“I gave it to him.” She points at me, eyes accusing, tone full of venom.
“Talk.” Her father’s knife makes a small cut under my eye and blood drips down my cheek.
When the two bodyguards tighten their grip on my arms behind my back, I swallow hard like someone who feels scared and nod as if my throat’s too dry to talk. This too, I learned in Bosnia.
Suddenly, a siren sounds in the distant.
When Sergey’s eyes flicker, I smile. “It could be a fire truck. Maybe, maybe not. Maybe I dialed 911 when I saw you in the parking lot.”
His mouth tightens as he grips the handle of the knife, about to dig it into my skull.
“Maybe you kill me and that disc goes viral. Maybe I told someone to do this small favor for me last night after the party.”
He turns his head to the phony agents while pointing with his knife at Sonia and Leonid, still standing at the door. “Go, and take them with you.”
Leonid grabs Sonia’s arm and they disappear as footsteps sound in the hallway.
That leaves Sergey, me, and her two bodyguards. My gun is still under the newspaper on the bed table.
With the knife away from my eye, I stand and ram my body back hard. The back of my head cracks the jaw of the closest meathead, and his grip loosens. Turning fast, I slam my shoulder right into the other’s solar plexus. They’re both stunned, no doubt expecting my fists to fly.
I kick the skinny one in the head, his eyes roll, and he stops moving. When the other man reaches for his weapon, I dive across the bed with arms stretched forward and grab my gun.
His shot makes feathers fly, mine hits his body, and he goes down.
Fuck it.
Sergey has his gun out and pointing at me. “You have no idea what you’re messing with.”
I stare across the room into his emotionless eyes, knowing mine are the same. “Go ahead. I’m sure when that disc goes viral, we’ll meet in hell.”
He blinks, curses, and walks backwards out the door, barrel pointed the whole time at me. Apparently, he’s smarter than I thought.
The second he’s gone, I call my new lawyer. When there’s no response, I call CJ who tells me to stay put, his brother’s on the way.
Stay put? How the fuck am I supposed to do that when they got Sonia?
I know my career may be at an end when I dial 911 but I can’t let the guy bleeding out on the floor, die. So, I put a pillowcase to his wound and wait while it dawns on me how much Sonia’s gotten under my skin. It’s probably just because she’s in trouble and needs a hero. It’s got nothing to do with the fact she’s so damn beautiful or the way she makes incredible love. It can’t be that for the first time in years, I was happy.
I’m still pressing down on the guy’s chest when the EMT’s show up. There’s two guys in suits behind them. One’s a clean-cut version of CJ, and must be Andy.
After introducing himself, he points to the dark-haired guy. “This is Sean Finnegan. I hired him to be your negotiator.”
“Nice to meet you.” I hold out my hand and shake, expecting to bring him to his knees.
Instead, with an iron grip to match mine, he winks at my surprise.
Andy misses the interaction and points to the two guys getting IV’s attached to their arms. “What went on here?”
“These two? They work for Dmitriyev. They busted through the door chain, tried to beat the shit out of me.” I point to the bullet hole in the mattress. “It was them or me.”
Then I rush to the door. “Hurry. We need to get her.”
“Hold on, you’re not going anywhere.” Sirens outside indicate the cops are almost upon me. No doubt I’m about to get arrested.
“Finnegan, go across to the diner, ask for Deloris. Tell her Kasim sent you. She’ll give you a thumb drive. For God’s sake. Don’t show it to anyone. It’s the only leverage I got to get Sonia back.”
Without a word, the Irishman takes off and I heave a sigh of relief.
Fuck it all. Maybe it’s too late. The cops are here and like the wild west, guns are out and pointed. Me and Andy stand with our hands up while the EMT guys bring the two unconscious men out of the room. There goes my career.
Merde.
I let Andy do my talking until he tells me I can open my mouth.
Finn has disappeared.
And Sonia? I have no fucking idea.
Chapter 10
Sonia
When traffic comes to a dead stop, Leonid walks out onto the highway to the car in front of us where another man stares into the distance. Apparently, there’s some kind of accident and no one’s going anywhere.
