by Zoe Blake
Mary cupped her hand around her mouth and shouted over the music and crowd. “Where’s Emma?”
Mike motioned with his thumb over his shoulder. “I asked her to pull a couple bottles of rum for me from the liquor cage. She’s taking forever.”
Fuck.
That was all I needed to hear.
Shoving through the crowd, I focused on the battered metal door to the left. It was where Mike had gestured and, I already assessed, probably led to the back area. Bursting through the door, I squinted as my eyes adjusted to the bright fluorescent kitchen lights as compared to the dimly lit bar area.
Pointing to the first man I saw, he froze with a fryer basket of fries in his hand, his eyes wide with fear. “Liquor cage?” I ground out, baring my teeth.
He motioned with his head. “Down the hall. Last door on the right.”
The rest of the staff wisely leapt out of my way as I crashed through the kitchen and down the hallway, calling out her name. The last door on the right was a heavy metal door. No longer white, it was covered in scratches and dark smudges from decades of rubber-soled shoes kicking it closed. I tried the lever handle.
Locked.
By now, both Mary and Mike had caught up to me, standing behind me in the narrow hallway as the rest of the kitchen staff looked on curiously.
Glancing over my shoulder, I asked, “Is this door usually locked?”
Mary’s red lipstick was a bloody slash across her face as her complexion drained of color. “No. Never during service. There is a caged wall a few feet inside the door where we keep the booze. It’s secured with a padlock.”
Balling my hand into a fist, I pounded on it. “Open the fucking door.”
I thought I heard a muffled shout, but I couldn’t be certain. There was too much noise around me.
My gaze traveled over the door. It was reinforced steel and opened out, which meant I couldn’t kick it down.
Reaching behind me, I took out my gun.
Mary gasped. Mike muttered a low curse.
“You there,” I called, singling out the closest staff member with obvious prison tattoos. I knew my kind when I saw one. “Make some fucking noise.”
He nodded. Turning to his co-workers, he shouted at them to slam pots together. Mike followed suit, waving his arms and shouting as he grabbed a ladle and beat it against the side of the pizza oven. Between that and the already elevated music inside the bar, I’d be covered.
“Step back and cover your ears,” I ordered Mary.
Careful to angle the gun to only shoot off the lever handle and not hit the metal door, which could cause a deadly ricochet, I fired.
The handle flew clean off to clatter across the tile floor, landing in a corner. Shoving my fingers into the open hole it left, I pulled the door open.
And saw red.
The room reeked of rum. The dirty cement floor was soaked with liquor and covered in shattered glass. Emma was pinned against the cage wall. Her face was turned to the side as she struggled in the grasp of some drunken businessman in a suit.
Correction, a dead drunken businessman.
“Come on, slut. You know you want it,” he slurred as his hand reached down to his pants.
With an inhuman roar, I grabbed the man by the shoulder and pulled him off my girl. He spun till his back hit the cage. His feet then slipped in the rum and he fell on his ass onto the filthy floor.
Wrapping my hand around the dead man’s throat, I forced him back onto his feet.
“What the fuck, man?” His fleshy face was covered in sweat from fear and overindulgence.
I shoved the muzzle of my gun between his teeth. His eyes bulged as his shoulders heaved.
Without taking my eyes off him, I ordered, “Get her out of here.”
“Dimitri,” appealed Emma as she reached out an arm to touch me but pulled back.
Turning, I saw her stricken pale face and torn shirt and wanted to howl in rage. A bullet would be too good for this man; I was going to tear his flesh off his bones with my bare hands.
“I said get her out of here!” I shouted.
I didn’t want Emma to see this side of me. The violent thug I usually hid behind a veneer of expensive suits and cultured tastes. The ruthless criminal who had built an empire not through empty threats but through savage force.
Mary wrapped her arms around Emma and dragged her toward the door.
“Come on, Emma. You don’t need to see this.”
“No! Dimitri! Don’t, please!” she cried out as she struggled in Mary’s grasp.
