by SR Jones
I sound pathetic and stupid to my own ears, but what was I supposed to do?
“I tried to seduce Konstantin,” I say, hating the way I feel like a whore. “But it didn’t work. He saw my artwork, offered me a job, and I was told to take it by the Order. That’s what they always called themselves, the Order. Long before this, I’d realized they didn’t work for British Intelligence, or even with them; not anymore at least. They were having me spy on our own government, for God’s sake. I only see the same three men. They contact me via a pay-as-you-go phone, and I get a new one each month. I throw the old one away. We meet in a hotel room somewhere. I call them numbers One, Two and Three, and they give me orders, and that’s it. This time they said because I didn't sleep with Konstantin that counted as a fail, so they told me my final assignment had been changed, and now I had to kill him.”
I shake my head and bite my lip, trying to stop myself from crying.
“I said no so many times, but they said if I didn’t do it, they’d sell Esme to a brothel.” I can’t keep the tears at bay any longer. I use my free hand to angrily swipe at my face. “She’s probably already on her way to one.” I sob.
Damen stops Vasily for a moment and tips my chin up. “Zoey, do you have that phone?”
I nod and sniff.
“Okay, I’ll need the phone. Do you have photos of the men?”
“No, of course not. They never let me take pictures of them. Oh, wait. I do have a picture of one of them, with Esme.” I thank God I bought myself a phone at the airport and took a snapshot of the threatening picture Number Two had sent me before he somehow deleted it off the previous burner phone. They clearly have a lot of technical expertise too, but I have smarts, and now I have a picture of one of them.
“Great. I’ll need that too,” Damen says. I bring it up on my newly purchased phone, and he photographs it with his iPhone. Then he hands me back my phone and pockets the new and still unused burner. “You know, they might not have done what they threatened to with Esme. They might use these sorts of threats but not carry them out.”
“I think they do carry them out, and I’m beginning to think those men are also under a form of duress.”
We’ve reached the beach, and Vasily roughly shoves me at Ilya. “Here, hold her a moment.”
He takes his phone out and speaks to someone in Russian.
Turning to Ilya when he’s done, he says, “We’re taking her to the empty property that Andrius and K have purchased. There’s no work happening there at the moment. We can keep her there without being disturbed.”
“I want to know if you’ll save Esme?” I ask Damen, who I feel is my only ally in this right now.
“I swear to you, I will.”
“Then you can kill me.” I turn to Vasily. “Just shoot me now. I shot your boss… You shoot me.”
“He isn’t my boss any longer, and I’m not done with you yet.” Vasily grabs my arm again and drags me up the path. I stumble a few times, but he doesn’t slow down.
“Didn’t know this was personal. A heads-up might have been nice,” Ilya drawls.
“It’s not fucking personal. She means nothing to me, but I’m in charge here, and I say what happens to her, not you, and certainly not the knight in shining armor back there.” Vasily jabs his thumb back at where Damen is following us up the path.
Damen simply rolls his eyes.
I’m less scared than I was for Esme. Damen was in the Special Forces. He’s a hacker. I bet if anyone has a chance of finding her, it’s him. I’m more scared for myself than I was. For some reason, despite being the asshole who never called back, Vasily is furious with me. I also know he’s cold, possibly somewhat sociopathic, filthy in bed, a smooth liar and someone I wouldn’t trust to feed my cat, never mind to guard my life.
What the hell is he going to do with me when he gets me back to this deserted property?
Chapter Eight
Zoey
We arrive back at the property together, and it’s the place right next door to Andrius’ home. The place they’re going to renovate and use as a new base for their business. Except now it’s deserted and been given over to Vasily and this cold-faced, stocky Bratva friend of his, Ilya.
I turn to Damen as the vehicle pulls up, and he hops out. He shakes his head. “Sorry, don’t look to me for help. I’ll do everything I can to find your daughter. This…” He looks around at the deserted buildings and back at me. “This is out of my hands.”
He turns to Vasily. “Go easy on her. I’m going to return the dogs.”
