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A second later, I gasp when the door to the stall flies open with a large crashing noise. He literally smashed the door right off its hinges. It’s one of the blond bastards, glaring at me. Holding her by the hair in one fist, he reaches for me with the second. I smack at his hands but it’s useless. He’s bigger and stronger, and she’s doing nothing to defend herself, likely out of fear of what he’ll do. He grabs my arm and hauls me out of the stall. I stumble, banging my head on the door, but before he can do anything to me, a loud, furious voice fills the stall.
“Get your hands off her. I’ve got this.”
Relief floods me so rapidly I’m dizzy with it. Stefan. Oh, thank God. But my relief is short-lived when Stefan’s livid eyes meet mine. My stomach drops straight to my toes. Right now, I’m not really sure he’s a safer bet than the other man.
The other man drops me so quickly, I stumble, grabbing onto the porcelain sink to steady my fall. Stefan is glaring at the man and a muscle ticks in his jaw. His hands are clenched into fists so tight he’s white-knuckled, but his voice remains steady and calm. “What’s going on in here?”
The men speak in rapid-fire Russian, so quickly and furiously I have no idea what they’re saying. The girl hangs her head and won’t look at me. I bet she’s resigned to her fate, now that this asshole’s got her. But when Stefan speaks, she looks up at him. He crosses the room to me and pulls me to him, shielding me from the monster that’s still holding the other woman by the hair.
“Is this true?” Stefan asks.
“Is what true? I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Christ, I’m a terrible liar. My voice shakes and I can’t look at either of them.
“He says you two were in here with the door locked. That you are plotting something. Is that true?”
“No, sir!” I lie. “Never! I came in here to use the bathroom. I don’t even know who she is. And I think the door must’ve been stuck. Neither of us locked it.”
“She lies,” the man says to Stefan, spittle forming in the corner of his mouth like a rabid animal. I shudder and bury my head on Stefan’s chest. “They locked the door. They were conspiring.”
“Conspiring against whom?” Stefan says, smiling at the man, and I know this is an act. He’s feigning nonchalance, but he wants to shake the living daylights out of me and maybe hurt the man.
“Us, of course,” the man says, but Stefan’s question seems to set him off.
“How, brother? We already own them. And this little one here knows that anything less than honesty and submission will get her punished.” He gives me a look that’s no longer playful. “Severely.”
Yeah, I’m toast.
They speak again in Russian, until another man comes to the doorway. The blond man turns to him, says something under his breath, then drags the girl out with him. Stefan’s voice stops him before he leaves, though.
“Just one more thing?” he says, almost casually but for the ticking of his jaw. Blond guy turns and quirks a brow in his direction.
“Don’t ever touch her again. Not one solitary finger.” He shoots him a chilling smile that promises pain and retribution. “In fact, it would be best if you never even look at her again. Do we understand each other?”
Blond man swallows hard. “We do. My apologies, brother.”
Stefan shoots him a chin lift, and the other guy leaves. I’m alone with Stefan in the bathroom, shaking so badly I can hardly stand. He turns me around to face him, wraps his arms around me, and hugs me to his chest. I bury my face on the fabric of his shirt and breathe him in, then out, tucking my arms around his back and holding onto dear life. He brings his mouth to my ear and whispers, “You scared the shit out of me.”
“I’m sorry. I had reasons.”
“Reasons,” he scoffs. “You are in so much goddamn trouble.”
I swallow. “I know. But I have to speak to you alone. Can we leave?”
“Oh, you bet your ass we’re leaving,” he says, taking me by the hand and dragging me out of the bathroom.
I repeat what I know so I don’t forget.
Tomorrow night, ten o’clock, at Long Wharf in the city.Chapter 11StefanI’m so angry, I can hardly see straight. I grind my teeth together so I don’t say something I regret. I’ll have her alone shortly, and she will tell me exactly what the fuck she was doing. It’s bad enough she left my side without permission, in blatant disobedience to my commands. But when I saw that man’s hands on her—fuck, I need to hit something. Break something.
