by Maggie Ryan
“I’m here,” she whispered softly. “I promise I’ll try not to fail you, Natalia.”
“She knows.” Feeling pressure on her hair, it took her a moment to realize that Stryder had dropped a kiss against the top of her head. God, he was a man unlike any she’d ever known. He could light a fire in her behind that made sitting uncomfortable and yet ease her fears with a few words and a gentle squeeze of her hand, and then make her heart skip a beat by kissing her in a way that made her feel he was proud of her. Picking up the pencil she’d abandoned, she worked to fulfill that promise.
The next time the pencil stopped moving was because Stryder placed a hand over hers. Looking up, she saw him smiling. “Time for a break,” he said.
“But I’m not done…”
“Jennie will have my hide if I keep you chained to the table,” he said, pulling the pencil from her fingers.
“No!” she shouted, “you don’t understand. I can’t stop… not now.”
“Zoya, you need to eat.”
“I can’t,” she said, reaching for another pencil. “Their faces are calling to me and I have to get them down while they do.” When he reached for that pencil as well, she jerked her hand beneath the table.
He looked down at her, determination in his eyes stating that he wasn’t accustomed to being blatantly challenged. “Zoya, I’m not going to allow you to hide in here. I told you that no one cares about—”
“Please, Stryder,” she interrupted. “This isn’t about the spanking. I don’t care about that. Just don’t make me stop. I-I can’t fail them again.”
He finally gave her a curt nod. “Fine, but I’m going to bring you something to eat and you will eat it. Understood?”
At his nod, she’d brought her hand from her lap, the tip of the pencil already back on the pad. “Yes, sir,” she said, her strokes filling in the shape of the man’s nose. By the time a tray was placed on the table, she’d finished the portrait and had begun the next.
“Eat,” Stryder said, pulling out an adjacent chair.
Sighing, she reached for the sandwich, taking a bite while her free hand began to draw. The first bite was swallowed before she realized that she was famished. Allowing the pencil to still, she laid it across the notebook. “Thank you,” she said, taking another bite. “This is delicious.”
Stryder chuckled. “Jennie will be thrilled. It’s just veggies between bread.”
She smiled and took another bite before taking a sip from the glass of iced tea he’d also brought. “That may be but Jennie has a way with food. It’s healthy and still really good. I can’t wait to see her garden.”
They made small talk until she’d finished the sandwich as well as the cup of soup. When she was done, he placed the dishes back onto the tray. “How many more portraits do you have to finish?”
“A few,” she said, picking up her pencil again.
“All right, but you don’t have to finish them all today.” When she started to protest, he shook his head. “No. It was difficult enough to convince Pops and Jennie that you were the one who wanted to continue to work. I’ve been told that if you don’t appear for supper, it’ll be my ass. We want to work quickly, but I’m not a slave driver.”
About to nod, Zoya felt her stomach flip at the word “slave.” She knew it was ridiculous and yet she couldn’t help the feeling of shame that instantly flooded through her. “Do… Jennie and Adira know that-that you… bought me? That I’m your… your sla…”
Stryder dropped the tray and squatted down beside her, cutting her off before she could complete the word. “They know that you are a woman who is important to me. They know that it will be with your help that we are able to get the man who hurt not only you and the other women that night, but one who hurt…”
“Who?” she asked when he stopped mid-sentence.
Instead of answering, he reached up to brush her hair behind her ear. “It doesn’t matter. Like I told you before, Poplov is a very evil man. Know that every face you draw will bring us closer to shutting him down.”
She knew there had to be something he wasn’t telling her, but didn’t feel it was her place to push. He waited until she nodded before he stood, brushing his lips against her cheek. Her heart skipped a beat and her fingers shook a bit as they tightened around the pencil. Taking a deep breath, she forced her mind back to the task at hand.
“That’s all for today.”
“Stop doing that!” she said when the pencil was once again plucked from her fingers, yet it was said without the urgency from earlier.
