by Tara Brown
It was a man, one I recognized from the billiards room. Silently, I put down one knife and lifted the other to his jawline as I rested a hand over his mouth, dragging the blade across his throat. His eyes shot open with his mouth but only gasping and gurgling was audible as the blood drowned him.
I checked the bathroom and closet, finding nothing.
Quickly, I cleaned the knife on the bed and stole his clothes from the floor. His tee shirt smelled nice, cologne and the scent of a man.
His pants didn't fit me but the long tee shirt was better than the toga.
Leaving the room, I listened again for anyone or anything.
But silence prevailed.
Making no noise at all, I crept to the next room to find it empty. I continued along until I found a room with someone in it. A woman with dark hair was asleep in the bed. The light in the bathroom was on and the door was closed. Ignoring her, I crept to the door, opening it to find the Brute on the toilet. He stared at his phone, playing a game perhaps.
I closed the door and left the room.
There was no way I was winning a fight against the Brute. And he had never done anything to me, so I left it at that.
With the decision to find Saransk before this got out of hand and I was killed and unable to complete my mission, I turned and headed to the left wing.
I found a large office with computers.
“Evie?” a whispered voice spoke into the night.
I spun, finding Luce behind one of the desks.
“Luce!” I almost shouted and hurried to her. I hugged her tightly, wincing when her arms touched my ribs. “You’re okay?”
“I’m fine. Apparently, my outfit was bulletproof. No one bothered to tell me that.” She rubbed her chest lightly. “Still hurts but I’m alive. Servario shot me twice and made it look like I died. But when I woke up I realized there was a thin blood bag built into my costume, making my boobs look bigger, and bulletproof padding, and I was here, in the office.” She pointed at the computers. “Jack has the entire security system down and he’s all hooked in. We can leave as soon as you’re done.”
“Where’s Mom?”
“Getting a helicopter. She said she knew where to find one and we’re supposed to meet her in a field. I was supposed to wake Servario and then you in twenty minutes. She said you needed to sleep before you killed anyone else. You had no idea about this plan, did you?”
“No. The creepy shower beating was not on the menu as far as I was told.” I sounded bitter and yet withheld the worst of it to spare her.
“Jesus.” She cringed as she lifted a finger and traced something on my cheek in the silvery light. “I can’t believe they fucking set us both up.”
“I know. Fucking Servario and my mom and Elise. They were all in on it. Anyway, I’m going to kill Saransk. I need him dead and I want to go home. I want this over. I want to see my kids and take a shower with bleach and spend a couple of days on a sun chair with glasses and a sun hat and a margarita.”
“Okay. Me too. Hurry.” She did a once-over of my body and the knives. “You okay to do this?”
“Fine,” I growled as I hurried from the office. It was the truth. I had something better than fitness or ability. I was pissed right off.
There were only two doors in the left wing’s hallway and they were spread quite far apart.
I assumed this was the master wing of the house.
The first door led to a servants’ room connected to a spa-like bathroom, massage tables, and a huge wooden sauna.
From there I crept through a door leading into another bathroom and a dressing room. There were no women’s clothes in here.
There was a large room with chairs and displays of jewelry, all encased in glass.
Beyond that was another sitting room with chaises and large windows where the moonlight shone in.
From there I entered a huge bedroom the size of a ballroom. A massive canopy bed sat at the far end. I crossed the room, staying in the shadows opposite the huge windows.
Two blondes, both similar-looking to his daughter I’d met in England, slept on either side of Saransk.
It took multiple moments for me to realize what was happening.
These were his daughters.
Adult daughters.
Sleeping in his bed.
What the actual fuck was wrong with people?
14
Hellfire
The twisted plan to violently kill Saransk hadn’t come out of nowhere.
It had started humbly, born from the desire to listen to screaming, combined with possibly cleansing the earth of this type of debauchery. And what cleansed better than fire?
James’ mother and her little friend and that poor guard had been one type of “why, God, why?” This was a whole other thing. Not only did they live a life of incest, they ran brothels using teenagers for sex slaves.
They deserved everything that was coming their way.
I’d finished my evil plan twenty minutes earlier and now sat across from them, about ten feet from the end of the bed, in a lush chair, staring and trying to talk myself out of burning them alive.
I didn't have an argument for why I shouldn't. Images of my two kids haunted me as I sat there, conflicted about doing something so despicable I wasn't sure I would recover from it.
Saransk moaned a little and stretched, rubbing a hand over one of the women. Daughters. Daughter women.
I shuddered.
They were all naked.
I had ideas on how a family got to a place like this, but I wasn't entertaining any of them. I didn't need to use my imagination to figure out how they discovered incest.
And of course these women who had spent their formative years like this had zero issue torturing other young women.
Maybe they saw it as a form of payback to God for allowing what they had endured to go on. As if luring helpless young children into brothels was somehow repayment for their hardships.
Holding the matchbox in my hands, the matchbox I had searched high and low for, only to find it downstairs next to a giant bottle of lighter fluid, I cleared my throat. We needed to get on with it before I lost my nerve or fell asleep.