“Mike! Help me,” called out Mary.
The two of them wrapped their hands around Emma’s upper arms and pulled her out of the room.
“You have to stop him! He can’t do this! Please! Dimitri! Please!”
I could hear her cries echoing down the hallway. I turned my attention back to the man who had dared to assault my girl.
“Я должен покончить с твоей жизнью прямо сейчас за то, что прикоснулся к тому, что принадлежит мне.”
Hearing the Russian language, the man’s face crumpled as he blubbered and cried around the muzzle of my gun. He didn’t need to know I had just told him I could end his life right now for touching what was mine. I knew what a terrifying vision I made, between the neck and hand tattoos, gun, and speaking Russian. He knew he was in far worse trouble than if an American cop had stopped him.
“Dimitri, I need you! Please, don’t do this!”
Her sorrowful cry from outside the door pierced my heart.
One day she was going to have to face the hard truth about who and what I was… but this wasn’t that day. Not for a piece of shit drunken asshole like this.
Releasing his throat, I reached into his suit jacket and pulled out his wallet. Opening the leather flap, I read the name on his driver’s license. “Brad Crenski.”
He cried out and struggled to grab the wrist holding the gun in his mouth.
I cocked the hammer on the Glock.
He let go and held his hands high as he tried to plead with me. The words indistinct and muffled. Not that I gave a damn what this piece of shit had to say, anyway.
Using my thumb, I slid out a business card from one of the wallet folds. It had his name in gold foil under a long law firm name.
I had all the information I required. I pulled the gun free.
“I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.” Spittle formed at the corners of his mouth as he pitifully pled for his life.
Emma was already traumatized. The last thing she needed was me to return to her with this piece of shit’s brain matter and blood all over me. Someone else would get that pleasure tonight.
“Get out of my sight.”
By now two bouncers were standing guard near the threshold. With a respectful nod to me; like I said, I know my kind when I see them. They seized the man by the upper arms and dragged him to the nearest exit.
Taking out my phone, I called Vaska.
“How’d it go in New York?”
“Later. Right now I have a job for you.”
I repeated Brad’s home address and other details, before saying, “He attacked Emma.”
“Fuck. Is she all right?”
“She will be.”
“Consider it handled, my friend. I’ll call Ivan. He’ll make it painful. Go take care of your girl.”
Brad wouldn’t live to see tomorrow, and I didn’t feel even a shred of guilt over that fact.
Taking a deep breath, I tried to rein in my wrath.
Now it was time to deal with Emma.
My baby girl was about to learn there were consequences for lying to me and putting herself in danger like this.
Punishing ones.
Chapter 21
I have to remind myself to breathe—almost to remind my heart to beat! - Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights
Emma
I flattened my back against the grimy hallway
wall as the bouncers dragged the odious drunk away. Sick relief twisted my stomach. Thank God Dimitri hadn’t killed him. I didn’t think I could live with that on my conscience. The man was bent in half, his head lowered so I couldn’t tell if there were any injuries.
Moments later, Dimitri appeared.
I scanned his appearance, looking for traces of blood or violence.
There was none.
Seeing me, his arms opened. I ran into them. That was when I finally felt safe and knew the worst was over, when his powerful embrace closed around me. He buried his hands in my hair as he whispered in Russian against the top of my head before cupping my jaw and tilting my head back.
His dark gaze pierced my own. Leaning down, he gave me a fierce kiss on the lips before trailing his mouth over my cheekbone to once again hug me close.
Mike cleared his throat. “I disabled the alarm on the emergency door. You can sneak out through the back.”
I didn’t look up but could feel Dimitri shift as he stuck out his arm to shake Mike’s hand. “Any issues?” With my ear pressed to his chest, his words were a low rumble.
“None. No one heard a thing.”
“And the staff?”
“They saw nothing,” Mike answered pointedly.
Shifting me to his side, with one arm still wrapped securely across my back, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his money clip. Tossing it to Mike, he said, “Count off three bills for each of you.”