“She shot K,” the stocky hard-faced one snarls.
“Because they’ve got her kid, Ilya.” Damen scowls.
“Don’t give a fuck. She should’ve come to us.” Ilya scowls right back.
“I tried,” I cry, and open my mouth to speak again, only to find a rag pushed inside. I cough, gag, and turn to Vasily who smirks at me.
“I think a bit of silence from you right now is the best thing. Let’s go get you cleaned up and given some meds to make you feel better, and then you and I can have a chat. In private.” He shoots Ilya a deadly glare. Vasily pats Damen on the back and saunters off, pulling me behind him. I take my free hand and pull the gag out of my mouth, retching.
“One more word and I’ll stuff it back in and tie your hands behind your back,” Vasily warns.
God, I hate him.
“What the fuck am I supposed to do?” Ilya shouts.
“I don’t know. Grab a beer. Take a nap. Go check on Violet, and make sure the big house is safe. Zoey and I will be just fine here,” Vasily says.
Oh, I don’t think I’m going to be just fine at all.
“I swear if you fuck her up,” Damen warns, taking me by surprise. He’d said he couldn’t help me, but his concerned face gives me some hope; he won’t let them be too brutal.
“You’ll what? Start a war with the Bratva over the woman who shot your friend?”
Damen walks right up into Vasily’s space and pokes him in the chest. “Do not fuck her up.”
Vasily knocks his hand away. “You were correct earlier; this is none of your business. Go back to Athens.”
He opens the door of the house, pulls me inside a dusty, messy kitchen, and kicks the door shut in an outraged Damen’s face.
I turn to him and plaster a smile on my face, even though the last thing I feel like is smiling. “Alone again,” I say.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” he shouts as if I hadn’t spoken.
Pacing, his face twists into a livid mask of rage as he shakes his head. “Fuck, Zoey. How the fuck am I supposed to keep you safe now? I’m going to have K, Andrius, and Ilya out there all baying for your blood.”
I can’t keep up with him. Now he’s worrying about keeping me safe?
“You’ve fucked up so bad,” he says to me.
Yeah, I think. Tell me something I don’t know.
“Let me go, Vasily,” I say. “You have to let me go.”
He turns to me, his face full of astonishment, and blows out a long breath. “Are you fucking insane? I’m not letting you go. You’re a dead woman walking. The only thing keeping you alive is me.”
“I thought you wanted me dead? Make your mind up,” I yell at him. “If you’re going to keep my alive, at least let me help in some way to find my daughter. Let me try at least.”
Vasily ignores me, as if I haven't spoken. He goes to the door, yanks it open, and shouts to his friend, “Ilya, can you go to Andrius’ property and fetch me some water, something bland to eat, bread, toast, rice; I don’t know. Something to wash up with, and a toothbrush and toothpaste?”
Then he turns to me as he closes the door. “Damen’s on it with your daughter. He’s the best there is. You have no idea where she is or how to reach those men? You call them, and they will likely tell you to come in and then kill you. They’re probably already on their way here to Corfu now they know you’ve failed, or some of their men are.”
“Aren’t you w
orried?” I ask. “God, Damen, he has the phone. It will lead them to him.”
He laughs. “Damen will disable any tracking the moment he turns that phone on. The minute he’s back in Athens, he’ll crack that thing open wide and get all the information he can from it. He gets their numbers, anything, and if there’s an opening, he’ll find it. As for them coming here, good. I want to kill those fuckers with my bare hands, and I will. No one comes for one of my Bratva brothers and lives.”
“Does that include me?” My voice is small, but I don’t know why. I really don’t care if I live or die, but for some strange reason, I don’t want Vasily to be the one to end my life.
He stares at me for a long beat. “I really don’t know what I’m going to do with you, Zoey with a Y.”
I wonder if he still wants me. Is that attraction still there for him? Can I use it? Get him to let his guard down and then get away?
If I do escape, and Damen does as he promises, that will be two of us trying to get to Esme. Better odds for her.
