by S. C. Ellen
The sound of a camera clicking on has me on high alert. Both men put on masks and dread fills me. I know that whatever is about to happen is going to ruin me forever.
Reality hits me as soon as a red light on the camera turns on, indicating that it’s recording.
“Such a beauty, no? Such a shame she wasn’t more protected. Tsk tsk tsk. You know what they say, Vincenzo, an eye for an eye.” He brings the camera close to my face, and my eyes stay focused downward.
He forcefully grabs my chin, pointing it toward the camera. “Anything to say, my little kukla? Any goodbyes? Or last words? I think you’d like to say something to your little boyfriend, Carson, is it?”
The sound of his name coming out of his mouth almost deters me, but I can’t show any sign of weakness. Especially because I know my loved ones will be watching this, and I want to come out of this showing I was strong not only for my baby, but for myself, as well.
He lowers the camera to my breasts, trapping one in his hands, gripping tightly. “So perfect,” he whispers. Suddenly the only piece of clothing that is shielding me from the prying eyes of these men is cut away and I am on full display.
A low whistle erupts from the men, and my breasts are now being fondled by one of the masked men.
“Nyet! Do not touch just yet, eager one. It is time to play.”
Dmitri keeps the camera cast on me, circling every inch of my exposed body. “What a shame it is going to be when I ruin you, kukla.”
A sliver of fear erupts in me when he grabs my hair from behind, his tongue lazily swiping along my ear. “You are mine to do with as I please, all thanks to your poppa.”
“Please, Dmitri, let me go.” My head is whipped to the side, and pain erupts in my cheek.
“I didn’t tell you to speak, suka.”
I can taste the blood pooling in my mouth from the hard slap. As much as I want to spit it at him, I hold it back in fear of the retaliation.
“Ready to put on a show for our viewers, Alayna?” The way my name rolls off his tongue sickens me.
He sets the camera on a stand, taking a seat beside it, eyes trained right on me like he has front-row tickets to a movie. His men flank either side of me. One of them puts a blindfold over my eyes, and darkness sends my other senses into overdrive.
I hear the sound of metal clanking together, and the laughs of the men around me.
“Make her scream.”
At the command of Dmitri’s voice, the teasing feeling of a blade gently running across my exposed body makes me scream just like he wanted me to.
My voice cracks on another plea. The only thing running through my head is that my innocent baby never even had a chance against this cold, cruel world.
“You know it only excites me more when you beg.”
Another scream erupts when the blade pierces deeply across my left thigh. I can feel the blood running down it, dripping to the floor below.
I can feel a hand smearing my blood over my stomach and breasts.
“Very nice.” Dmitri’s voice is thicker, almost like the sick bastard is turned on by the sight of it.
My arms and legs begin to grow tired and weak as the chains strain against my body, and my head begins to feel a bit fuzzy from the blood loss.
“More,” he commands. “Make her pay for her father’s sins.”
I never wanted to kill someone more than him. One of the masked men yanks my head back by my hair, leaning in close to whisper. I recognize the voice as the soldier from earlier. “You will die, shlyukha.”
“Please, someone help!” The knife cuts right above my breasts, sending more blood pouring down my body.
The blindfold is cut away, and I almost pass out. The sinister sneer that is plastered onto Dmitri’s face is beyond sickening.
“Maybe our audience will enjoy something a little more interesting, no?” Dmitri sounds off another round of orders in Russian, and I am released from the chains binding my arms.
I fall to the ground in a puddle of my own blood. I am pulled by my hair into a sitting position.
Dmitri then grabs my neck in a chokehold, cutting off my air supply as I immediately begin to struggle. “They kill my father, I kill you. It’s only fair, right?”
My mind is going numb, and my body can’t take any more abuse. All I can think about is how sorry I am for my unborn child, and to my family who will have to watch this.
Suddenly, Dmitri releases me, and I’m thrown into a coughing fit trying to inhale as much precious oxygen as I can.
