I look at the woman. She’s pale and already dead—you can see it in her eyes. No resolve. No fear, only pain. That should give me peace, but all it does is bring out the protector in me.
“You know who I am?” I demand.
She nods. I reach down to hand her the dress that lay on the floor, but she doesn’t take it.
Broken. Destroyed. And suddenly rage fills me. She doesn’t deserve to die here, and by my hand no less. She doesn’t deserve any of this, yet here we are.
“It’s okay. I know why you are here and I’m not afraid. It’ll be a blessing. I am nothing.” She says all this calmly, almost as if she really does want the bullet to take her pain away.
“Thank you,” she whispers and at last, a tear trickles down her cheek. “This is the second time you’ve saved me. They made me do this.” Her thin white hands touch the man’s blood on the bed.
My head pounds. What the fuck is wrong with me? I need to get this done fast. No witness, no case.
“Why, Daniella?” My voice is gruff.
She looks at her breasts as if she’s only now seeing the blood.
“I want to die. I deserve it.” She looks up at me, past me, her beautiful mind and body abused too many times to handle this world.
“I watched them kill my father.” Her voice holds a slight accent. “Misha. He came and made him put the gun to his head, telling him that he was saving us.” She laughs. “Then after my dad blew his brains out, Misha raped me while my mother and baby sister watched. He told me I had to name you, or he would rape my mother and sister.” She nods. “He took them and left me bleeding on the floor with my father.”
“How did you know or remember where the bodies were?” I demand.
“I didn’t.” She shakes her head. “Misha knew. He gave me a paper and I showed the FBI. I did it so they wouldn’t kill my mama and sister. You must believe me.” She weeps silently. “But Misha lies.”
I hold up my hand to stop her. “What’re their names? Your mother and sister?”
“Olga and Svetlana.”
“You get that, Frosty?”
“Checking. Yeah, that’s them. She’s telling the truth.”
“Daniella, you’re one hundred percent sure it’s Misha Volkov who came and murdered your father and took your family?”
“Yes, it’s Misha. But it’s pointless. They will kill my mother and sister. That’s what they do: rape, kill, steal.” Her voice echoes through the room. “Nobody can stop them, or they die.”
“We’re ready, Ryder.” That’s Edge’s voice in my ear.
I pull out my Glock. Daniella Petrov looks up at me and closes her eyes, and for the first time in my life I hesitate.
My head is at war with my heart. I need to do this, if not for me, then for the club, but this is wrong.
“It’s okay, do it,” she whispers.
I look at her. Twenty-four and so beaten down, death is her only escape. Fuck that.
Lowering my gun, I take a breath. “I’ll rescue your mother and sister, and in return, you don’t testify.”
“They’ll just kill us later.” She shrugs. “I’m dead, we’re dead, any way you look at it, but I will tell the FBI it wasn’t you. I won’t take the stand.”
I lean down to look at her. She’s too young to be haunted and broken. “They won’t be able to touch you or your family, trust me.”
Her big blue eyes are a deep blue, not a clear blue like my Julianna’s, but a dark blue like the deep part of the ocean.
“When the Feds come in the morning, you say the Russians did this as a warning. Tell them Ben was raping you and you don’t know where they took him, you understand?”
She licks her lips and looks around. “You’re not going to kill me?” Her eyes fill with tears.
“No. I’m trusting you to make this right.”
“How will I know when my mother and sister are safe?”
I glance over at Axel who stands with arms crossed at the doorway.
“You’ll have to trust him,” he says. “You make sure you say you were wrong, confused. I don’t care, but you don’t ID him, or I will personally hunt you down, and I won’t have mercy.” Turning, he walks out.
“Time to go, Ryder.” Frosty’s voice breaks into my fucked-up brain.
“Get up. Let me get these sheets.” She nods and stands, her nakedness barely registering with me.
“Was he the only one raping you?” I jerk the bottom sheet off.
Looking at me, she slowly nods. I’m not sure I believe her, but I can’t do much more right now.
“Thank you for saving my family,” she says softly.
“Someday you will be healthy and happy, and that will be my thank you.”