Without arguing, Mike opened the clip and counted out the required number of hundred-dollar bills before handing it back to Dimitri. “Thanks, man.”
He nodded. “Thank you.”
Just then, Mary stroked my back. Her lips trembled. “I’m so sorry, Emma. I didn’t know.”
I moved to hug her, but Dimitri tightened his embrace. I sent him an entreating look. Slowly, he relented, but kept a hand on my lower back as I turned to hug Mary.
“It wasn’t your fault. I should have realized he followed me back here.”
“I’m going to clock out. We’ll go home. I’ll run you a bath and—”
Dimitri interrupted Mary. “She’s coming home with me.”
Mary lowered her head as she swiped at the tears and smeared mascara on her cheeks. “Of course. Yes, that would probably be best.”
“But—” I objected.
Dimitri placed a hand under my chin and tilted my head back. “You are in enough trouble as it is, моя крошка. Don’t push me on this. You are coming home with me.”
Trouble?
Uh oh.
In all the drama I’d forgotten I had misled Dimitri about my plans this evening, knowing in my gut he would disapprove.
Mary patted my upper arm. “It’s fine, Emma. You should go with Dimitri.”
Not only for Mary’s sake, but for my own. Suddenly not wanting to be alone with Dimitri, I grasped the lapels of his suit jacket. “Dimitri, Mary has had a scare too. I don’t want her to be alone right now.”
His jaw tightened. Without saying a word, he took out his phone and typed in a quick text one-handed, then placed the phone back in his inside jacket pocket.
“Mary, you remember my friend, Vaska Lukovich?”
She nodded.
“Good. He is on his way over here to escort you home. He will also stay as long as you need.”
Mary shook her head, her cheeks brightening. “That isn’t necessary. I’m fine getting home on my own. Really.”
“It’s done. I recommend you be here when he arrives. He doesn’t have my sweet demeanor and will be upset if he has to… track you down.”
Mary and I exchanged a wide-eyed glance. “Yes, sir,” she whispered.
Dimitri held me close as he ushered me through the kitchen and out a side door into the icy darkness. Closing his warm hand over mine, he pulled me through the parked cars till we were in an open space in an upper corner of the lot. There was the dull roar of an engine, then the wind kicked up, blowing my hair over my face. Brushing it back with my forearm, I realized it was a red helicopter, hovering dangerously low just above us.
Dimitri motioned for it to lower further down.
“Are you crazy?” I shouted. “I’m not getting in that thing!”
Leaning over me, he said close to my ear so I could hear over the whirring blades, “You don’t have a choice.”
Snatching me around the waist, Dimitri ducked as he stepped up to the helicopter. Grabbing onto a dangling strap, he stepped onto the skids and vaulted through the gaping doorway with me in tow.
I clung to his neck with my head buried in his shoulder as I felt him wrap a restraint around the both of us. His arm shifted as he banged on the roof. Peeking from behind my now hopelessly tossed hair, I saw the pilot give him a thumbs up before the helicopter rose into the air.
My stomach flipped as I felt the g-force against my body.
Digging my fingernails into the fabric of his suit, I clung to him harder.
The roar of the helicopter drowned out my screams and prevented any conversation, not that I would have been capable of forming words. The cabin of the helicopter bobbed and shifted as we headed downtown at a high speed, skirting over the tops of Chicago’s iconic skyscrapers. Hazarding a peek, I could see the dark waters of Lake Michigan below us as whitecaps crashed onto the rocks.
Oh, God!
Dimitri held me tighter.
Our velocity slowed as we hovered for a moment and then dropped. It suspended us over a residential rooftop. I could see the cold fire pit and the lounge chairs surrounding it. Sticking out from the roof to the right was a small brick building with an entire wall of French doors, which reflected the flashing white, yellow, and green lights of the helicopter.
Dimitri released my harness. “There’s no landing pad. Roof can’t take the weight. Need to jump!” he shouted.