“Maria,” Saransk uttered, saying his ex-wife’s name aloud.
“No, darling.” I smiled as I spoke, “It is I, the ghost from the torture dungeon, come back to haunt you.”
“Serine?” He sat up.
“Jesus, Saransk. How many women have you tortured down there? It’s me, Evie.” I lit the match, letting its light shine on my face as if this was campfire time and I was telling a scary story. “You’re gross. Shame on you.” I tossed the match, illuminating his face enough to see it change as he lifted a damp hand to his nose and smelled as a small fire started in front of him on the bed.
His eyes widened as he was about to scream when I struck the next match and tossed it onto the bed.
I tossed another on the floor, where I’d poured the fire starter I found near the real wood-burning fireplace. It ignited and created a wall of fire around them. I backed away, tossing more matches into the flames, creating sparks all over the bed and floor.
The girls woke as the flames kissed their pale skin.
Screams started to fill the air, and unlike him, I didn’t enjoy it. They were terrible people who had earned every one of those screams and the agony they suffered, but I still didn't want to listen to it. I wasn't as cruel as I had imagined I might be.
I backed up farther, lighting the second, third, and fourth rings I had created around the bed, and left the room.
From the hall I watched as Saransk, who was fully engulfed in flames, tried to get off the bed. He screamed in agony but he was drenched in fire starter. As was the bed. The more he moved, the more places caught fire. He fell to the ground as his daughters stood, also in flames, and shrieked.
It was a weird sight, I could say that. Three fiery people struggling to move and stand and get the fire out but everything surrounding them was coa
ted in flammable liquid.
I closed the door and dashed down the hall, forcing myself to forget about the injuries trying to slow me down. “We gotta go now,” I called softly to Luce as I jogged past the office.
“Coming.” She hurried after me. “We have to tell S.”
“No!” I was absolutely not helping him. I rushed down the stairs to the front door, pausing when I recalled all the guards outside, the heavily armed guards. “Shit! Where is he?”
“Upstairs.” She pointed and turned and ran back up.
Smoke began to fill the left side of the house, escaping from under the door.
We ran down the right side, not making noise.
When we reached a room I hadn’t checked, Luce cracked the door open slightly. As she leaned in, I saw Elise and Servario in bed together.
“Servario,” Luce whispered.
“What is it?” he asked, sitting up.
“The house is on fire. We have to go.”
His eyes darted to mine as disappointment filled them.
“Hurry up!” I demanded, using the same tone he always saved just for me.
He shot up from the bed. Elise’s eyes didn't meet mine as she got up and pulled on a dress.
“She’s not coming.” I pointed at Elise. “She is not coming on the helicopter. We’ll get you out of the compound, but you’re on your own.”
She wrinkled her forehead and parted her lips to argue but stopped herself.
“Not now, Evie,” Servario barked.
“No.” I refused to back down.
“Do we have guns?” Luce asked, ignoring me.
“Downstairs in the room before the garage, there’s an armory.”
“Let’s go.” Luce nodded her head toward the hall.
I followed, not wanting to stay and hang with the happy couple anyway.
I hated him and her.
I hated myself.
I hated Saransk.
I kinda hated my mom too.
There was still a little shock in the fact she’d known we would be taken hostage.
Whose mother did things like that to them?
No one.
It was weird. I wouldn't have done that to my kids. Ever.
I hoped my kids would be smarter than I was and not get into this sort of situation.
The light of recognition clicked on.
My mom must have hoped I was smarter. She’d tried to convince me to quit. She’d tried to get me to leave, begged me not to join. Pleaded with me not to go after Saransk.
And now that I had, she did what she could to keep me alive, including letting people torture me.
I refused to acknowledge that common sense as we crept into the dark armory.
“I can’t believe the smoke alarms haven’t gone off yet,” I whispered to Luce.
“Oh, Jack took those out first, just in case you did something crazy.”
“And she did do something crazy,” Servario said with a breathy whisper as he caught up. “I told you I would get you out.”
“Fuck you,” I said flatly and took a nice black AKM assault rifle from Luce.
“Evie,” he warned.
“Don't Evie me, Gustavo. You’re an asshole.” I walked past him to the garage and pressed the button on the door, not waiting for anyone else or even thinking it through.
As one of the doors began to lift, I hurried to the corner and waited. I held my gun out, and the moment it was up, I ducked out, scurrying along the ground, keeping low and searching out the men.
As I rounded the far corner of the house to the front yard, the screaming and shouting of men caught my ears. They were panicking about the flames that had broken the glass and were now spreading like wildfire.
The Brute came bursting through the front door, shouting and rushing the gates. He screamed at the men, waving his arms.
I slunk back, sensing the presence of someone else behind me. I spun, feeling the look of disgust cross my face when I saw Servario.
“Let’s go.” He grabbed my arm and pulled me back into the garage and took my gun. He pushed me into the Hummer Luce and Elise were already inside of. “Get down in the back,” he shouted at me and closed the door before climbing into the driver’s seat.
