Tomas curses under his breath but nods, then barks out commands to the men behind him to take the prisoner and bring Erik inside.
“There are three of you and two women,” he says to me. His eyes are as hard as flint, and I realize immediately our new pakhan doesn’t fuck around. “Explain.”
I tell him how Erik’s tribute escaped.
“And yet the other two did not run?” he asks, eying them curiously. “Either they’re not as brave as the other, or you’ve treated them better.”
Tomas turns to the men behind him and issues orders in rapid Russian. Four men leave at a trot. He’s commanded them to find the escapee.
I don’t respond. I don’t want him to know I have any attachment whatsoever to Marissa.
“Bring them in. Have them seen to.” I look to Marissa. Her eyes are wide in panic. I want to reassure her that everything will be fine, that I won’t let any harm come to her.
“She’s a little skittish,” I tell Tomas. “Might be more cooperative if I bring her in myself.”
“She’s beautiful,” he says, giving her an appreciative once over. My blood thrums through my veins, molten and dangerous, my pulse quickening with the need to kill anyone that even looks at her.
“She is.” My voice is tight. Is he testing me?
He holds my gaze for long seconds.
“No longer a virgin?”
I shake my head once, keeping my temper in check with difficulty. “No, sir.”
His eyes go to her once more. “Is she well trained?”
If I show she isn’t well trained, I risk him wanting to do the job himself and outing myself as incapable of following orders. If I show she is, he might want her for himself. Hell, he probably already fucking does.
Instead of telling him, I decide to show him. I snap my fingers to Marissa and point to the ground in front of me. Head bowed, she walks to me and stands beside me.
“She is,” I tell him. “But she needs medical attention.” If I can get her away from him, I buy us time.
“You all do. Take them to the infirmary,” he tells a man beside him. He looks quickly from me to Yakov. “We’ll talk tonight during your induction.”Chapter 17Marissa
Everything here is unfamiliar, and I draw instinctively closer to Nicolai. I have no idea what to expect next, and that frightens me. He told me to trust him. Can I, after all that’s happened?
Every moment I spend with him erases the cobwebs from my mind and reminds me that I’m his. I’m no longer bound to the abuse I suffered at the hands of those who stole me. Every time Nicolai touches me, speaks to me, or looks at me with those vibrant blue, possessive eyes, a little bit of me heals.
I wonder where the woman who ran went. If she’ll find her way back home, if she even remembers where she came from. If she’ll go to the authorities and report them. She poses a threat, but I don’t blame her. What we’ve experienced is an utter crime against humanity, and it’s only natural to want to escape from whatever comes next.
What will happen next? How will Nicolai and I free ourselves once and for all from the grip of those that threaten our safety? I want to run as badly as she does, but I’ll never run from him. Never. I don’t care if they kill us. I’ll die by his side rather than spend another minute apart from him.
Two armed guards bring me, Nicolai, and the other two into a massive building. It’s luxurious, set apart from the inner city on a grassy knoll, surrounded by the tallest gates I’ve ever seen. There are cameras positioned at odd angles, and I get the distinct impression this place has maximum security. Even if someone did get through these gates, I couldn’t imagine facing the men who escort us now. They’re huge, muscled, and intimidating as hell.
“This way,” one man says. His accent is similar to Nicolai’s, but a little more subdued. Like the rest, he’s large and muscular, dressed in black jeans and a sleeveless black shirt. Like Nicolai, he’s covered in ink.
He brings us to a large door with two panels to the left, swipes a card through, and the door clicks unlocked. He jerks his head for Nicolai to go in first. I follow.
“The infirmary,” as the leader called it, looks like a small, but well-equipped medical room. Hospital beds lay side-by-side, and the glass fronted cabinets in front of us display a variety of first aid materials. These guys don’t fool around. I stifle a shiver. What sorts of things do they do that require them to have an on-site medical facility like this? I grew up familiar with Bratva life, but I suspect now I didn’t know the half of what actually went on.