by Fox, Winter
I knew that he’d remember. We had gone skiing in the mountains of Austria with our parents, followed by a week spent in Vienna—exploring. I had fallen in love with the beauty of the city, even as a child. The open courtyards of the Hofburg palace, the beautiful buildings which were like something from the pages of a fairytale book, and the twisting cobbled streets which pulled me back into a time before cars, and cell phones.
I had fallen in love.
“Vienna.” He knew exactly where I was thinking of. “Of all of the places in the world that we could go to? You’re sure that’s your choice, Liss?”
“I’m sure,” I confirmed.
“Then Vienna it is, little sorella. Can I do anything to help you right now?”
My finger absently played with a loose strand of cotton which had frayed from the bedding. “No, I don’t think so, Alessio. I know it’s hard for you to believe, but he is looking out for me right now. Please try to trust him a little.”
He sighed. “I trust you, Liss. Which is the only reason why I’m going to try and trust whichever one of those assholes is helping you. Okay?”
“Okay,” I whispered. “Um, I should go, Alessio.”
“Are you all right?” His voice was tense again.
I looked toward the bedroom door. “Yes, I’m fine. But he’s waiting for me, and we have a lot to discuss.”
“Is this his phone?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, I’ll store the number. If you need me, call me.”
“I will.”
“I mean it, Liss. If you’re in trouble, or if this dick screws you over, you call me right away. I will come for you.”
That was exactly what I was afraid of.
“I will, I promise.”
“I love you, sorella.”
“I love you too. Say hi to Matteo for me.”
“Of course. Bye, Liss.”
“Bye, Alessio.”
I hung up, surprised to discover that I didn’t feel as sad as I had expected to after saying goodbye to Alessio. I tapped the phone against my chin for a moment, and pondered my decision to go to Vienna. I wondered if Ilya would agree, and if he would come to Vienna too. Or whether he and I would part ways once we had worked together to ensure that our families were safe.
Unable to answer my own question, I headed out of the bedroom, and jogged downstairs, following the delicious aroma of breakfast.
26
Liss
I padded into the kitchen with my stomach growling, and for a moment I was stunned to see Ilya making pancakes on the counter top cooker. Looking around quickly I realized that the housekeeper was nowhere to be seen, and I quirked an eyebrow at him.
“Are you cooking?”
He grinned, and once again I was struck by how boyishly handsome his face was when he smiled.
“Mariusz must have given Eliza some time off since he’s away. It wasn’t going to cook itself, milaya.”
I grinned back at him, and perched on a barstool at the front of the kitchen island which Ilya was currently cooking on. This gave me a birds-eye view of everything that he was doing. And I was pretty certain that it made him a little nervous.
There was a steaming pot of fresh coffee waiting on the counter, and I gratefully took it to pour myself a large mug.
“Do you want coffee?” I asked him.
“Sure.” He looked up from his cooking. “Blueberry pancakes okay for you?”
I poured his coffee, and pushed it across the counter to him, nodding to let him know that blueberry pancakes would be great.
“How did Alessio take your news?” Ilya served up three perfect looking pancakes on to a plate, and passed them to me as he spoke.
I took the plate, and shrugged. “He’s worried about me. He knows I wouldn’t have asked to run if everything was all right here.”
“You didn’t tell him too much, did you, milaya?” Ilya served his own pancakes just as I took my first bite of breakfast.
“Wow, these are delicious,” I mumbled around a mouthful of blueberry heaven. “No, I told him just enough, and I didn’t tell him about you.” I felt my face redden as I remembered Alessio telling me to stay away from the Lieutenant.
He nodded. “Good. It’s going to take a hell of a lot of trust between you and me over the next few days. Better not to ask your brother to place his trust in me too.”
“You know, you weren’t there on the night that my parents were killed. If anything, you should be the one that Alessio hates the least.”
He snorted laughter. “Even if he does hate me the least, he still hates me, Liselle. We’re never exactly going to be friends, are we?”