Was he crazy?
As much as I was afraid to get in the helicopter, I was now more afraid to jump out of it.
As the helicopter hovered several feet from the rooftop, Dimitri hopped down first, then turned and held out his arms.
Clinging to the leather bucket seat, I shook my head. There was no way I was doing this.
Shouting over the commotion, Dimitri said, “Trust me, Emma.”
Prying my fingers off the seat back, I shimmied to the edge of the seat and gingerly put the toes of my boots on the landing skids.
“Push yourself away. I’ll catch you.”
Squeezing my eyes tight, I screamed as I pushed my hips against the seat and thrust out from my knees. I was suspended in the air for one terrifying second before Dimitri’s muscular arms wrapped around me like steel bands. Rounding his shoulders, he ducked and swooped around, moving us farther from the already rising helicopter.
The moment we were clear, Dimitri’s hand cradled my skull as he captured my mouth in a soul-searing kiss. The wind from the propellers swept my curls around both of our shoulders as I lost myself in his taste and touch as his tongue swept in to take possession. Moving his hands down, he clasped my jeans-clad bottom and pulled my hips close till the hard ridge of his arousal pressed against my middle.
Thank God he had arrived in time. I didn’t even want to think about what could have happened tonight if he hadn’t found me when he did. I needed to push those horrifying thoughts from my head and focus on the feel of his arms, but it seemed impossible. My mind wouldn’t relent with the terrifying images of what could have been.
The helicopter sped away. A strange stillness settled over the surrounding air. It sounded almost unnatural after so much chaos, noise, and light. As if that and the earlier events should have somehow left their scar on the quiet night.
Dimitri wrapped his hands around my jaw, warming my chilled cheeks. His voice matched the darkness that surrounded us. It was a deep, low growl. “Do you have any idea how angry I am with you?”
I blinked, trying to wrap my mind around the sudden dangerous shift in mood.
I surveyed his face. The sh
adows deepened the sharp planes of his brow and cheekbones giving him an almost sinister appearance. With a gasp, I tried to take a step back. His hands tightened around my jaw before moving to my throat.
“You lied to me.”
I wrapped my fingers around his wrists. “I didn’t mean to. It was a foolish thing to do.”
He nodded slowly, his gaze fixed on my mouth. “Yes, and I’m about to show you just how foolish.”
My heart hammered in my chest. “What are you going to do, Dimitri?”
His hard flinty gaze narrowed. Without saying a word, he took a step back and kept his eyes on me as he reached for his belt buckle.
A traitorous shock of arousal struck between my legs. It was wrong. Twisted.
He slipped the leather belt through his pants’ belt loops. Hooking his foot around the leg of a nearby square glass table, the metal legs screeched along the hard cement rooftop as he pulled it between us. “Lower your jeans and bend over.”
“Dimitri—”
“Now, Emma!”
I jumped at his barked command.
Lowering my head, I stared at the heavy glass surface of the table. I wasn’t seriously thinking about doing this, was I? Lowering my jeans and letting a man belt me like a naughty child?
This was insane.
Probably criminal, even.
“You have a decision to make, Emma. I warned you there would be rules I expected you to obey.”
“Yes, but you never said—”
“I didn’t think I had to mention explicitly that not lying to me was one of the fucking rules,” he growled. “Now you have two seconds to bend over and take your punishment. Trust me, you don’t want to know what happens if you defy me in this.”
My lower lip trembled. Towering over me with his brow lowered and dark eyes filled with anger, he looked terrifying. The angrier he got, the deeper his Russian accent became, which made him even scarier.
With a sob, my hands shook as I felt for the brass button fastening to my jeans.
The metal edge of the cocktail table hit me in the middle as I bent over it. I sucked a breath through my teeth as the frigid glass pressed against my nipples through my thin bra and t-shirt. Reaching back, I grasped the denim over my hips and pushed down till I felt a tight band of material around my upper thighs.