“You are lucky I don’t end you right now, kukla.”
“Coward,” I whisper in between coughs.
“What was that?”
“I said you are a coward.”
If I thought the masked man’s laugh was scary before, nothing prepared me for his. “You never learn with that smart mouth of yours, do you?” He grabs a blade from his own back pocket and presses it against my neck. “I can fix that for you right now.”
Desperation claws its way up my throat, and in a last-ditch effort to stop this torture, I do the unthinkable. I tell him my secret, hoping to God he has some type of morality in his soul and will spare me. Not to mention, it’s caught on camera.
“Please, Dmitri, stop! I’m pregnant!”
Dmitri halts in his tracks, his face turning a deep shade of gray.
He yells out something quickly to his men, and they rush over to turn off the camera.
“If you are lying to me about this pregnancy, I will destroy you in ways that you won’t even believe.”
“I’m not lying, please, Dmitri, send a doctor, I need a doctor before I lose my baby!”
Blood is pooling around me, and I can feel the darkness that is taking me under.
“Blyad! Get the doctor! The suka is pregnant with my child!”
I don’t know if it’s the stupidest thing to do announcing my pregnancy, or the smartest, but all I can think before the darkness overcomes me is that him thinking my baby is his might’ve just saved both of our lives.
Not to mention, my family will find out the hard way about this secret, as well.
Waking up is harder than I thought it would be. My head is pounding, and I have a sore feeling running the entire length of my body. Bright light cascades over me, causing my eyes to squeeze closed again. I think to myself, this is it; they couldn’t save me, and I died, and now I am going toward the light. My poor baby and I didn’t make it, but at least we’re in a better place. Taking a quick look around, I realize I’m not dead, but at least I’m out of the basement. I somehow ended up in a bedroom with pillows piled high around me, in a comfy, king-sized bed.
Movement from the corner of the room catches my attention. Dmitri is sitting on a plush sofa looking disheveled and in need of sleep. Bags are thick under his eyes, and his hair looks like it’s been through the wringer.
He locks eyes with mine. “Kukla.” The nickname he calls me is strained, almost sad. Panic and confusion overcome me thinking about what took place and wondering if my baby is okay.
Please God, let my child be okay.
“T-The baby?” My voice is hoarse, and it feels like knives are cutting into my throat with each word. His expression turns even more solemn.
I hold my breath waiting for the answer.
“I need to know if the baby is mine, Alayna. Spasiba.”
My mind is jumbled, but all I can think of is that I have to know if my baby is still alive. I place my shaky hand across my stomach and close my eyes. “Please, Dmitri, please tell me the baby survived.” Stray tears roll down my face at the thought of losing my whole world.
“Yes, the baby is still alive, kukla. I made sure of it.” The sudden relief that I feel is monumental. I didn’t even realize Dmitri had come to the edge of the bed, kneeling on the floor in front of me.
“I made the doctor give you a pregnancy test, and it came back positive. I asked for a DNA test, but he said you have to be eight weeks along. and if what you are saying is t
rue and the fetus is mine, you are around four weeks.” Suddenly, his eyes turn menacing, “I have reason to believe this baby is not mine, kukla. If I find this is true, I won’t hesitate to kill you both.”
My fight-or-flight senses kick on. “Of course, this baby is yours, Dmitri, the timeline makes sense. I was on birth control when I was with Carson and then I was taken. That was almost four weeks ago.” The lie falls so easily off my tongue, even I’m shocked at how convincing I sound. However, I’m devastated to find out just then exactly how long I had actually been kidnapped for.
“Blyad!” His fist hits the floor beneath him. “The things I had my men do to you… the things I did to you…” He runs a hand down his face. “My child, my only heir I thought I’d never be able to have, almost killed by my own hand.”
I stay quiet next to him, not moving a muscle. He suddenly places a cold hand against my stomach. I wince from his touch and goosebumps rise in disgust across my flesh. “I will make this right, kukla.” And with that he exits the room, leaving me with my thoughts.
