Going Once, Taken Twice: A Dark Romance

by Claire St. Rose

  But instead, the opposite greeted him.

  Filitov smiled back at him, wiry hair even more tousled than usual, head poking out from behind the sedan parked near the entryway.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Boris froze in the parking lot, glancing at Claudia to make sure she saw the same thing. That it wasn’t just the beat down and the orgasm that had him hallucinating. Her mouth parted as she stared at the man before them.

  “Filitov?” Her voice sounded as incredulous as he felt. Boris forced himself to move closer, squinting.

  “Hurry,” the old man hissed. He waved them closer to the car, ducking down to hide. Boris shuffled faster, clutching at his ribs, and kneeled into the gravel on the other side of the sedan. The stones bit into his knee and all he could do was blink in amazement.

  “We thought you were dead,” Boris choked out.

  “So did they.” Filitov jerked his head toward the warehouse. He pressed a button on a small remote in his hand. In the distance, the deep boom of a blast echoed. Distant shouts drifted on the breeze.

  Boris blinked at Filitov then looked up at the warehouse. “Are you blowing the whole thing up?”

  “I am.” Filitov leaned against the car, drawing a labored sigh. “They destroyed my house, my refuge. My life’s work.”

  Claudia gawked at him. “But how did you get out?”

  “After you two left, I couldn’t sleep. I went into my office to read and check the internet.”

  Claudia furrowed a brow. “But I never saw a computer at your house.”

  “You wouldn’t have.” Filitov peered around the edge of the car. “It was in my cellar. My private office.”

  Boris smiled. “I knew you had a secret spot somewhere in that house.”

  “I rode out the fire down there. I carved that hole with my own hands, so I knew it would be safe. Once I could escape, I called in some favors.” Filitov jerked his head at the warehouse. “But I’ve got to get out of here. And so should you.”

  “If they think you’re dead, why bother attacking their warehouse?” Claudia’s creased forehead was endearing—he wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss the wrinkle.

  Filitov hefted with a gravelly laugh. “Revenge, of course.” He pushed himself to standing. Claudia’s forehead crease deepened, proving to Boris that the logistics of the underworld they lived in might never be understood by her. And maybe it was for the better. “I hope I killed that fucker Black, too. He’s been a thorn in my ass ever since he started climbing the ranks.”

  “He’s getting to me too,” Boris said, grabbing Claudia’s hand. They followed Filitov around the back of an abandoned garage while Filitov tapped something into his phone.

  “You know if they see you, Boris.” His voice held a warning note he knew all too well.

  Boris nodded. “You did a good job of distracting them so far. You got a pick-up?”

  “On the way.” Filitov pocketed the phone, looking the two of them up and down. “What’s the next step for you two?”

  “Taking Claudia home,” Boris said, aware of the slight pulse in his chest that accompanied the words.

  “I can take you as far as Dubrovnik,” Filitov said. “But that’s it.”

  “That’ll be fine.” Boris grinned. “Thanks for not killing us while we were inside. How’d you know to avoid us?”

  “Dumb luck. I figured they’d pick you up too, if they managed to find out where I was.” Filitov shook his head, hands on his hips. “That asshole Black is too sneaky.”

  Boris’s belly cinched. Sneaky was one thing— Pavlichenko had shifted into malevolent somewhere in the past year or so. His quest for power and expansion grew like a cancer, pushing the organization into ever darker territories.

  “They called in the GRU,” Boris said. This most recent link-up only proved how high and spiky Pavlichenko’s ambitions had grown.

  Filitov tutted, shaking his head. “That bastard. I’ve never trusted anyone whose entire wardrobe is only one color.” He reached into his pocket and checked his phone, and then gestured for them to follow them. “The car is coming. We need to be quick. If you get spotted, Boris, you’re done. Are you sure about this?”

  Fear flashed inside him and then disappeared, like fire sparking and being snuffed. The consequences would be serious. It would change everything if he was spotted. But right now, the only thing that seemed right was going with Filitov. Consequences be damned.

  “Positive.” He squeezed Claudia’s hand tighter, their grip slick.

  Filitov hurried along the side of the garage, toward the long driveway leading up to the warehouse. The sun caused little droplets of sweat on the back of his neck; he moved as fast as he could, chest straining against the rib pain. A cloud of dust in the distance appeared; a black car sped toward them down the long, narrow drive.

  “There he is.” Filitov nodded, eyes on the car. “We’ll wait until he’s turned around right here.”

  Boris’s heart raced as he watched the car. Their ticket to freedom. To Claudia’s safety. To hopefully finding some sort of new normal, and beginning to distance himself from the organization.

  The thought jarred a cold fear into him. Could he really leave? Filitov’s defection was proof enough of how dangerous and dismal life after the organization could be. So he’d have to find some other way out. Somehow…

  What are you even thinking about? His own thoughts felt foreign to him. Now’s not the time. Once they were in Dubrovnik, he could let the dust settle. See what sort of shape these strange dregs formed.

