The Bratva's Baby (Wicked Doms 1)

The blond man to my left is eyeing me in a way that makes my skin crawl. Kazimir seduced me, tricked me, then took me, and yet this blond guy is creepier. There’s something about those eyes that look predatory, and it unnerves me. The other man, the burly, dark-haired one, seems more of a gentle giant. There were others where he brought me, but it looks like we’re the only ones who came aboard this plane.

How many of them are there? What will they do with me? What purpose do they have for a girl like me?

My mind reels with the need to escape, the need to formulate a plan. I have no friends at home, my only contact my boss. Whatever country we’re going to must have an American embassy, or some type of police I could go to.

How will I know who to trust? How will I know who’s on their payroll?

The books he checked out of the library were about Russian military leaders, and a name like Kazimir definitely fits the bill.

Are we going to Russia?

My stomach drops. Russia is so very, very far away from home. The only image I have in my mind of Russia is what I know from my youth: cold, distant, and communist. Are they still a communist country? I frown, trying to remember. I really should have paid more attention to these things.

Escape will be difficult with these huge, muscular men everywhere I turn. And then there’s the matter of how far away from home I am. My heart sinks. For now, my purpose is survival. Though I long to be home, I can’t get home if I’m dead.

Will he kill me, though? Does he want to? Why would he? He’s told me he doesn’t wish to harm or rape me, though he doesn’t seem to have any reservations at all about punishing me.

I shiver when I remember his threat. Something tells me punishment is unavoidable at some point. What exactly will that entail?

I was a fool for trusting him. So hungry for human companionship and attention, I ignored every warning sign my intuition sent my way.

I’ve been a fool. Such a fool.

While I’ve been musing, the rest of the men have all woken. Kazimir stretches and looks around the plane, noting that his companions and I are awake. He checks something on his watch and signals for the attendant. They speak in Russian, and when she turns away from him, he looks to all of us.

“We land in twenty minutes. Prepare.”

The other two put their phones away and sit upright, preparing to land. I sit in silence. For now, it’s better that I observe. I’ll wait for instructions, and comply. For now. Fighting when I have no means of escape, and when I’m significantly dwarfed by size and strength, makes no logical sense.

“Do you fear landing?” Kazimir asks. It takes a second for me to realize he’s speaking to me.

“Me?” I ask.

He nods.

“I have no idea,” I tell him, looking away. “I’ve never been on a plane before.”

I’ve never traveled much beyond the county where I grew up, my only moves involving which foster home would take me next.

“Never been on a plane?” he asks. “You prefer traveling by other means?”

I blink, surprised. “Well, no. I don’t travel at all,” I tell him. “I work and live on my own. There’s no time or need to travel.”

I watch his face register surprise. Why does this shock him so? Why does he care?

“They don’t give you paid vacation at your work?”

“Well, of course they do,” I tell him. Why does this embarrass me? “I just don’t like to use it for travel. Travel is expensive. I can’t afford it even if I wanted to go.”

I look away shyly. I don’t want to talk to him about what I can and cannot afford anymore.

“When we land, you’ll feel a dip in your belly as we descend,” he tells me. “And a jolt on impact when the wheels hit the ground.”

Oh, ew. Jolt? Dip in my belly? Why do people do this for fun?

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Well, was I supposed to say something else?”

He shrugs and looks away. “I suppose not. I expected a bit more fear is all.” This man confuses me.

As he predicted, the plane dips and sways and my belly does a somersault. His companions curse and squirm, but I watch us descend as placidly as I can. Below us, outside my window, the sun rises over the horizon, illuminating rows and rows of dull gray houses. Beyond the houses lies a vast patch of green.

The plane lurches and bounces when we land. I hiss out a breath but grip my armrests when the plane races along the runway at a breakneck speed. I breathe in through my nose, steadying my nerves until we come to a halt.