Battered and broken, I silently let a few tears slip through. The only light I see at the end of this tunnel is my baby still fighting for its life, and the sick satisfaction I’ll have once I kill Dmitri when he least expects it.
Carson
Murder. Blood. Murder. Blood.
That’s all my life has revolved around for the last four weeks.
“I swear to you, I don’t know where she is!”
“Liar!” I shout, pouring yet another pan of steaming, hot grease over the man’s body. He screams in agony as his flesh is stripped to the bone.
“Please, I beg you for mercy!”
“We have you on camera the night she was taken, you bastard!” Jase strikes the man, almost knocking him out.
Enough with the bullshit, I grab the only device I know will get the truth from him.
The power drill.
The man’s eyes bulge out of their sockets when I turn it on.
“We don’t show mercy to traitors.”
Lance is laid out on a metal table, looking nothing like the man we once knew. I thought of every single fucking gang that would have known of Alayna’s whereabouts and went after them without a second thought, but never did I think I only had to look at one of my own.
“I had to find out from a fucking Mexican junkie that one of my own fucking men turned on us!?” I sought out Fernando first, not only to finish the job we had left, but because I realized that he was in on the set-up that went down at the docks in New York. Little did I know that before I ended the fucking bastard, he would reveal who the rat was in our organization, and who has been working with the Russians all along.
“I’m sorry, Carson, I didn’t mean for this to happen! I didn’t think they would kidnap and torture a pregnant woman!”
The mention of the word “pregnant” triggers my brain into action. One second I’m standing with the power drill, the next second it’s inside Lance’s thigh.
“AHHH! PLEASE, CARSON!”
My mind replays the sick fucking memory of seeing Alayna being tortured by a fucking knife and screaming that she’s pregnant, and Dmitri claim my child, as his.
My drill is aiming for his eyeball next, just inches away.
“Wait! Please! Oh, fuck, wait! I’ll tell you, I’ll tell you everything!!!”
I throw the drill to the floor, forcefully grabbing his chin. “All of it. I want all of the fucking truth.”
I throw his head back, letting it crash on the table, nearly cracking his skull.
Lance’s eyes are bloodshot, pathetic tears running down his traitorous face. “She-she came to me one night after a run.”
“Who came to you.”
“Nina.”
My mind fucking spins.
“The club whore?” Jase speaks up from beside me.
“Don’t call her that!”
Jase grabs onto his injured thigh, gripping it tightly. Lance hisses out in pain. “I can call her whatever the fuck I want if she’s involved in my sister’s abduction, got it?”
“Go on,” I demand, having enough of the bullshit.
“She said that she needed help. That she got involved with a couple of guys who wanted to hurt her if she didn’t deliver intel.”
“So, you thought it would be a good idea to steal our supply and share our information with Nina, so she could tell our fucking enemies?”
“They were going to kill her if she didn’t!”
“And you believed that bullshit?”
“Of-of course, I did. She would never lie to me, we’re in love!”
“You’re fucking delusional! That bitch was obsessed with Carson, and he denied her. You don’t think she wanted fucking revenge?”
“I-I—”
“Where the fuck is Nina now?” I ask, growing deadlier with each passing second.
“I don’t know! She disappeared as soon as she heard you went off the deep end and were killing anyone and everything to get information!”
“Where the fuck did they take Alayna?”
“I don’t know!”
My hand inches for the drill again. “She’s somewhere in Mackinaw! Mackinaw City! Please, Carson, I’m sorry, I never meant for any of this to happen! You guys are my family, you know love makes you do fucked-up things!”
“Yeah, it does. Say hello to Nina for me when you guys find each other in hell.”
“FUCK Y—”
He never gets to finish that sentence, because my pistol goes off, firing its bullets, and killing him mercilessly.
Alayna
Confusion fills the fog in my brain when someone rips away my blindfold. The first sense that hits me straight away is the smell of mold. My eyes shoot up because that stench is only found in the one place where my nightmares recently have taken place. The stench of mold and wet dampness is so ingrained into my memory I could have known exactly where we were, with or without vision.