That should give me hope that I’ll get rescued in time but after what Kit just said, probably not. I could kick myself for thinking what we had was more than just sex. I’m so damn naïve when it comes to men. I really thought he cared. One lone tear rolls down my cheeks and angrily, I wipe it away.
Then Leonid, sitting back down in the driver’s seat, sneers and says, “Stupid cunt.”
I wonder, can I make a run for it? Surely in America, I can’t be taken out of the country against my will.
“Stay put.” Reading my mind, my fiancé-from-hell grasps my wrist and pain shoots up my arm.
I pull my arm out of his grip, staring back into his icy gaze. What do I care what he’ll do to my body? My soul is shattered.
“Kit Tufek is twice the man you are.”
His jaw ticks and suddenly, a hard fist slams into my upper cheek bone. At first, I’m so shocked I feel nothing. This is followed by searing agony. When my stomach revolts, I open the car door, and puke.
My father approaches, no doubt his car stuck in traffic not far behind. “Control your temper, Leonid. Beat her somewhere less obvious.”
While I wiggle a tooth with my tongue, Leonid whispers in my ear, “When you’re my wife, every night I’ll split you wide with my huge cock until you beg me to stop.”
He’s such a pig that despite the beating I’ll get, I can’t stop myself from responding. “If you ever touch me again, I’ll find a kitchen knife and stab it so deep into your eye socket that what little brains you have, spill out onto your pillow.”
I’ve never spoken so boldly but instead of being afraid, his cock puffs up in his pants. Surely, he’s the devil incarnate.
My father motions Leonid out. “Give us a moment.”
The he slides in beside me, and hands me his handkerchief. “What did you take off my computer.”
“Nothing. I told you. I had to use the bathroom.” I wipe my face, dab the cloth at my lip, my tongue tasting iron.
“What then?” He leans in, studying my face.
“You were shouting so I stayed put. I wanted to wait to talk until you weren’t so angry.” I stare straight ahead at the dashboard, gaze firm.
His voice is hard. “Smart. And?”
“Nothing.” I venture a glance at his face. Big mistake. Shit.
Now, the human lie detector’s eyebrows raise.
Committed, I lie with false bravado. “I headed for the leather couch because I didn’t know how long you’d be.”
A snake about to strike, he watches my every move. “An email was opened.”
“It wasn’t me. I swear, father. Perhaps your assistant –”
“Your fingerprints were on my mouse!” This, he screams into my face.
Holy fuck, I’m so screwed. I had no idea he was so paranoid.
The only out is to admit to some wrong doing, but not all. “Yes, Papa. I saw an email where my name was in the subject so I opened the attachments.”
“Go on.” There’s murder in his eyes and if I had doubts about his true feelings toward me, they’re gone, now.
“I’m sorry, father. I saw nothing other than that.”
“Is that it?”
“Yes. That’s all. I swear it.”
I swallow hard, hoping he doesn’t see through my untruths. If I tell him what else I stole, I’ll surely die in the upcoming flight, my body thrown
into the ocean from thousands of feet up in the air. I’ll be eaten by sharks, my bones picked clean.
His shoulders drop slightly, his breathing evens out, and his jaw muscles relax. Then he opens his computer and turns it around. “You think I got where I am by being stupid? I know you called the FBI, heard you promise to give them information. How was this done?”
My heart pounds in my ears. “I’m sorry, Papa. I just didn’t want to marry Leonid. I, I, I gave a disc to Kit Tufek, last night. I don’t have it.”
“What’s on it?”
“There is an email about Petya.”
“Nothing else?”
“I tried to get more but you had no other incriminating emails and I knew you’d be back soon. You never leave your office for long.” I leave out the long list of computer IP addresses. As a very young girl I learned, if caught, confess to some, not all.
This gives me some comfort as he starts screaming, “You defy me like this? You ungrateful whore!”
His arrow hits straight into my heart. “I don’t care what you say, I will not marry Leonid.”
“It’s all arranged. We’ll hear no more about it or I’ll drop you off in the slums of Moscow, naked. Do you understand me?”