The engine roared when he started it and pulled forward, unrolling the window as one of the guards came to greet us. It was the kind one who had showed me a sliver of mercy before. “I can’t be here when the politsiya show up, it will create more problems,” Servario said softly, likely speaking English for our benefit. “I’ll notify the pozharnik on my way out.”
The guard replied in Russian, shaking his head and pointing at the house. My stomach turned as I watched through the small crack between the seats, certain the man was suggesting Servario had started the fire or that he would need to stay until the police arrived. But he slumped as he spoke, still shaking his head. It was obviously more out of defeat than anything.
Servario responded in Russian, slapping a hand on the man’s shoulder, “I’m sorry, my friend.” He waved as we drove away, leaving the guard seeming dismayed. He turned back to the fire where everyone around him was panicking and shouting.
Servario sped off, driving faster and faster as we made our way down the long driveway to the next guardhouse. The lone guard waved Servario off without stopping us.
It wasn't at all how I imagined we would get out of there, not slightly. It was far better.
And though I had the justice I wanted, I didn't feel satisfied.
I told myself that the broken ribs, sore hand, and aching body staved off my joy. But I suspected it was a lack of enjoyment from the twisted circumstances I had found. Those images I saw, and the ones my mind would create from the scene I found in Saransk’s bedroom, would haunt me for a long time.
I needed to realize nothing would ever be what I expected.
And his daughters, though cruel and disgusting, were products of their environment. A sad fact that injured me now more than I had expected it to.
15
Flew the Coop
“How are they?” I asked Mom flatly, ignoring the pleas in her stare to talk about the Saransk situation. Asking about my children was as far as I was going with her and only because I didn't have a phone.
“They’re doing fabulous. They’re having a blast with Fitz. He took them to the movies and Highclere Castle. Neither of them knew what Downton Abbey was, of course, but they enjoyed it nonetheless. Honestly, they didn't notice we were gone.”
“Someone else did though.” Luce handed me her phone. I scanned the dozens of death threats from a number I had to assume was Coop’s as she bandaged my hand. “Jack said he basically had to restrain him so he didn't come and find us.”
“Oh good.” It really was the shit icing I needed to top the cake made of bullshit, torture, and broken hearts. Angry Coop was the best. “Maybe he’ll calm down by the time we get there,” I said, making Luce snort.
“Yeah, not likely. I did speak to Jack though before we took off. He confirmed what S said, the chopper is at some small airstrip out of the city waiting for us. And Coop is waiting at the house for us. He left Simone in the city and drove out there. I imagine that looked like something from a Bond movie.” She winced.
“Darling, you can’t stay angry at me forever,” Mom cut in. “How could we have possibly told you two the plan? You never would have agreed and we needed a genuine reaction from you. Saransk would have spotted a setup from a mile away. You would’ve been tense or killed people before it was time. And you will recall, I tried to talk you out of this. I have repeatedly tried to convince you to leave this line of work. This is why.”
“You hear something, Luce? Someone speaking?” I pretended I didn't hear her. I wasn't talking about this again. And I wasn't getting past it. I was pissed. Even if it made no sense to them.
“Nope.” Luce crossed her arms. She was equally angry. Once we met my mother and the chopper in the field, Luce and I had unleashed our rage, shouting at
the rest of them for double-crossing us and not bringing us into the story they had created. Servario had ignored us while Mom tried to calm us down and Elise apologized profusely. But we weren’t getting past it.
“You two are ridiculous.” Mom sighed, annoyed. “Absolutely childish.”
Servario came out of the cockpit and glanced my way. “Follow me.” He pointed at the dressing room in the back and kept walking, assuming I would come with him.
I contemplated not going but knew I risked being dragged from my chair and forcibly brought there. Either way, I would be going to the back of the plane.
Grumbling internally, I got up and headed to the salon, taking my sweet time. My body was tense, still sore, and my heart was icy. And worse, I was annoyed that we’d ended up with Elise on the plane, though she had been silent and kept to herself since I raged on her in the field and called her a whore.
When I reached the dressing room, his back was to me, stiff and broad. His right hand was balled in a fist. There was no way I could fight him, not in this shape. I braced to dodge whatever he was about to do. But he spun too quickly, grabbing me and pulling me into his arms. My hands came up to fight, but he bear-hugged me, squeezing and smelling my hair in deep gusts of desperation as I whimpered from the shooting pain. “You will never do that to me again.”
“Do what?” I gasped, lost in the agony of my ribs and wondering if I had missed some part of the conversation.
“Ask me to put you in situations where you are harmed like that.” He placed hard kisses on my head, pausing and nodding as if in a conversation with himself.
His words slowly filtered into my mind, mixing with my thoughts until I finally understood what he’d just said. “Excuse you?” I pulled back, wincing at the smarting.
“We’re out of Russian airspace, we did it,” he said in a soft tone, ignoring my annoyance. “I don't know if I’ve relaxed since we landed in Russia. I can’t believe we pulled it off.”
“Okay wait.” I held a hand up and shook my head, unsure what was going on, but sure as fuck I wasn't letting this be the first conversation we had since the shower. “Back the bus up.”