  Filitov peered around the corner and then whipped his head back again. “Shit.”

  Boris tensed. “What is it?”

  “Someone’s leaving the warehouse.”

  Boris pushed his way up to the corner of the garage and blinked into the bright light. Someone pulled out of the tiny parking lot by the blown-out door of the warehouse, heading right for the approaching black car. The brake lights flared as the car approached Filitov’s getaway driver. No doubt to interrogate whoever was pulling in.

  The getaway car slowed to a stop as well, the two driver’s side windows meeting. Windows down, Boris could only hear faint undertones of a conversation.

  “This could be bad,” Filitov muttered.

  Claudia’s grip on Boris’s hand intensified. “What are they talking about?”

  “I don’t know.” Boris leaned against the side of the garage. “Let’s hope your friend has a clever excuse for being here.”

  He tensed as the overheard conversation grew to shouting. A sharp gunshot rang out. Claudia gasped, clutching his arm.

  Another pop of a gunshot. Boris reached behind him to unsheathe his gun.

  “We’re clear,” Filitov said after a moment. “Let’s go, hurry!”

  Filitov ran toward the cars. Claudia didn’t leave his side as they hurried after him, moans reaching him in the wind. The two cars idled in the driveway. The getaway driver sat clutching his shoulder, dark blood streaming down his arm.

  “Jesus,” Boris said, looking between the two cars. Whoever they’d sent from the warehouse sat slumped in his seat, bullet hole oozing blood from his temple.

  “Let’s go,” Filitov said, opening the driver’s side door. “Claudia, you get in back with Slava. Boris, up front with me.”

  Boris went around to the other side of the car as Filitov helped Slava out of the driver’s seat and into the back seat. Claudia eased into the car with a worried look. “Is he going to be okay?”

  “It probably hurts like a bitch, but he shouldn’t bleed out.” Boris slammed his door shut, turning to look into the back seat as Filitov helped Slava sit. Pain gnawed at his insides from the rotation; he gasped and straightened out, keeping watch on the warehouse.

  “Come on, Filitov.” Boris gnawed at the inside of his lip. Filitov slid into the driver’s seat and put the car into gear. A second later, he made a sharp 180 and peeled down the driveway, leaving the warehouse.

  “All good?�
� Filitov glanced into the rearview mirror. Slava groaned, clutching at his shoulder, pressing a rag against the wound.

  “Nobody’s following us,” Boris reported, squinting into the side mirror. “For now.”

  A tense silence filled the car. The car squealed as Filitov took a sharp turn without slowing down much, joining a country highway. Boris rolled down his window a bit, letting in a hot breeze to move the air inside the stuffy car.

  “So,” Boris began, drumming his fingers against his knee, glancing over at Filitov. “It’s been one helluva day, right?

  ***

  Claudia’s head nodded down, which startled her awake. She inhaled sharply, eye bolting open. The top of Boris’s head peeked over the headrest of the seat in front of her. Filitov gripped the steering wheel with both hands, squinting at the road.

  And to her left, the getaway driver sat sweating, chest heaving as she pressed the rag against his shoulder. Soon after taking off from the warehouse she’d offered to apply pressure—he had enough on his plate with the bullet wound. Between the monotony of the ride and the sheer exhaustion from their action-packed day, Claudia needed a nap.

  “Everyone okay back there?” Boris turned his head, but didn’t twist to look back at them.

  “Peachy,” Claudia said, yawning. “Are we there yet?”

  “Almost,” Filitov said. “About ten minutes until we hit the outskirts of Dubrovnik. Traffic might slow us down, but it shouldn’t be too bad.”

  “And where are we going in Dubrovnik?” She leaned forward, keeping the pressure on Slava’s shoulder. “The airport, or the embassy?”

  Filitov and Boris shared a glance, which made her belly twist. Please no more surprises. All she wanted was to be on a plane for the States. But how that would happen without her passport or anything at all, really, seemed an insurmountable task.

  She’d been mulling the possible game plan all day now. Showing up at the embassy might be the smartest, at least for expediting her return and contacting her father. She was sure Boris and Filitov would have objections, though. Probably they couldn’t come within fifty feet of a federal building without getting hives or some sort of panicked reaction. Seemed like guys in their line of work might need to avoid high-profile areas.

  “We’re still figuring that out,” Boris said.

  “If you take me to the embassy, they can handle reissuing my passport and contacting my father,” Claudia offered. “And you wouldn’t—”

  “We’re heading to a safe house first,” Filitov interjected. “We’ll figure out our game plan there.”

  “Filitov,” Boris began, “I thought you wanted her out of this mess?”

  “Tell me how the embassy drop-off plays out,” Filitov retorted. “Cameras everywhere, gunshot wound in the backseat.” He scoffed. “Come on.”

  “I want to talk to my dad,” she said. “I just want him to know I’m okay. It’s been so long since those guys kidnapped me—he’s probably worried sick by now.”