“You promised,” Stryder said, pulling back her chair. How he managed with her still sitting in it was just another testament to his strength. Sighing, she stood and then groaned.
“You all right?” he asked instantly.
“Yes, just a little stiff.”
“I imagine so,” Stryder said, stepping behind her. His large, strong fingers began massaging her neck and shoulders, drawing another moan from her.
“I’ll give you about an hour to stop that,” she said, dropping her head forward to allow him better access.
His deep chuckle had her smiling beneath the curtain of her hair but his swat against her butt had her yelping. “Hey! What was that for?”
“No reason,” Stryder said, giving her a grin before his hand moved to the small of her back.
“Well, that hardly seems right,” she muttered as he led her from the room. She’d grabbed the notebook as she’d risen and now clutched it to her chest as they walked down the tunnel.
“Got you moving,” he said, another chuckle having her shaking her head. “But, if you’re still feeling stiff after supper, I’ll show you the gym.”
“You have a gym?”
“Yup, a bit further down the tunnel. We have weight benches, a bag, elliptical machines, a bike and a treadmill.”
“Wow,” Zoya said, turning her head to look behind them. “What else is hidden back here?”
His silence had her eyes going to his. The flare of something in the chocolate of his eyes had her stomach flipping. It was a look she’d seen before and yet couldn’t instantly place. She was about to ask again when he answered.
“Some things are best left alone.”
“What sort of answer is that?” she asked, suddenly very curious. “I already know your family are like super heroes. What could be more secret than that? I promise not to rat you out.”
He chuckled at her reference to their deal about the BBQ, but his reply didn’t help her any. “I didn’t say it was secret,” he said cryptically and then he grinned. “Let’s just say that sometimes, ignorance is bliss.”
Not knowing what to think and seeing the doorway that led back into the house proper, Zoya decided to drop the subject… for now.
Once seated at the table, bowls and platters being passed, she looked to Jennie. “I hope Stryder told you how delicious lunch was. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you myself.”
“Don’t you fret, child,” Jennie said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “He promised he’d make sure you ate, and I understand the pull of a muse.”
Smiling and knowing without a doubt that Jennie was sincere, Zoya took a large helping of salad. “When I’m done with the portraits, I really do want to help you in the garden.”
“I’d like that,” Jennie said, taking a large spoon of the tofu and bean dish she’d prepared and plopping it not on her plate, but on Stryder’s.
“Hey,” he said, looking up at her. “I already got some of that… whatever that is supposed to be.”
“Well, obviously you need some more,” Jennie said unapologetically. “From what I heard, you practically had a heart attack just running a tiny bit down the road. That’s what you get eating all that processed food.”
Maddox and Anson both chuckled and Zoya had to bite the inside of her cheek in order not to join them. “She’s got you there, bro,” Maddox said. “What would your fellow SEALS think if they knew that you couldn’t keep up with a mere girl
?” His head shook as he poured tea into Adira’s glass. “That’s a jarhead for you.”
“I can still outrun a grunt any day,” Stryder said.
“Boys, boys,” Drake said, his grin belying his chastisement. He turned to Zoya. “I hope you don’t feel as if you can’t take a break.”
“Oh, I didn’t feel that way,” Zoya assured him. “Like I told Stryder, when I see the faces right before me, I just need to finish.”
It wasn’t until they’d finished the meal, and Adira had stood to help Jennie bring plates of a berry cobbler to the table, that Drake asked, “May I see?”
Zoya passed him the notebook. “I’m not done but those whose names I knew, I wrote at the bottom of the page.”
Nodding, Drake opened the notebook as Adira was placing his dish in front of him.
“Zoya, these are perfectly drawn.” Tapping the bottom of the page, she asked, “Do you have a pencil?”
Zoya shook her head but Drake pulled a pen from his shirt pocket, passing it to her.
