undress. The burn mark from Valentina’s brand glows in the same place as mine above Calliope’s left hip. The water splashes as she submerges up to her chin in the soothing bath. Her eyes close, long lashes fanning out in half-moons on her che
eks.

  “I’ll give you some privacy.” I turn, intending to let her rest and take some personal time to sort out my emotions. I never expected to feel so much empathy for a stranger.

  Her hand catches my wrist. She sits up. Opens her eyes. “Thank you.”

  “For what? Getting you into this mess? For drugging you, kidnapping you, giving you over to an evil drug lord/human trafficker who wants both of us dead?” The depths of my self-loathing sink to an all-time low. “I sat there and watched while Viktor did this to you. I’m as bad as she is.”

  “She held a knife to your throat.” The same knife she used to peel apples at the breakfast table. “You had no choice.” The cut on my neck from the tip of the blade still stings. Calliope shakes her head, invoking ripples in the water. “She would’ve killed you.”

  The truth doesn’t minimize my guilt. This shit with Valentina should have ended long ago. At first, it was honor that kept me from taking action. I’d given her my word in exchange for a favor. Back then, she was only into whips and candle wax, things I’d often indulged in at my sex club. I was a fool to think I could extract myself from her bargain without consequences. Excuses won’t make this situation better, but I feel like I owe Calliope an explanation. The words knot on my tongue.

  “Stop blaming yourself.” Calliope speaks without opening her eyes.

  “I can’t help it. None of this would have happened if it wasn’t for me.” The guilt eats at my soul. Calliope was so brave, and I did nothing. I said nothing. Blood pumps faster and faster through my veins until I feel like my heart will explode. “Five years ago, when I negotiated this deal, I had no idea what I set into motion. If I had, I would have found another way.”

  At the time, there had been no other options. I had to stop Don McElroy before he killed the people who mattered most to me.

  “Wallowing in regret isn’t going to solve anything.” Beneath the bubbles, the curves of her breasts are faintly visible. I try not to stare. She’s been violated enough. “We need a plan.”

  “Believe me when I say escape is impossible. I’ve tried. Numerous times.” And each time, the punishment of being caught was unbearable. “Her power extends way beyond this compound. The people in the villages work for her. She feeds and clothes them. Pays for their schools and hospitals. Even if you managed to get past the guards and the razor wire, someone will find you and bring you right back.” I perch on the edge of the tub and run a hand over my jaw. The stubble of whiskers abrades my palm. I haven’t shaved since I arrived, something uncharacteristic for me. “The only option is to wait it out. Her attention span is limited at best. After a few days, she’ll lose interest. She’ll let me go eventually. When I’m free, I’ll do what I can to get you out of here.”

  “Why, in hell, would you make a bargain like this?”

  “Do you remember Don McElroy?”

  “The former Vice President?” She sits up a little. “The one who was involved in all that dirty stuff?”

  “Yes. That one.” I nod. The shenanigans of the former war hero had been plastered all over the media for months. “He threatened to kill Rourke, my sister-in-law, and her best friend Everly. I had to find him before he could carry out the plan. He took refuge here, with Valentina. I tried to bribe her to turn him over to me, but being wealthy, she wasn’t interested in money. She’d been coming on to me for years, asking me to join her on vacations. I’d always refused. When she proposed a sexual relationship, I agreed. I’ve slept with many, many women. One more didn’t seem out of the question. In fact, it seemed like an easy fix to a huge problem.” At the time, the request had been a mere inconvenience. In hindsight, I should’ve known better. “The last time I tried to end our bargain, she threatened to kidnap Milada and bring her here.” And I just couldn’t have that.

  With her big toe, she turns the faucet handle, adding more hot water to the steaming bath. She winces at the movement. My admiration for her grows. I’ve seen men twice her size cry over injuries half as serious.

  “Let me get you some ibuprofen.” I begin rummaging through the first aid kit.

  “No, I’m fine, or at least, I will be after I kill that bitch.”

  At her surprising declaration, a burst of laughter rumbles out of my chest. Her swollen mouth bows in a smile. “You impress me, Miss Jones.”

  “Wait until you see me in action. I’m amazing.” With those final words, she lets out a sigh and tilts her head back to rest on the bath pillow.

  “I can hardly wait.” I head to the bedroom veranda and stare out the window at the ocean. I used to love the beach, but now the sight of sand and surf turns my stomach. With a groan, I let my head fall into my hands. There has to be a way out of this for both of us.

  A short time later, Pablo arrives with lunch. His eyes avoid mine as he sets the tray on the small table next to my chair. “Mrs. Sokolov would like you to know that she’s been called away on business for a few days. She asks that you enjoy the amenities of the compound in her absence.”