  And that was the sinuous, sneaking truth that stalked through her veins, interrupting every moment of quiet or peace that she could snag. Feeling so helpless and disconnected—that was the worst part of all this. If only she could send a cryptic text from someone’s phone, or hell, a homing pigeon—just to put her father’s mind at ease. Just so he could sit back and sigh with relief.

  Filitov let out a soft sigh. “I’ll see what we can do.”

  “We have to take the right steps,” Boris added. “Your kidnapping has been big news.”

  Anxiety clawed at her. “I don’t want you guys to get into trouble. I just want to let him know that I’m alive.”

  Boris turned slowly, wincing a bit, so he could look her in the eye. “I know. I promise you’ll be able to.” After a moment, he added, “Trust me.”

  She offered a small smile and sank back into the seat, letting the cars and trees of the drive blur together. Despite the eagerness to get home, and the unknowns of the coming hours, there was a certain stillness inside her that knew it would work out. That she’d get home, sooner or later, safe and sound.

  Maybe that was Boris’s calm, bleeding over to her. Maybe it was the unshakable faith that had blossomed when it came to him. Because after all of this, he was the only one she did trust anymore. He was the only one who knew how to navigate all the tricky paths and defend them against the unknown attacks. Boris was her protector. And her savior.

  The highway grew clogged the closer they got to the city. By dusk, they were winding through an unfamiliar neighborhood, probably far from the well-manicured cobblestone streets and wrought iron balconies of the touristic neighborhoods. Here the homes were tightly packed, boasting a long-gone elegance. Shrubs and trees weren’t maintained with the same precision, but yet it was still breathtaking. A new side of Dubrovnik; even more off the beaten path.

  Filitov finally pulled into a narrow drive, stopping at a black gate. A moment later it swung open and he pulled inside, shutting the car of in front of a squat stone building. Shrubs and wild grass lined the short driveway. To her right, a tall, narrow house loomed, completely dark.

  “We’re here,” Filitov said, pushing open the driver’s side door. He came around back to help Slava out. Boris opened her door and offered a hand.

  She took it, smiling up at him. “Well looky here. A surprise evening in Dubrovnik.”

  “What can I say? I’m a romantic.” His dimpled grin tore her heart in two.

  “You better have something good planned before I head back home,” she murmured, smoothing her hands over his chest.

  “This hasn’t been enough? A getaway, nursing an FSB hitman, and now this?” He gestured around them. “I’m shocked you want anything more.”

  She giggled, burying her face in his chest. “I think all I want now is some food. That’ll suffice.”

  “I can make that happen,” he said, squeezing her hand. “Let’s go inside.”

  Filitov and Slava shuffled toward a small side door. Claudia and Boris followed, entering a dark hallway of the house. Boris led the way, following the sound of Filitov’s voice as they ventured deeper. A glow of light shone at the end of the hallway. When they turned the corner, they found a brightly lit kitchen, unknown faces greeting her.

  “Whoa,” Claudia said, squinting at the brightness. Four strange men filled the kitchen—cooking, based on the smells. Something with oregano, and onion. “This place looked totally abandoned from outside.”

  “We make it that way,” Filitov said, helping Slava sit in a chair at a round dinner table. One of the guys hovered over Slava, moving the rag, inspecting the wound. “This is a safe house, so it’s best to be inconspicuous.”

  “So no parties,” Boris cracked.

  Claudia’s stomach growled at the smells. “Can I taste whatever is cooking?”

  “In a minute,” a heavy Croatian accent interjected. One of the burlier guys, standing over the stove, cast a stern look in her direction. “It’s not ready.”

  “We’ll wait out here,” Boris said, pushing her through a doorway into a living room. It was sparse and functional—not a single painting on the walls, but overstuffed couches lined the walls. He sat gently on the couch, pulling her next to him.

  “I’m afraid to touch you,” she murmured, smoothing her hand over his arm. “I don’t want you to hurt anymore.”

  “It’s your last chance to touch me,” he said, leaning back, dragging his fingertips through her hair. “So you better do it, even if it hurts. I command it.”

  She cracked a grin but it faded fast. “You won’t come back with me?”

  His dark eyes clouded over. A knot appeared in her gut. “I can’t.”

  “Not even to hand me over, receive the accolades of my father?” She meant it as a joke, but then the truth of the situation crashed over her. Worst idea ever—lead him directly to his target. Furthermore, it reiterated the sad blockade between them. Like you could ever be with him. Like he could ever meet your dad, or hang out for
a barbecue someday.

  “Don’t answer that,” she said quickly. “I shouldn’t see you in the US at all. If I do, it means you’ve come to finish your mission.”

  “You won’t see me in the US,” Boris said, his voice soft. “I promise.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Will you finish your mission?”

  “That’s being worked out.” He cleared his throat, sitting up a little. “Trust me.”

  Something in his gaze calmed her, despite the worries echoing in her skull. “I do trust you. Where will you go from here?”

  He shrugged, his gaze skating over her face, down her neck. “I’m not sure yet. I have some things to figure out.”