“Yes father.” I nod but that particular threat no longer has any bite. There’s a locker in the city with a set of clothes, a fake passport, and enough money to leave the country. Fuck him, fuck Leonid, and fuck Kit Tufek.
Lowering my gaze to my wringing hands, I wonder how long it’ll take for the USB to get into the hands of the FBI. Surely, Kit will take it to them? Then again, why would he risk my father’s wrath for a good fuck.
When traffic moves again, I vow never to be so stupid as to fall in love again.
Chapter 11
Kit
The police cuff me and usher me into a tiny room with a folding table and plastic chairs. Having watched enough American crime shows, I refuse to say a fucking word until my lawyer arrives. Maybe they don’t watch the same shows because I get grilled for over an hour before they allow Andy in the door. Meanwhile, I clam up and count dots in the tiled ceiling.
Once Andy arrives, I give him the whole, fucked-up story since day one. When he tells me the thug I shot is in serious condition but not dead. I’m not so happy about this news until he reminds me I won’t get charged with murder.
“What about your man, Finn? Did he find the–”
Andy shoots a finger to his lips. Maybe he worries that attorney-client privileges aren’t what they should be?
However, when an officer with a buzz cut enters, my lawyer leans against the wall all casual-like and crosses his arms.
Without introducing himself, a military-looking man points to a chair. “Sit.”
What am I, his mutt?
Andy pushes down on my shoulders, otherwise I would’ve stayed standing, just to piss the buzz-cut off.
Sitting across from me, the man with all the power in the room says, “Okay, you got your lawyer. Now talk. Tell me what happened in the hotel room.”
I respond as Andy told me to just a few minutes before. “Some people bust down my door and take my girl. When one shoots, I fire back. Otherwise I’d be dead, eh?” The last part is my own embellishment.
“Is your weapon registered?” Stupid people ask such stupid questions.
“You already know dis, so why you askin’?”
Andy taps my shoulder.
Fuck. I forgot. I’m supposed to be polite.
Buzz-cut leans in, clear hazel eyes boring into me. “So, what’s your issue with the man you shot?”
This isn’t my first rodeo so this asshole doesn’t phase me. “He tried to kill me and I didn’t want to die.”
The man rubs his face with his hands. “I mean before the incident. Had you met him before?”
I glance up and Andy who shakes his head in the negative.
“My lawyer is advising me not to say nothing. Now, it’s my turn to ask a question. Did you get Sonia? Is she safe?”
“Sorry. This is an ongoing investigation.”
“Then I say nothing.” Fuck him.
“I thought you said you’d cooperate?” His sharp eyes narrow and his mouth tightens.
“And I thought you wouldn’t be a complete dick.”
He shrugs, acts like he’s about to go but Andy jumps in, “My client’s obviously worried about his girlfriend’s safety. He’s a victim, not a criminal. Surely, you can give him some reassurance.”
Finn ponders this for what may be seconds but for me, is a lifetime. What if her father or Leonid killed her?”
“She’s safe.”
I let go my breath and dig my palms into my stinging eyes. “Can I talk to her?”
“No.”
So begins a grueling twelve hour session. When it’s done, Andy’s suit is crumpled and there’s enough coffee cups and wrappers on the floor to start a small bonfire. My saving grace is the guy I shot has a rap sheet a mile long. I guess that’s why they let me go with a warning not to leave town.
I’ve learned my negotiator likes to be called Finn. He’s waiting by his car, outside the station, just as the sun peeks over the horizon.
Me and Andy shake his hand, then I ask, “You get the drive?”
He pats his pocket. “I did. Worth a lot of money, me boyo. A lot of governments would love to get their hands on that.”
“And Sonia. Is she safe?”
“She’s inside. Shortly after you arrived, they brought her in, along with her father and a few others.”
“Can you use that drive to negotiate her freedom? I’ll pay whatever it costs.”
“Piece of cake.” He smiles and hands me his car keys. “Go home. We got this covered.”