I met his angry liquid gaze, and I wanted to cower in fear from what I saw there. Ilya was caught up in a constant circle of believing himself to be evil, then acting evil, and I knew that he was somehow trying to validate who and what he was.
“I don’t hate you,” I said, softly.
He finished his last pancake, and grabbed my own empty plate from the counter. Sending them into the sink with a clatter so loud I was convinced that they had broken. Then turning to face me, he pinned me with his black glare.
“Circumstance was what kept me away from your house on that night. Nothing more. As Mariusz’s Lieutenant I was chomping at the bit to be let loose on your fucking family. If there had been any way that I could have ensured I was along for the ride, I would have put bullets in both of your parents. And I would have fucking enjoyed it.”
The callous way he spoke of killing my family made my breath catch in the back of my throat. I leaped from the barstool, and backed away from him toward the door.
“I think you might just be the worst person I’ve ever met, Ilya. I was in your bed an hour ago, and you talk about killing my parents as though it’s fucking sport. I keep trying to see the good person inside of you—especially now that I know what you’ve been through. But I can’t, not when you act that way.”
“And you’ll go back to my bed again tonight. You don’t have to like a person to want to fuck them, milaya.”
He took a step toward me, his eyes flashing angrily. And I was sure in that moment that if he got a hold of me, he would hurt me. I still had my empty coffee cup in my hand, and I threw it at him now; aiming for his head.
He used his arm to deflect the cup, and roared in anger; but I was already out of the door and halfway up the stairs by the time he ran from the kitchen.
“Get your fucking ass back here, now.” He took the stairs two at a time, and I fought to increase my pace.
My mind was racing, but I was almost certain that I had seen a bolt on Mariusz’s door. I headed for his room, hoping that I would beat Ilya there in time to lock it.
I could hear him right behind me now, but I could also see Mariusz’s door along the hall. Putting all of my energy into one last burst of speed, I fell through the door—slamming it shut behind me, and snapping the bolt into place. I leaned against the door, panting in fear and exhaustion.
When Ilya’s shoulder slammed against the wooden paneling I shrieked and jumped back from the door.
“Open the door, Liselle.” It wasn’t a request.
“No.”
“Please? I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lost it like that, but you have to understand that I have a temper. It’s what makes me who I am.”
I wanted to tell him to “fuck off” but I didn’t; instead I leaned back against the door, imagining that he was doing the exact same thing. Our heads only separated by the thickness of the wood.
“No, Ilya. That’s half of who you are. The other half of you is different.”
“Different how?” His voice sounded pained, and I desperately wanted to open the door and go to him. But he needed to cool off first.
“The other half of you tried to warn me about Mariusz before I arrived here. It tried to comfort me when he was raping me. And the other half of you is the half which promised to help me to escape this place.”
I heard a
shift against the door, and I smiled as I realized that he had been leaning against it—maybe even in the way that I had imagined
“I’m not good, milaya. I never will be.”
I turned to face the door, placing my hands against the rough wooden grain. “No, you’re not,” I admitted. “That’s why I’m keeping this door locked right now, Ilya. I’m going to try and get some rest, without any distractions. I think I need that right now. But there is good in you somewhere, and that’s why I’ll come out and find you later, when I’ve had some time to myself. Okay?”
He was quiet for a moment, and I wondered if he would still shout at me to open the door. He didn’t. “Take all the time you need, milaya. I’ll be waiting when you’re ready to come out.”
I was almost sad when I heard his footsteps fading down the hall.
* * *
Mariusz had a surprisingly vast collection of books in his room, and I spent fifteen minutes searching through the selection of titles on his tall bookcase until one caught my eye. I almost laid down on the bed to read, but when I approached the scene of my attack I shuddered—I couldn’t do it.
Instead I chose to lay down on the black couch, I had to curl my legs up to fit properly, but that was okay. It somehow made the precious time alone feel more intimate, more private.
