The Bratva's Captive (Wicked Doms 3)

Where do we go now? What happens next? There are so many questions, but for now I'm just utterly exhausted. I collapse on the small bed in the guest room and wait for him to come to me. A few minutes later, he ducks through the doorway and joins me.

"You might need to sleep on my lap," he says with a dark chuckle.

"Sounds comfortable?" I reply questioningly.

He pulls me onto his chest, and I let my head fall. My eyes close. I'm so tired. So worn out from all that's happened.

"Did they find us? Will they?" I ask on a yawn.

"You let me worry about that," he says, running his hand through my hair. "Sleep now, angel. We'll talk in the morning."

I close my eyes and listen to the steady tempo of his heart. The warmth of the room settles on me and I begin to sink into a deep sleep.

Soon, his steady breaths beneath me tell me he's fallen asleep just before I have.

That night is the first he sleeps without waking.* * *I wake up the next morning before he does and look about the small room. I've fallen a little to the side, no longer flat on his chest but nestled to his side, one of my knees crooked up onto his.

I can't believe he is the man I visited in that desolate cave. The one I prayed would survive. I shouldn't forgive him so easily for the way he's treated me, but he could have taken things so much further.

So much further.

I close my eyes and let myself feel his heartbeat against my cheek, when he weaves his fingers through my hair in a possessive grip. He's awake.

Will he harm me? Or will he find another way to get back at my father?

I will help him.

I hate my father. My father was responsible for this man's torture.

Suddenly, realization hits me with the force of lighting, and I sit up, pushing myself on his chest.

"My God!"

"What is it?"

"I think my subconscious was working while I slept or something."

He waits patiently for my response.

"I told you I caught a glimpse of the man pursuing us in the forest. Likely the one who set fire to the cabin."

"Yes?"

My heartbeat thunders in my chest.

"I saw a tattoo. It looked familiar. And I've been turning it over in my mind ever since. I knew I had seen it somewhere. I assumed it was one of my father's men, but no. It isn't. Each of my father's men has signature tattoos only they can see."

It's clear as day to me now and I wonder why I didn't remember the night before.

He nods. "Go on."

"The man who followed us. I knew him from your group, Maksym. He sat with us during the interrogation."

He frowns.

"Which one?" he asks, and hell, if looks could kill...

"I don't remember which one," I say, pinching the bridge of my nose together as if trying to activate my memory. "I was under duress and they all melded together. I can't really recall. I know one of them asked me questions and he had a little tattoo of a husky on his upper right shoulder and a mandala."

"Vladak," He says. "For fuck's sake, it was Vladak. He's the only one I know that has that tattoo."

"How the hell did he find us?"

I shake my head. "Demyan knew the location, didn't he? Was he to blame?"

"No." He gives me a look that dares me to suggest Demyan isn't trustworthy.

"Okay," I say, holding my hands up in surrender. "If you trust Demyan, can you call him then?"

He shakes his head. "I will, but I can't tell him what happened until I know no one will overhear." Frowning, he works his jaw, mulling things over. "We need to talk to Demyan without question, and we need to go back to the compound."

"Back to the compound?" I ask. "Right back to where we aren't safe? Explain that?"

His eyes come to me, serious but a little saddened. "We aren't safe anywhere, Olena," he says. "Your father will come for you. One of my brothers betrayed us. Even my cabin is gone now, and that was compromised." He closes his eyes, as if the memory pains him.

There is nowhere safe.

Nowhere safe.

"Then we remove whatever threatens us," I say, choosing my words carefully as if I didn't just suggest murder. As if I didn't suggest I band together with him and kill whoever tries to threaten us. As if we didn't begin this relationship with him as my captor.

His response warms me, though, as he embraces me, pulling me even closer to his chest, his grip so tight it's painful.

"We do," he says. "First I need to contact Demyan."

I start at a gentle knock on the door. "Breakfast, you two?"

"Yes, please," Maksym says. "We'll be out in a few minutes, thank you."