Nate - Page 66

I leaned forward, ready to spring, when the door behind her burst open.

She turned. “Here’s your little bitch, as promised. I expect you to keep your side of the agreement and allow me to stay on as the head of the—”

A gunshot boomed through the room, and Opal dropped to the floor, her dead eyes looking through me.

Dmitri tucked his gun into the holster at his chest. “Dumb bitch.” Turning his gaze to me, he gave me a wide smile. “Little kukla, we meet again.”

I lunged for the gun in Opal’s hand. Dmitri was faster, kicking it away and tackling me to the ground. He settled on top of me as I screamed and tried to claw his face. Grabbing my wrists, he pinned them to the floor, crushing them with his weight. I tried to remember my training, to channel my inner David to get out of this situation. But every time I tried to buck Dmitri off, he chuckled and forced me back down. On the third attempt, he slammed my skull against the floor and sparks burst in my vision.

“I never took you for much of a fighter.” He leered. “Though I guess I should have. Your mother put up quite a fuss when I first got her. She’s different now. Broken, like you’re going to be.”

I spit in his face. “I’m going to kill you.”

“No.” He licked my face, his hot tongue making me gag. “You’re not. You’re going to be mine for as long as I want you. And when I’m done with you, I’ll give you to my men to pass around. And when they’re done with you, I’ll kill you. Slowly.” He put one hand on my neck and squeezed. “I’ll do it with my hands just like this so I can see the life leave you. When your little doll eyes go dark, I’ll be the last thing you see.”

“Fuck you,” I gritted out as he increased the pressure on my windpipe. “Nate—”

“Is dead or dying. My men at the airfield had very specific instructions. They’ll bring me his head before the night is out. I’ll set it on a special shelf in my room so he can watch as I fuck you.”

“No. You’re a liar.” The words caught in my throat as he squeezed. Nate wasn’t dead. I don’t care how many men Dmitri had sent for him, he couldn’t be dead. My heart repeated the denial over and over even as my mind began to process Nate’s slim odds of survival. “No,” I repeated as he stared at me with unfathomably dark eyes.

“Don’t worry, little kukla. In a few hours, you won’t even be thinking about him anymore. You’ll be too concerned about what I’m doing to you.” He whistled, and three large men entered the room. “Take my prize out to the car.”

I struggled as the largest man grabbed me by the hair and yanked me up. He threw me over his shoulder as another man slid zip ties onto my wrists and ankles and stuffed a handkerchief into my mouth. I gagged and tried to spit it out as I was carried down the steps. The harsh smell of gasoline met my nose, and I saw George’s body lying in a pool of blood by the foot of the stairs. The bodies of two Russians at the front door told me that George had died trying to defend this house, to defend me. I tried to kick the man who carried me, but he gripped my thigh hard enough to make me scream.

As they carried me outside, smoke was already pouring from the back side of the house, orange flames lighting up the night sky. I wriggled and elbowed my kidnapper in the back, though I knew I wouldn’t escape.

The Russian thug sat me down next to an open car trunk and backhanded me so hard my vision went black. By the time I was able to open my eyes, there was nothing to see except the midnight interior of the closed trunk.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Nate

Gunshots pelted the exterior of the hangar. Peter and I knelt behind pallets full of airplane parts and machinery. I’d lost more men than I cared to think about, not that I had time to think when the reaper was breathing down my neck.

I reloaded my Glock. with my last clip. My Uzi was long gone. Peter was down to two handguns, no reloads. Outgunned and outnumbered, all we could do was hunker down and make our last stand. Several sets of footsteps echoed through the cavernous space as our assailants, cocky with victory, made their way toward us. My men from the waterfront wouldn’t make it in time. We’d been mowed down man by man, the airfield turning into a slaughterhouse. Dmitri’s men took no prisoners.

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