Usually I could read for hours without pause, but on this occasion I must have fallen asleep, because I was suddenly jolted from a particularly pleasant dream of Vienna. Waking to a dimly lit room.
I found my way back to consciousness just as my ears picked up a long, chilling howl of agony. Sitting up quickly, I glanced around the room fearfully—the only people in the house were Ilya and me. All of Mariusz’s other men had been given time off while their leader was away.
I listened hard, trying to work out where the sound had come from and who was making it, when I suddenly heard a raucous cackle, and I cringed as I recognized it as Mariusz’s laughter.
Mariusz is back?
I didn’t understand. He was supposed to be away for three days, and it had only been one.
Gripped by a sudden terror of him finding me in his bedroom—and thinking that it was an invite to hurt me—I leaped to my feet and quietly opened the door. I checked the hallway was clear before stepping out into the gloom, and silently padded to the top of the stairs.
Another anguished howl found its way to my ears, and I paused, anxious for both myself and Ilya. Wondering what the hell was happening downstairs, I started down the steps slowly. My eyes constantly darting from side to side, looking out for an attack. Not that I would be able to do very much to protect myself if I did run into trouble.
Reaching the ground floor, I took a moment to try and calm my erratic breathing and my pounding heart. I could hear voices as well as laughter now, and I became sure that Mariusz and his men had all returned from Colombia.
I checked a couple of the main rooms, but I could quickly see that they were all in relative darkness. The only bright light was coming from the door which led to the basement area. Taking a deep breath, I approached the glowing doorway.
Every sense in my body was screaming at me to run back upstairs to Ilya’s room and hide. Or even better to get to the front door, and leave this whole hideous house. I owed Ilya nothing, and there was no escaping the fact that he had done some awful things in his past.
But I couldn’t just forget the fact that he had agreed to help me to escape from Mariusz. And that meant I couldn’t abandon him.
I quickly crossed the room—before I changed my mind—and started down the steps into the light. The screaming sounds which had woken me up had faded into muted whimpers, which were somehow more unsettling than the howling.
The stairs curved around a corner, and I pressed my back against the wall to try and peer around without being seen by whoever was down there. What I saw there made my breath catch in my throat.
Carlos Ruiz was tied to a chair in the center of the room, surrounded by Mariusz and every member of the Five—except for Anatoli. The men were sitting down, unsurprisingly drinking from the bottle, all apart from Ilya.
The Lieutenant was standing in front of a terrified looking Ruiz who was battered, bruised, and dripping in his own blood. Ilya had a wickedly sharp looking knife in his hands, and it too was tainted by Carlos’s blood.
“Come on, Lieutenant, put some fucking effort in,” Mariusz’s eyes were filled with a hungry blood-lust as he leaned forward in his chair. If he had looked crazy before, tonight he was terrifying.
In response Ilya stalked slowly toward a whimpering and begging Ruiz. I couldn’t see the Lieutenant’s face because he had his back to me, but I was horrified by the look that I imagined I would find in his eyes if I could see them.
Without pausing Ilya drove the point of the knife into Carlos Ruiz’s shoulder, pushing harder and harder until the entire blade had slid into the wailing man’s body. I closed my eyes against the wave of sickness which welled up inside me, as I watched the river of blood which began to pour from the wound.
How did I ever believe that this man was anything other than evil?
I had seen enough. Ilya didn’t need my help, he was clearly more than capable of looking after himself. And I wasn’t sure that I needed help from someone like him any longer anyway. I turned away from the appalling scene, and walked straight into Anatoli’s hard muscled chest.
Fuck, I should have remembered that this one was missing from the party.
“We wondered where you were?” He looked down at me inquisitively.
I tried to push past him, but it was useless. He gripped my shoulders with both of his large hands—turning me around to force me to continue watching the spectacle below.
Pressing himself against my back, Anatoli whispered in my ear. “Not the fucking hero you thought he was, your Lieutenant. Is he?”