However, this time, it’s not me who is locked inside a cage like a rabid animal. No. It’s Nina. My eyes widen in surprise. She looks almost unrecognizable by the state she’s in. She’s bruised, beaten, and starved. A shell of the women she once was. Now, a weak lamb, surrounded by the hungry gazes of the world’s worst predators.
I sit as still as I can in the wooden chair I’m placed on in front of the cage. The exact chair that I remember as the one Dmitri sat in while he filmed me and let his men—God, I can’t even finish that memory without having a strong sense of nausea make its way up my throat. Dread fills me at the thoughts of what I could possibly be doing back down here in this godforsaken dungeon, and what kind of sick and twisted game does Dmitri have planned with Nina here. Not to mention, why exactly is she here?
Nina lifts her head slowly, almost painfully. Both of her eyes are dark and swollen beneath them, and she sits stark naked against the bars. Her head bobbles weakly as her eyes fall on mine, squinting together, as a bloody sneer works its way across her face.
“I warned you about what would happen if you crossed me, Alayna.”
My brows furrow, remembering the words she told me the last time I saw her.
It’s not me you should fear.
“You didn’t think I would follow you and tip off those men at the motel that night, did you?”
A memory of the man on the phone flashes through my mind. It was her.
Before I can reply, a hand from a broad soldier snakes its way inside the bars and holds onto Nina’s neck painfully. She writhes against the bars, scratching at his wrists. “You will not speak to her, suka.”
He lets go, and she falls to the floor shakily, sucking in as much air as she possibly can back into her lungs.
Suddenly, footsteps come down the cement stairs, filling the silence, and all heads turn to the archway, including my own.
Dmitri steps into view first, his eyes visibly landing on me. I pay him no mind, as my eyes stay glued onto the second man.
The tension in the ai
r grows thick, and even the men in the room stand respectfully silent as the huge man finally makes his way into the room.
Two things happen just then that have me rooted into frozen fear. One, Nina screams a bloody, ear-piercing shriek at the sight of Maksim Vasiliev, and two, he’s staring directly at me with murder clear in his menacing, dilated eyes.
“Hello, Alayna, I knew I’d see you again. However, I thought it would be in the arms of your boyfriend, the infamous Carson. Not in the arms of your enemies.”
His harsh gaze strikes a chord inside me, especially at the mention of Carson’s name out loud.
Dmitri shakes in anger behind him. “Fuck that Italian imbecile. I will make sure he dies a slow and painful death.”
Maks whirls on him, capturing him in a vice grip. His black eyes dilating even further. “You have done enough. You are lucky I don’t crush you to death with my own bare hands and kill you for starting a war without my permission!”
Dmitri cowers in fear, and disgust rises inside of me. He isn’t a man. Dmitri is a coward. A coward who uses others to instill fear and feed his bruised ego. “But he…he killed my father!”
Maks lets out a humorless laugh that has even the nastiest of bratva men feeling uncomfortable at the sound of it. “Your father was an even bigger mudak than you. He deserved to die, and I too was growing quite impatient with him. Luckily someone got to him before I did.”
Dmitri is growing red with anger, and I can tell he’s trying hard not to snap at his words, but Maks knows. Maks wants him to step out of place. He even encourages it. “Do it. Tell me what you really want to say.” His grip on Dmitri grows tighter, and his eyes glisten with a sickening need to end him, but Dmitri knows better, and eventually bows in defeat.
“Ti durak.” Maks spits, dropping Dmitri to his knees and sending a scathing look his way. “A fool that will get himself and his men killed over his naïve stupidity. For what exactly? A whore? A whore who is now pregnant with a child? She is damaged goods in the eyes of the mafia. She is bratva property now.”
My brows furrow together, remembering what Maks told Carson the night of the Christmas Gala. Did the meeting they had go south? What exactly is Maks playing at?