“This is Mikhail Sokolov,” Adira said, writing the name across the sheet before flipping the page. “And this is Nikolai Orlov.”
“How do you know?” Zoya asked.
“Because they are that bastard Poplov’s main henchmen,” Adira said, flipping another page. “I don’t know this woman, Katarina Petrova.”
“She’s the woman I thought was a friend,” Zoya said. “I was so incredibly stupid. Trusting her is what caused all this.”
“Don’t,” Stryder said, reaching out to place his hand over Zoya’s. “It’s natural to want to trust people. It’s not your fault that trust was abused.”
Zoya didn’t respond, knowing that this man wasn’t one to take things at face value but grateful he was attempting to ease her sense of guilt. As pages continued to be flipped, Anson leaned over to look with the others.
“That’s Natalia,” he said softly when the woman’s face appeared.
“She’s beautiful,” Adira said. “I don’t understand how she can look so sad and yet be a part of this horrible group.”
“Oh, she’s not,” Zoya said quickly. “She’s a victim and a friend. I drew all the women who were taken.” She looked at Stryder before turning back to Adira. “Stryder and Anson could only save one that night—”
“But we’re going to save them all,” Stryder quickly interjected.
“I pray you do,” Adira said, her eyes still on each face as it appeared. “Grandfather was right. This isn’t about regular prostitution. Poplov sells women. If you don’t save them, if the men who bought the women tire of them, these women will be killed in those films.”
“What films?” Zoya asked, a sense of dread filling her at the horror in Adira’s voice.
“Don’t worry about that—”
“Don’t worry? How can you say that?” Zoya shouted, cutting Stryder off.
“Calm down,” Stryder said, reaching for her hand when she snatched it out from under his. Zoya saw him shoot a look over her head and knew it was aimed at Adira. Whipping her head around, she caught Adira shaking her head.
“Adira, don’t let him scare you. Tell me!” she demanded.
“I’m not trying to scare either of you,” Stryder said. “But we’re not positive about anything—”
“She deserves to know,” Adira cut in.
“Adira—” Maddox joined the conversation, his tone stern.
“No! Don’t!” Zoya said, her eyes going from person to person. “These aren’t just pictures. I know these women. I was in that room with all of them. They were just as terrified as I was. They weren’t as lucky as me. No one saved them that night. Natalia is my friend. I need to know. What films?” Her gaze locked onto Stryder’s. “Please, you ask me to trust you. I can’t if you lie to me.”
He held her gaze for a long moment and then nodded. “First, let me say that we don’t know for absolutely sure that the stories are true—not always.”
“Just fucking tell me!” Zoya said, knowing her voice was strident, her tone about as disrespectful as it could be, and yet she couldn’t help it.
“No need to curse at me,” Stryder said. “I’m attempting to answer your question.” When she didn’t respond, keeping her eyes on his but her lips tightly closed, he sighed. “According to some resources, some of the women who’ve been sold are then… murdered.”
“Murdered?” Zoya asked, her strident tone gone, replaced by a barely audible whisper. When Stryder’s eyes flicked away for an instant, she knew he was withholding something, but what could be worse than what he’d admitted? “Murdered how?”
His eyes closed briefly before he opened them, locking onto her again. “They are forced to appear in films where they are tortured and finally, mercifully, killed.”
Zoya stood up so quickly that her chair toppled over to crash against the tiles. She couldn’t breathe, her vision blurred, her heart threatened to beat from her chest. Turning, she took a step only to find her feet leaving the ground. Twisting like a serpent, she kicked out only to find herself swung up into Stryder’s arms, his grip tight.
“Don’t!” he said, “you promised not to run again.”
Knowing she would never be able to physically defeat him, Zoya stopped fighting. Fury raged through her and yet he, this family, was not the cause of her anger.
“Fine,” she spat out, pushing against his chest with her palms. “If you want me to keep that promise then you need to come with me. If I don’t run, if you try to keep me here, I’m going to explode. I have to run… I have to, Stryder.”