“Let me go,” I whispered. Desperate to avoid being seen by the other men.
Anatoli shook his head, and tightened his grip on my shoulders. “No. Mariusz wants you to watch your lover at work. Doing what he truly enjoys.”
Knowing that I wasn’t going anywhere until Anatoli let me go, I stopped struggling. Swallowing back the bile which rose at the back of my throat, I watched in horrified hypnosis as the man whose bed I shared worked at his torture.
27
Ilya
Ilya had been sitting in the kitchen nursing a bottle of vodka after his confrontation with Liselle. He knew that he had frightened her, and he was sorry about it. But that didn’t change the fact that he hadn’t been able to control his temper, he had always had anger issues.
He suspected that he always would.
He made some calls while he suspected she was sleeping. Speaking to his contacts in Yakutsk, he told them they’d fucked up and been seen. He also affirmed just how lucky they were that they hadn’t been taken out one by one after Mariusz discovered exactly what they were up to.
A new plan was tentatively agreed upon, and a new anticipated date to extract his family was set.
“I’m sorry we’ve let you down, Ilya.” Boris’s raspy voice was apologetic as the men said goodbye.
“Just get my family out, Boris. Do that for me, and I will forever be in your debt.” Ilya’s voice was strained.
“You owe me nothing, my friend. I am simply paying off my debt to you.”
“Thank you, Boris.” Ilya hung up, and rubbed at his temples. He had the beginnings of a stress headache.
He knew Boris would do everything in his power to protect Ilya’s family. The debt to which he had referred was an incident that had occurred while both men were resident in one of the training camps which Mariusz had so liked to send Ilya to. Ilya had saved Boris’s life, and in doing so he had killed the man who wanted Boris dead.
Boris had had a much easier ride in that camp because of Ilya’s actions, and he had sworn to repay the debt. That was the only reason Boris was in Yakutsk with his men right now. No matter how hard the Lieutenant
found it to trust other people, he did believe that Boris would give his own life to get Ilya’s family safe.
Something that Ilya couldn’t do by himself, right now.
He found himself feeling strangely lost over the next few hours. Wandering from room to room, and hoping that Liselle would wake up soon. He tried to persuade himself that he just wanted to use her beautiful body again. But if he was honest with himself, he missed her company too.
He finally settled down in the basement; idly dealing cards out onto the poker table, and drinking more than was healthy. He wasn’t sorry to drink himself into oblivion, he was worried about so many things right now, that he figured he deserved a few hours off.
After a couple of hours of quiet contemplation, Ilya heard a noise upstairs. Smiling to himself he made his way to the bottom of the steps, about to call up to Liselle that she was a sleepy head.
When Sava appeared at the top of the stairs, dragging a whimpering Carlos Ruiz along with him, Ilya’s words died in his throat. The rest of the Five followed behind Sava, with Mariusz at the rear. Mariusz raised an inquisitive eyebrow as his eyes swept over the single card game, and the lone bottle of vodka.
“By yourself, Lieutenant?”
Ilya nodded. “She’s sleeping.”
Mariusz grinned. “Trouble in paradise already, huh?”
Ilya rapidly changed the subject. For as long as she was upstairs by herself, she was safe, and he didn’t want Mariusz to order one of the others to collect her.
“What are you doing back so early, and with Ruiz in tow?” Ilya gestured at the Colombian as he spoke. Sava and Anatoli were just finishing tying him tightly into a chair. Knotting the ropes brutally around Carlos’s wrists and ankles.
Mariusz took the bottle of vodka which Nikolai offered him, taking a long drink. “I spoke with Dante, and he didn’t like the idea of me talking to Carlos Ruiz. In fact, he didn’t like the idea of Carlos Ruiz being alive at all. So, he asked me to cease negotiations.”
Ilya frowned. “If he wanted you to kill Ruiz why didn’t you just do it in Colombia?”
