by Bethany-Kris
If anything, that would have made Marky proud—that his death pushed Roman’s resolve in that regard. Enough to keep him on his phone, scrolling Narcotics Anonymous meetings available across New York.
Not that he’d tell anybody.
It was a strange feeling to be alone. Especially for a man like Roman who had never allowed himself to feel like he was alone, and that it was a bad thing. Because he had also never acknowledged that he was vulnerable before.
Getting close to people tended to do that. Caring left him wide open to getting hurt.
When his phone rang he almost didn’t pick up. Ignoring his trembling fingers shaking, he pressed it to his ear. The vodka had settled warmly in the pit of his stomach. He just had to wait a few minutes until it went to his head, numbing him for a while.
It wouldn’t last very long, but it was better than walking around with the memory of seeing Marky lying dead in his father’s driveway. It at least took the edge off his desire to get so high nothing mattered.
“Yeah?” he grumbled into the phone, scrubbing a palm down his face at the same time. He couldn’t even be sure the person on the other end heard him.
“Mr. Avdonin.” A female voice snapped him out of it. It was a voice he recognized—shit, he should have looked at the caller ID.
“This is Sylvia D’Souza, from the Twin Rivers facility in Nevada,” she said.
It was the urgency in her tone that gained all of Roman’s attention in an instant.
“Fuck,” Roman muttered under his breath, running through scenarios in his mind about what spurred on the call. It could only be a few things, and given Karine’s long stretch without an alter appearing, he worried that was the reason. If only because Katina had yet to show herself and not leave chaos in her wake. “What happened? Is she okay?”
The woman on the other end paused.
Just long enough to make Roman stand from the couch, unable to stop his sudden burst of nervous energy, demanding, “Well?”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Avdonin. Your wife ... this morning ... a few hours ago—”
“Spit it out!”
“She escaped, sir.”
Roman stilled on the spot, that numbness he’d been craving came without warning, chilling him to the fucking bone. “What the fuck did you just say?”
Because surely ... no, she had to be wrong. He chose that facility for a reason. Their willingness to skirt the law in some cases to help families who could afford their services, for one. And the promise, by Michelle Wang, that Twin Rivers was undoubtedly the safest place to hide Karine given their location, and the security team on sight.
“Mr. Avdonin, please calm down,” Sylvia said, her voice rushed but still hushed on the other end of the call. He could only imagine why—undoubtedly, the facility was trying to cover their asses. “I know this is stressful. We have sent out a search party to look for her.”
“She ran away—what, on foot?” he spat back, not bothering to quell the growing rage. “And you haven’t found her yet? I mean, how far could she have gone without anything to get her there? What the fuck are you useless pieces of shit even doing up there?”
“This happened earlier—by the time they notified me, I wasn’t even on the property today, it had been more than a couple of hours. She wasn’t on foot, actually, and we suspect she might be farther than we can reach because of that. Her father was here to see her today, we had a new nurse working the front desk, and wasn’t entirely familiar with Karine’s file or case. She went off a miscommunication in the file, and allowed the visitation when Karine agreed. They, Karine and her father, disappeared together after. Based on the footage we’ve been able to find, it appears he took her with him when there was a distraction in the dining hall.”
Her father.
Roman ended the call before Syliva said another word. It was all he needed to hear. Everything else fell into place far too easily.
Scarily so.
Maxim had found her—did he convince her or forcibly take her away from the facility? The only thing was—Roman had no idea where he would take her. Nobody even knew where Maxim was or where he’d been hiding all this time.
In an effort to keep Karine hidden from Dima—Roman had neglected the need to keep her hidden from her father, too.
Apparently, the man had been waiting.
Time was up.
*
Roman took the stairs from the loft apartment to the garage below three steps at a time. The loud, rhythmic slap of his shoes to the stairs was the only sound he heard mixed in with his screaming, racing thoughts.
He had one option—charter a jet to Vegas, and find her. Catching a flight last minute would be a joke.
He didn’t give a fuck anymore—not about his father’s orders to stay in New York, or if he was going to be followed by Dima and his men. At this point, he literally had everything to lose. Karine was his everything, after all. He didn’t give a fuck about the consequences of being seen, or how visible it would make him to officials. Too much damage had been done already. Marky was dead. They had too much attention from the FBI and police, and it wouldn’t be long before the two merged to see how they might be able to help one another.
These were things that were entirely out of his control. Nothing could be done to stop what had already happened.
Roman focused on what he could—Karine, and locating her. He was the one who failed to keep her safe, no excuses.
He blamed himself for leaving her there. Maybe trying to prioritize getting her help should have taken a backseat to move her as far out of the country and reach as he could. His hubris was assuming he should have relied on anybody to take care of her.
That they were capable.
Nobody could be trusted.
Before he even had a chance to hit the unlock button on the fob for the rental Porsche he’d been using, a van pulled into the garage. The two men driving had parked five feet from Roman and jumped out before the garage door even closed completely.