“I’m filthy,” I say. “Can I take a shower?”
“No. Don’t trust you. When Ilya gets here with the supplies, I’ll wash you.”
Oh God, how humiliating. I’m about to protest when I pause. Maybe it can play into somehow getting things to go the way I want them to. If he’s washing me, that means he needs me naked. Me naked might remind him of what we did, and that might make him want to do it again. If I can get him on my side, along with Damen, who seems to be, it will only help Esme more. So long as the road leads to me getting what I need, I’m willing to take the journey. No matter what.
I sigh and sit on a chair, staring out the window.
Esme. She’s all I can think about. Where is she right now? My poor, innocent child, caught up in this mess because she has a total fuck-up for a mother. How unfair is that for her?
I spend the next ten minutes staring into space, thinking the most depressing thoughts to ever run through my mind, as Vasily cleans out a pan and boils water on the stove. Once it has boiled he puts the pan to the back of the stove and leaves it.
Ten minutes later there’s a heavy banging on the door, and it creaks open as Ilya walks in. He has a big cloth bag in his meaty paw, and he slams it down on the counter. He opens it and takes stuff out, saying the name of each item as he places it on the worn surface.
“Coffee, milk, bread, crackers, some meat that Violet sent over for you,” he says to Vasily. “Water, pain killers, shampoo, soap, towels, antibiotic cream, and there’s some bits I’ve added.” Ilya turns to me with a vicious smirk. “Rags, pliers, a hammer, nails, a knife, and I brought some extra guns too.”
He lifts his waistband and shows off three guns stashed there, taking one out and giving it to Vasily.
“Thanks, I think,” Vasily says drily. “I’ve boiled water, why don’t you make some coffee at some point?”
“Maybe later. For now, I’ll be right outside, seeing as you seem to want some time alone with this bitch. You decide you want to leave her to me, though, just shout, and I’ll gladly come and show her what these items can be used for.”
He crosses the room, grabs my chin viciously and tips my face up. “You’re a dead cunt walking, know that. You shot K, and no matter what, you’re on my card. There’s no way you get to come back from this. Because I’m such a fucking gentleman, I’ll let you live long enough to see if Damen can save your daughter or not. If not, then I’m sure you’ll welcome me putting an end to you. Even if she lives, you won’t get a happy reunion because you’re on my to-do list, bitch.”
He pushes my head back as he lets go, hurting my neck.
I stare at him as he walks out the door. “I think he has temper issues,” I say. Inside, though, I’m tearing part.
His words, that no matter what I’ll never get that reunion, rip my heart to shreds because I know they’re true.
I wish I could feel something, anything, other than this utter desolation. It’s as if the world’s biggest cloud has settled over my head and draped me in dark gray murky nothingness. All I can taste, smell, see, and feel is my own failure as a mother.
Vasily has stuffed some of the items that Ilya had unpacked back into a bag, and he comes to me, grabs my wrists, and roughly hauls me up from my seat.
“Come on. You stink.”
I let him drag me out of the kitchen and up the worn wooden stairs. It’s a big house, but beyond that I don’t notice much about it. I’m not really in the right state of mind to assess the décor.
“Why has Andrius left me to you to deal with?” I ask Vasily. “You and Ilya, I mean. I don’t get it. Is it because their business is legit now? Can’t be seen torturing someone for information, even if she has just tried to assassinate one of your own? Is that why you?”
He leans into me and whispers in my ear. “Why do you think?”
He smells nice, I notice. Subtle. Fresh even. Something rainlike almost. It reminds me of rivers, mountains, and sunshine and nice things. How charming. A fresh breezy scent to cover up the stench of his dark soul.
“Why do you think?” he asks again. “Why would Andrius, Reece, and Bohdan even, leave you to me?”
“I have no idea. Other than because they want to stay legit.”