  “Thank you.” I lift the lid of the largest silver chafing dish to scrutinize the contents. “Is this okay to eat?”

  “Yes, sir. The food is fine, but I would avoid the iced tea.”

  “Great. I appreciate it.” Over the years, I’ve cultivated a relationship with Pablo. I help him with his English and pad his income while he looks after me during my visits to this tropical hell.

  “Is no problem.” His gaze flits to the bathroom where Calliope can be heard moving around. “She okay?”

  “What do you think?”

  “Not for me to pass judgment,” he replies, like he’s reading from a script. After a short bow, he backs toward the door. “If you need anything, please let me know.”

  Calliope returns from the bathroom, running a towel through her curly black hair. The belt of a fluffy bathrobe cinches tight around her narrow waist. “Is that lunch? I’m starving.”

  “Yes. Help yourself.” While I’m speaking, I pour the contents of the glass pitcher into the bathroom sink.

  “Why did you do that?”

  “Valentina sometimes likes to put a little something extra in her food and drinks. It’s always wise to be cautious. Let her drink and eat first. If you have the opportunity, you can ask Pablo.”

  “Why would he tell you something like that? Isn’t he afraid of what will happen if she finds out?” Her brown eyes lock onto mine. For a second, I lose myself in the warmth of their depths.

  “He’s just as much a hostage as we are. She forced him into employment for repayment of a debt.”

  She sits in the opposite chair and bites into a triangle of chicken salad on toast. The damp strands of her hair float around her face. We eat in silence. Unlike before, this lack of conversation seems natural. It’s a novelty to me. My previous interactions with women have been limited to flirting and sex. Although I’ve only known her a short time, a bond is growing between us.

  “You don’t like the crusts?” I point to the remnants of bread on her plate.

  “No.” Her pert nose crinkles. “It’s disgusting.”

  “Is there any particular reason?” My attempt at lightheartedness receives a raised eyebrow.

  “Not really.” She tucks a foot beneath her and holds the sandwich with both hands, nibbling on it like a mouse. The gesture is both cute and endearing. “My gran used to cut them off for me. I guess it just reminds me of her.”

  “And she was good to you?” The more I know her, the more curious I am about the events that made her into such a strong woman.

  “Yes. Most of the time.” Our fingertips touch as we reach for the same sandwich at the same time. The electric jolt up my arm makes me flinch. She bites her teeth into the fullness of her lower lip and chooses a different one. “My mother and I lived with her until she kicked us out. Not that I blame her. Mom was a full-blow heroin addict by then.”

  “That must have been difficult for you.”

  Her shoulder lifts in a nonchalant shrug. “It
is what it is. It happened, and I dealt with it. There really wasn’t any other choice.”

  “I can relate.” Although my circumstances were much different, I never felt loved or wanted, and I was forced into a life of someone else’s choosing. “What about your sister? Where is she?”

  “I don’t know.” The glimmer of tears shines in her eyes.

  Beneath us, the gardening crew moves into the pool yard to perform maintenance. We watch them scurry about in their gray uniforms. The buzz of lawn equipment breaks the quiet. Pablo returns to remove the tray and dishes. Afterward, she withdraws a small tube of burn cream from her robe pocket. “I almost forgot. I found this in the first aid kit. I put it on my—the burn. You should put some on yours.” She looks away, like it’s too difficult to meet my eyes.

  “It’s not necessary. I’m fine.” I shift, remembering Valentina’s devious smile as she pressed the glowing tip of her cigarette to my bare skin over and over again. The odor of burning flesh. My flesh. Her laughter on the few occasions that my control slipped and I showed the pain.

  “You just gave me a lecture about the dangers of infection in this type of environment. Open your shirt.” With one hand on her hip and both eyebrows raised, she stands in front of me.

  “Fine.” I drag my shirt over my head and toss it on the bed. She squeezes a bit of ointment onto the tip of her finger, dabbing it gently on the worst burn. I try not to jerk at her gentle touch. To distract myself from the sting, I watch the way her brows furrow as she concentrates. When she bends to attend the wounds around my navel, her hair tickles my chest. Without thinking, I lower my head to smell the thick, shiny locks. She smells delicious—a combination of coconut, honey, and citrus. Startled, she glances up. The movement brings her face close to mine. My lips tingle with the urge to kiss her.

  I shouldn’t. I know better. Forming an attachment with this woman will only make us more vulnerable to Valentina’s mind games. On the other hand, the urge to live every moment to the fullest has always been a temptation I can’t deny. The decision is made for me. She lifts on her toes and presses her mouth to mine. I hiss at the initial ache.