Lincoln and Kostya nodded his way, but even their smiles were grim. He hadn’t expected to see the two—men Marky had considered friends in Roman’s crew of guys, who worked closely for him.
“We have a surprise for you,” Kostya said as Lincoln rounded the back of the van with Roman.
For a moment—Roman fantasized about seeing Karine sitting in there. That somehow, in a matter of a few hours, she had found her way to him. All the way from Nevada. It was a foolish, errant thought that he knew couldn’t be true when nobody but him and the people in another state knew she was missing.
Of course, it wasn’t Karine.
It was Masha.
She sat crouched in the corner in the back of the van. Her shaking betrayed the fear she was in, despite the courage with which she met Roman’s eyes.
He stood there in silence, staring back at her until his brain managed to comprehend the piece of the puzzle that had suddenly been laid at his feet.
“Found her hanging around Leon’s gas station,” Lincoln explained as he stepped back beside Roman. “Begging for change so she could make phone calls.”
“The feelers came through, then?”
The man nodded. “She was trying to sell some things—it gave us a general location. The streets did the rest.”
“Who was she trying to call?” Roman asked.
Kostya jumped into the van so he could drag Masha out. Perhaps if Roman cared about the woman, or had any sympathy for the predicament she found herself in, then her screech when Kostya yanked her by her hair would have bothered him.
Instead, Roman figured, at this point, she deserved what she got. Especially if she had any hand in some of their current circumstances, and he suspected she did. Had she been a man they were looking for, she would have already been beaten beyond recognition before ever being placed at his feet.
“You’ll have to ask her because she’s not talking,” Lincoln replied.
Bound at her ankles and wrists with zip ties, she crumpl
ed to the ground in front of him, and she dared to look up at Roman with tears streaming down her cheeks. Her lips quivered, but she didn’t speak.
He couldn’t afford to let himself feel anything as he stared into the frightened face of a woman who might have answers to his most important question. Masha’s disappearance had made little sense, and given she wasn’t familiar with New York, wouldn’t have survived without help from someone else.
There was only a couple of people she might have been in contact with—Maxim, or Dima. Roman was starting to think regardless of which man he found, one prick would lead him straight to the other. Who was chasing who here?
Where was Karine?
“Get her in the basement,” he ordered the men, pulling a cigarette out to light between his lips.
He’d changed his mind about going to Nevada to find Karine.
He had seen it in Masha’s eyes—she was scared for a reason. She did have answers. Roman intended on prying them out of her.
*
The men carried Masha to the basement of the garage without removing her binds. As Roman flicked his cigarette butt to the floor and approached her, he noticed the gash on the bottom of her lip which bled a little when she grimaced.
It wasn’t a new injury, the split through the healing scab said it had been reopened.
“Who did that?” he asked, curious if she would tell him the truth. Whatever that truth was, even if it was as simple as someone on the streets had roughed her up. Her willingness to be honest and talk was the only thing that might allow her to see the outside of this basement.
Masha wouldn’t meet his eyes, then, but she also didn’t bother to struggle with her ties. Likely knowing it was a pointless endeavor.
“Maxim,” she whispered. “Because he found out I had stolen things that could be traced.”
Masha constantly surprised him.
More than he should let her.
“Leave,” Roman demanded to the quiet space, needing privacy for the conversation and events that might come next. The men locked the basement door behind them when they left, and he already had his sharp gaze back on Masha. “You’re going to tell me everything—right fucking now.”
Masha shook her head, those eyes of hers growing big and wild. “I can’t—you don’t understand.”
“What the fuck did you do?” Roman hissed.
He had no reason to raise his voice. Masha was well aware of what men like him could do. Her whole life was a testament to it.
Still, she said nothing.
Roman gave her a second chance. “How did you find out where Karine was?”
Her admission of being near Maxim geared his questioning in that direction. He was trying to connect dots; testing the waters to see if he hit the right mark with Masha, but she gave him nothing.
Definitely, she refused to speak.
As if she had a choice.
When she dared to square her trembling shoulders in the face of his anger, he lunged at her, grabbing her by the jaw, and digging his thumbs into her cheeks. She gasped, letting out a broken cry while she struggled to get out of his grip, but she was powerless.
Roman drew her forcibly towards him, pulling her by the face and feeling her hot, wet tears slide over his fingers. “Let me make something very clear to you—in the grand scheme, you mean nothing. Not to me. You will tell me everything in the end, every detail of what you did, or what you know. Whether or not I have to make you tell me, Masha, is where you can make it easy, or I can make it really hard. And trust me, the only person it’s going to be hard on—is you. I’ll enjoy watching you bleed.”
He let go of her, shoving her away and Masha fell back with a sob, still shaking like a leaf in the wind.
Roman stood over her, telling the woman, “She thought of you as a mother. A protector. Someone she could trust, and look what you did to her. You betrayed her. You betrayed me. I swear to God if he’s going to hurt her, I’ll fucking kill you. I’ll keep you alive until I know, and every second will be so painful for you.”