“Or perhaps it is because they are legit, to a degree. The only one amongst them who might have done nefarious things to you is Konstantin, and he’s in hospital fighting for his life. Reece? He’d have arrested you and handed you to the authorities because he’s as clean as they come.” He laughs as if doing such a thing is insane. “Handed you over to the authorities, as if they’d do anything worthwhile. Bohdan? He’s gone soft if you ask me. Decided he’s had enough of being a hard bastard for K and wants to be a farmer or something. I don’t know if it will last, but right now, Bohdan is all about love and light. Andrius? Now, he’s interesting. He’s truly terrifying but has a code. No women or children.”
I know what he means by that, and it surprises me. Andrius doesn’t strike one as a person with a heavy moral code.
“He will break that code if he has to during war, and this could be considered an act of war against him and his. But, you see, even if he broke his code, he’d make it quick.” We’ve reached the bathroom, and he stops us outside the open door as he turns to me. “And yet, they need you to talk and talk and talk. They also need you to be made an example of. They might not have come to such a conclusion openly yet, but you walking about unscathed after what you did? It puts Andrius, Violet, and their child at risk too. Reece and his partner as well. If these shadowy men can send you here after K, a woman he hired, a woman he trusted to a degree, they can send anyone. So our guys need to show that anyone who follows in your footsteps is fucked. Because you are fucked. Me and Ilya? We’re not above doing anything to make you talk. Or above doing anything to make a horrifying example of you. I have no fucking moral code. There are no imaginary lines in the sand for me. So you’re shit out of luck.”
In a perverse and sick way, I like that he has no moral code. It makes him the perfect machine for vengeance. It makes him like a robot that is deadly, but if you can program it to be on your side, he’s a fantastic weapon. Could I get him to be on my side? Could a few great fucks be enough to gain the protection of someone so cold?
I must be fucked in the head because there’s been an attraction between us from the start, and his admitting he has no moral fiber should douse those flames right down. Instead, it’s like he’s poured alcohol on them. I like that he’s truly dark. I like it because I think, deep down, after what the Order have done to me, I am too.
Vasily might say he has no moral code, but he does have one. One he might not even recognize in himself, but one which is worth its weight in gold in this world. Vasily has loyalty.
Once he’s on your side, he’s on your side. What would it take to get him on my daughter’s side? Is it even possible?
He reaches for me and pushes me into the large bathroom. It’s big, but the fittings
are ancient and rusting.
He rips my t-shirt from my body as if it’s made of paper. I gasp and put my hands to my braless breasts, but he laughs bitterly.
“Don’t bother. After all, I’ve seen it all before.”
Then he goes for my jeans, but I push his hands away. “I’ll do it,” I say.
I take my jeans off, and then my panties and stand naked in front of him. With a smirk, I hand him my panties. “For your collection,” I say.
If I expected him to be embarrassed or offended, I read him wrong. Instead, he takes them, bunches them up, puts them in the back pocket of his jeans and mouths a silent thank you.
He grabs my wrists, pulls my arms behind me, and takes a rope out of the bag. Hhmmm, Ilya didn’t announce that particular item, the sneaky fuck. Vasily ties my wrists quickly and efficiently. The position he has my arms in thrusts my breasts out, and he stands back and admires them brazenly for a moment.
Next, he ties my ankles. His knowledge of rope work is clearly good. He’s efficient and precise. I wonder idly if he got his skills in combat or in other pursuits?
He stands back and looks me up and down. There’s nothing but disgust in his beautiful eyes, and that makes me fume.
“Who the fuck are you to look at me like I’m dirt on your shoe?” I demand. “We’re cut from the same cloth, except you are way worse, so don’t look at me like that.”
He laughs, showing off perfect white teeth. “Sweetheart, we aren’t cut from the same cloth. We’re not even the same material. You’re a whore. That’s the lowest of the low.”
The word whore is said with so much distaste it burns me. He’s so full of himself that he believes being a whore is worse than being a murdering Bratva thug.
“Fuck you, you piece of shit.” I push at him with my upper body, using my right shoulder. “I’m not a whore. I’ve never slept with anyone for money.”