Back at my apartment, I grab my hockey stick and bounce a puck on it while pacing, too tired to sleep. Her laugh resonates in my head and her face floats in the air in front of me. I don’t fucking get it. No one falls stupid in love, overnight. No one of sound mind and especially not me.
So why the fuck do I feel like I’m the one who got shot?
Chapter 12
Sonia
When we turn off the highway toward the airport exit, my life flashes through my head; the trophies, the disappointments, the falls and the jumps. What hurts most is not my impending death, it’s Kit Tufek. His last words cut through me repeatedly, digging into my stupid heart. How had I let this happen? I wish I could go back in time and had never walked behind my father’s computer.
And now? Because of me, Kit’s probably dead. My father doesn’t leave loose ends.
My throat clogs and tears drip down my cheeks. What does it matter, if I cry now? I’ve tried and lost. Women like me were never meant for freedom. I’m a pretty skating doll with a pasted-on smile.
Too soon, we rush across the tarmac to where my father’s pilot waits next to the private jet. Suddenly, sirens scream and police cruisers skid to a stop outside the airport. My father, walking up the stairs just behind me, curses and tries to push me into the cabin.
“Nyet!” I’ve only got seconds. Jet engines roar to life, their heat pouring onto my face.
With all my strength, I hold onto the railing, jerk the back of my head into his jaw, and I take my heel to his groin. Eyes shocked, holding his dick he tumbles onto the blacktop while policemen run forward. When their guns come out, I raise my arms high. They won’t even let me explain and insist on taking me back to their station. I’m led down a dingy hall with five shut, gray metal doors. Behind one, Kit’s angry voice shouts.
He’s alive? I drop to my knees, my stupid heart giving way. He may not love me but my whole world is in there.
“Kit?” I yell and he doesn’t hear.
Later, I’m ushered into another room where I sit alone for hours. Eventually, a woman comes into the room, offers me a burger, and asks if I want a lawyer. What for? I did nothing wrong so I tell her the sad story of my life. This takes many hours because she interrupts constantly.
I
guess she figures I’ve had enough talking when I fall asleep with my head in my hands on the table.
Sometime later, I hear two men arguing about rights and claiming to be my lawyers. Odd country, America. But I’m too tired to figure it out. Hopefully, I can go home.
Someday, if I’m lucky, my heart will heal. Until then, I know what to do.
I’ll simply skate.
Chapter 13
Kit
One week later, I miss an easy shot and my trainer, Jack, shouts across the ice, “Where’s your head?”
“Why you givin’ me shit, eh? I told you, I haven’t been sleeping so good.” I don’t tell him how her face haunts me, her sweet voice rings inside my head, and my chest hurts most the time.
“Don’t tell me you’re still mooning over that figure skater.” He rushes across the rink, turns fast, and sprays me with ice.
“C’est stupide, non?” I wipe my face and shrug.
“Yeah, it’s stupid. Do whatever it takes and put her out of your head and get back in the game.”
He’s right. I worked damn hard to get where I am. Yet after an hour, even after water drips off my chest and my t-shirt is soaked, I still see her. She’s wearing my white dress shirt and heels, just begging to be fucked. I want her so bad, I’m a mess.
A puck comes out of nowhere, hits me in the chin, and stings like hell.
“In the game, Tufek.” Jack gives me a disgusted look and I rush across the ice clenching my stick, ready to show him and myself, I’m worthy of being a Ranger.
After that, it’s weights, footwork, and a shower.
Every day, I surf social media in the wee hours of the morning. Staring at the familiar Facebook photos. I’ve tried to friend her, tried to find her number, and even hired Andy to talk to her for me.
There’s no other way around this. I need to go overseas and get her back.
Even though it’s late, I call my assistant. “Hey Maddie, can you book me a hotel with facilities and some rink time? In Moscow. Tomorrow.”
“Are you serious? Do you know what time it is?”
“Sorry. Listen. I promise, after dat, if she doesn’t want me, I’ll give up. Book me back on the eleventh. I need a couple days to recoup before training camp.
The CEO's Lucky Charm: A Billionaire Novella (Players Book 6) Page 15
