The Cleaner (Chicago Bratva 7) - Page 46

No matter.

Dropping back to my knees, I corral the knife between my two knees, then pinch them together and lift to pass it up to my wiggling fingers. I drop it twice, cursing and shaking with the effort, but I finally catch it in my fingers. It takes some work but I'm able to wrench it open and awkwardly turn it to saw off the zip tie.

Free!

“Kateryna!” I shout again. I would tell her I’m coming, but that would tip off the crew if they speak English.

She shrieks like someone hit her.

They will die. In the next sixty seconds.

I find the gun and ammo in my bag, load the pistol, and run toward the sound of Kat’s screams.

I find two of the assholes crowded in the doorway, two more inside, and one trying to mount Kat on the bed as she fights like a little wild cat.

I aim and fire one shot almost point-blank.

Then another.

A third.

I don't get to fire the fourth because I'm attacked by George, who knocks me to the ground. The gun skitters across the floor. He punches me in the ear, gets an uppercut to my jaw before I manage to elbow him in the nose then flip our bodies, so I'm on top.

My vision bleeds red. I’m taking revenge, not just for Kat, but for Nadia and every other human being ever treated like property. Ever abused for someone else’s amusement.

By now, the asshole who was on top of Kat has joined the fight, though. He wraps a meaty arm under my chin to choke off my air. It only turns me more ferocious. I use his grip on me, lifting both my feet to deliver a knockout blow to the guy beneath me.

I struggle, but I can't seem to get myself free of Grigor's hold. I twist and turn, throw elbows, and kick behind me to no avail. My vision starts to turn hazy around the edges then black. Stars dance before my eyes. The sound of Kat’s sobs keeps me fighting. If I go down, she'll be alone with this guy. There’s no way he wouldn’t take out his rage at what I’ve done on her. I can't let that happen.

As my vision dims, the crack of metal hitting bone rings in my ears, and then I'm suddenly free falling to my knees. Gasping for breath. I stagger back to my feet to find Kat standing behind my assailant with a long-handled pipe wrench in her hands. She looks wild and vicious. Her lip is bleeding, and there’s a red mark on her cheek that looks like it will bruise.

Grigor collapses to the side. I pick up the pistol and place a bullet in his head and another in George’s.

“Kat,” I croak, regret so deep I’m drowning in it.

It’s unforgivable. I can't believe I did this to her. I want to punch my own face in. Shoot my own kneecaps.

But instead of hitting me with the wrench, she drops it and launches herself into my arms, her legs wrapping tightly around my waist, her arms strangling me.

“Kat,” I choke again. I drop the pistol and hold her, walking swiftly out of the room and away from the horrible scene. I don't want her to have to look at the mess I made of the crew. The faces of the men who tried to rape her.

“I'm so fucking sorry. So damn sorry.” I carry her up to the deck to suck in the sea air. “I never should have let this happen to you.”

She squeezes me even tighter. I can feel her shaking, and now I wish I hadn’t brought her out here where it’s cold. I carry her to the helm. “Adrian,” she gasps. “Who’s going to sail the ship?”

“Listen to me, Kat.” I sit her down on the counter and clasp her head in my hands. “I’m going to get you off this ship. I just need to get a little closer to land, and then we’ll take the tender to shore.”

She nods her head. “Yeah. Okay.”

Relief that she at least trusts me enough to get her out of this shitstorm hits me square in the chest. I don’t deserve one speck of that trust, but I cling to it, anyway.

“Come here.” I wrap her in my arms again. “Tell me you’re okay. Please, tell me he didn’t—”

“No,” she says. “I kicked him in the balls.”

I cradle her face in my hands and press a kiss to her forehead. “Good girl.”

“Adrian–” She blinks tears back. “What happened to Nadia?”

My own eyes sting, and for a moment, I can’t speak at all. Then I simply nod.

Her lips tremble. “Is my dad a sex trafficker?”

My stomach’s tied up in a knot. I wanted to keep this from her, to not taint her with the worst of it, but it’s too late. I allowed her to be tainted by bringing her on this ship. Treating her like a slave.

Tags: Renee Rose Chicago Bratva Romance
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