Masha pulled in a shaky, loud breath before saying, “I-I didn’t hurt h-her. All I ever did was keep her safe. She is the only ... the closest thing to family I have. I j-just want to keep her s-safe.”
The words seemed to break the woman. Her sobs became more violent, and she couldn’t contain her shuddering as she cried.
He didn’t feel sorry for her. He hated her pitifulness, and that part of him believed her. Whether it was her willful ignorance, or something else, he did think she truly cared for Karine like she proclaimed to. If only that made a difference to him.
“How did you find out where I took her?” he asked again.
Masha tried to breathe slower. She gulped in large mouthfuls of air, exhaling in steady streams of three and four seconds long. Eventually, she’d calmed enough to mutter without stuttering, “Your father’s office. I found some contact information in his desk drawers from a file I had taken. We were trying everything. It was just a number and a name on a Post-it, but when I called it—”
Roman cursed severely under his breath, stopping Masha from saying anything more. He knew it. The rage coursed through him like a leather belt whipping his back. He was mad at himself for being so careless. He never should have shared that information with his father. Yet, what was done was done.
“She’s where she should be,” Masha suddenly whispered.
And just like that, the anger simmering inside of him boiled over. He wouldn’t have struck her so hard with his open palm had he been even a couple of steps back, with her out of reach. But instinct drove him to slap away the lie that she dared let slip out of her mouth.
Fuck her.
Karine had nothing and no one before Roman—and he was nothing and no one without her.
Masha fell with a piercing shriek, sprawling on the floor.
Roman straightened up again.
“Fucking bitch,” he groaned under his breath.
He really didn’t want to do that—hit her. It wasn’t his style to hit women, and when a situation came up, he often let others do the job ... if it absolutely had to be done. He always saw his mother or sister’s face, and couldn’t stop himself from imagining how it would feel to see a man beat them.
In their business, justified or not ...
Regardless, Roman would do whatever he needed to do here to get the information he needed about Karine, and her current whereabouts. He hadn’t lied, by the time they were done here—Masha would tell him everything.
He allowed the woman on the cement floor to gather herself before he spoke again. The slap to her face was just a demonstration of what he was willing to do to get the information he needed from her. The only sympathetic part of him hoped she had learned her lesson before this got way worse.
Masha managed to sit up again after a while, rubbing at her cheek with her bound hands the best she could to soothe the sting. “I had to do something—you took her away from me! I didn’t know where she was.”
Roman pulled a chair out of the corner—an old, foldable thing someone had thrown into the basement and forgot about it. Turning it around, he sat facing her with his arms propped up on the back of the chair.
He shook his head. “Actually, from where I sit, it looks like you wanted to find out where Karine was to supply Maxim with that information.”
Masha said nothing but her wet gaze pleaded with him, begging him for some respite. It wasn’t coming. This wouldn’t end until he had everything he needed from her.
Sighing shakily, she whispered, “Karine belongs with her father.”
Was that what she honestly believed?
“The father who treated her like shit for all her life—who hid her away because he was ashamed of her? The one who was willing to give her to a monster—that father?”
“He didn’t know what happened,” Masha rushed to say like it was going to make a difference. “He never knew. I told him, and you don’t know Maxim ... not like I do.”
&nbs
p; He felt an ache in his body; somewhere deep that he couldn’t quite shake when she said those words.
“You knew all along and did fucking nothing?” he asked, coldly calm.
Masha’s gaze hardened at his accusation. “I did the only thing I knew I could do. The only thing within my power. I kept her as safe as I could when I was with her but—”
“You kept her hidden.”
“You took her away,” she snapped back. “You have no idea what it was like to live in that house, to be around those men. If Dima or his father thought Karine would ever talk or reveal the truth, they’d have killed her just like Katina. The only reason they let her live was because her behavior proved she would never talk. And she never did.”
Masha gulped more air into her lungs, trying to regain some semblance of control, but it didn’t help. Her lip bled even more from the blow Roman had dealt across her face.
“So you plied her with drugs,” he said, lifting a shoulder. “You call that helping? Feeding her a concoction of medications that aren’t even proven helpful for her disorder?”
In fact, he was starting to believe that shit had only made her worse.
Masha shook her head. “The drugs kept her subdued.”
“The drugs kept her submissive when she was high. To you and her father. Or to anyone else who wanted to do what they wanted with her.”
“Maxim knew nothing. He thought his daughter was ... different,” she tried to argue.
“He thought his daughter was unworthy of his love or attention. That she was something he could use to get what he wanted. A union with Leonid’s family, to strengthen the control he thought he had over the man, and to get her off his hands. Let’s not pretend different.”
Roman was certainly beyond that shit.
“He never would have agreed to it if he knew what Dima had done!”
The way she said that made him think those weren’t her words, but Maxim’s. Just how much time had she spend with the man while she was missing?
Roman narrowed his eyes at Masha. She seemed unnaturally sympathetic to a man who had been nothing but a master to her for a good portion of her life. He never allowed her to be a free woman, but she still showed him a loyalty Roman didn’t understand.