It took a moment, not a sound in the room given until he spoke. “All right. I’ll go with you, but you have to promise me you won’t leave until I change.”
Zoya nodded and when he set her onto her feet, she walked in front of him, veering off towards her room while he went up the stairs. He didn’t need to know that while he changed, she threw up the dinner she’d eaten, the visions filling her head making it impossible to keep her stomach from churning. After brushing her teeth, she pulled her hair up into a high ponytail and exchanged her jeans for a pair of shorts. By the time Stryder came down the stairs, wearing a pair of sweat pants and a black tee, boots exchanged for a pair of old sneakers, she was standing with Adira.
“Go,” Adira said softly. “I’ll be here when you get back. You can ask me anything.”
“Thank you,” Zoya said.
Stryder didn’t speak, simply opened the door. Zoya slipped beneath his arm and without pausing, took the steps two at a time. Instead of running in the direction she’d taken earlier, she turned left. The road continued to rise towards the mountains. It would be a tougher run but one she knew would push her, cause her body to strain, and was exactly what she needed.
“Hey, it would be easier to run along the road toward the front,” Stryder said, catching up with her.
She turned her head to give him a quick glance. “I don’t want easy,” she retorted. “I suggest you ‘cowboy up’ or stay behind.” With that said, she turned on the speed, her strong legs eating up the dirt and not really giving a shit if he followed or not. She did what she had to do… she ran.
Zoya didn’t even begin to slow until she’d covered at least a mile… most of it uphill. The exercise was doing what it was meant to do. The horror of what had been revealed wasn’t gone but it no longer consumed her with fear. Instead, it fueled her, pushing her, her feet barely connecting with the earth. It took her another half-mile, twisting around trees and large boulders, before she realized that she no longer heard the pounding of a heavy tread on her heels. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Stryder had fallen further behind but when he looked up and saw her, he didn’t call out for her to stop. He only nodded, giving her permission to do what she needed to do. Turning, she ran on, climbing higher until with a final burst, she exited the tree line. The sight before her did what Stryder didn’t do. It stopped her in her tracks.
The lake was unexpected and it was beautiful. Water lapped agai
nst the shore line, the reflection of the sun as it began to sink towards the horizon causing bands of color to dance across the surface. She could see the opposite shore but knew it had to be at least a half mile distant. With her hands on her knees, she drew in great gulps of the cleanest air she could ever remember breathing. Sweat cooled on her forehead and her arms, her heart rate eventually beginning to slow. Straightening, she turned at a sound to discover Stryder had joined her. His breathing was ragged and his black hair was plastered to his forehead. The black tee looked even darker and she knew it wasn’t from the dimming daylight, as the fabric was molded to a chest that had her heart rate increasing. God, he was a magnificent specimen of a man.
As an idea bloomed in her head, she refused to give it time for consideration. Toeing off her sneakers, she bent to pull off her socks. The sound of Stryder gulping air changed the moment she hooked her fingers into the waistband of her shorts and shucked out of them. As she pulled her top over her head, she smiled. The poor man would need to take a breath before he passed out and yet knowing he’d simply stopped to stare at her as she stripped, had her nipples hardening. Unclipping her bra and dropping it on the ground, she peeled out of her panties and stood, naked as the day she’d come into the world.
“Swimming is another love of mine,” she said, not giving him a chance to respond as she stepped past him and walked into the water. It was a bit chillier than she’d expected and yet, after an initial quick intake of breath, she lifted her arms and then dove beneath the surface. She swam underwater until she needed to breathe, surfacing and shoving her hair out of her face. Treading water, she looked towards the shore and was rewarded with the sight of Stryder as he stood on the bank. He was as nude as she and, from the sight of his erection, she knew he was also as aroused. Once her eyes returned to his face, she saw his lips curl up. He didn’t dive in, just walked towards her, each step bringing him closer and causing her blood to race and her pussy to spasm.
