When we were almost at the gangplank, I heard, “Get this mutt out of here!”
I looked over my shoulder. The captain was trying to shoo Rufus away from the container, but Rufus had his nose inside, sniffing. Then he started pawing at the potatoes, slowly at first and then faster, as if he was trying to burrow into the pile.
He looked at me and barked.
I drew in my breath and twisted around, shaking the cops off me. Then I was sprinting back down the ship, shoving the captain out of the way, and joining Rufus in front of the open container. I burrowed alongside him, shoving my arms into the pile and tossing huge armfuls of potatoes over my shoulders. I worked frantically, hearing the cops pounding down the deck towards me—
Three feet in, my hands hit metal. I shoved the potatoes aside and found a metal wall...and a door. The captain and the cops arrived just in time to see me wrench it open. The inside was covered in thick, red padding. “Bethany?” I yelled.
Running footsteps, muffled by the padding.
And then she shot out of the door and whumped into my chest.
A lot happened very quickly.
Rufus went beserk, jumping up and woofing and putting his front paws on Bethany’s shoulders and trying to lick her face even as I kissed her.
The other women started scrambling out of the container, blinking in the bright sunlight, some of them sobbing in relief.
The older cop stared in shock at the women climbing out of the container. Then his face darkened and he drew his gun and spun to face the captain, who had started to back away down the deck. “You! Hands where I can see them!” he bellowed. The captain reluctantly raised his hands.
And Bethany and me...we just clung to each other. She was hanging onto me like a monkey, arms and legs wrapped around me, and I was crushing her to me and kissing her madly, panting with relief at having her back. She kept saying something between kisses and I couldn’t make it out at first, but then I got it. You’re alive, she was saying. You’re really alive. I nodded. I was alive and she was safe and I was never letting her go again.
And then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement. A man stepping out of a doorway, behind where the cops were handcuffing the captain.
Ralavich.
70
Ralavich
I WAS IN A FOUL MOOD. Over two weeks since I’d first taken delivery of the little bitch and I hadn’t even had a chance to fuck her yet. Now I’d have to do it in a cramped cabin instead of a luxurious room at the mansion. Then I’d heard shouting, and the engines had stopped. I’d grabbed the assault rifle I keep in my cabin for protection and marched upstairs to see what was going on. That’s when I saw him, that big oaf in the plaid shirt, with his hands all over Bethany, and all my other girls spilling out of the cargo container. How is he alive? Then I realized that I hadn’t heard from Alik. The big bastard must have killed him.
The rage flashed through me. I pushed open the door and stepped out onto the deck—
That was when I saw the two Port Authority cops handcuffing Vladimir. Shit. And then I heard sirens wailing in the distance. I had to get out of here. Losing the girls hurt. Losing one as special as Bethany hurt even more. But it wasn’t worth going to jail for. Better to slip away quietly and go back to St. Petersburg. I could find another supplier for my brothels: there was always the Austrian. And once things had calmed down, I could track down Bethany and send someone to kill that big prick and steal her back. But first, I had to get out of here. And to do that, I needed a diversion.
I raised my gun and fired at the Port Authority cops, the gun kicking and spraying wildly. Everyone screamed and ducked for cover, but I kept firing until I saw one of them fall. Then I ran to the gangplank and started down it to the docks.
71
Bethany
THE FIRST WARNING I had that anything was wrong was when Cal suddenly spun us around. Then gunfire came from behind him and I realized he’d put himself between it and me. I screamed and tensed, waiting for his body to jerk against mine as a bullet hit him. But the impact never came. Then I heard running footsteps and he slowly released me.
When we turned around, we saw the older of the two cops on the deck, his hands to his stomach. Blood was soaking his uniform and slicking his hands. The other cop was kneeling over him, shouting his name, hysterical.