Page 6 of Savage Little War

When we return to Las Vegas, we don’t go straight home.

We go to the antique shop.

I know what happens in the back room. And I know why we’re here.

“Take him to the back,” Dmitri tells Ivan and Isaak, who hold the tied up and blindfolded Italian between them as he shouts what I can only assume to be curse words in Italian. Familiar words, unfortunately, even if I don’t know what any of them mean.

With a nod, the men drag him into the antique shop, his angry voice eventually fading away.

I frown as I watch Dmitri turn to me. I know that he’s about to tell me to go home and rest, even after things went fine in New York City. Does he really see me as being so weak, so delicate? How will he treat me once he finds out I’m pregnant with his baby?

“I need your help.”

My eyes widen. “What?”

Dmitri breathes in through his nose, looking uncertain and torn as he pinches the bridge of it. “Luca talked to his cousin about the guard we captured. His name is Milo, and there’s a good chance he was one of the Italians at the farmhouse.”

My stomach drops. One of the men who tortured me may be inside the antique shop right now. “Oh.”

I can’t think of anything else to say. Honestly, I feel paralyzed on the spot.

“I know that I’m asking a lot, but I need you to listen to his voice, really listen, and see if you recognize it,” Dmitri tells me. He looks guilty from just asking this of me.

As much as I don’t want to be within a thousand miles of the men who tried to break me, I know that I’m the key to figuring out who they are so that they can be punished. I need to hear his voice.

“Okay,” I say with a nod.

“Are you sure?” Dmitri asks. “You can say no.”

“I told you I wanted to help,” I reply. “This is how I can do that.”

Dmitri nods before motioning for me to follow him inside. He takes me through the shop and down the hallway, his shoulders stiff. “Move.”

Ivan and Isaak step out of the way after making sure that Milo is properly tied down to a chair with the blindfold now stripped off.

Dmitri turns to me as I cautiously step into the room. “I’ll get him to talk.”

All I can do is nod as I stare at the man. Dark hair. Dark eyes. Neatly trimmed beard. Nothing familiar, but if they’re right about him, I’m finally staring at one of my torturers in the face for the first time.

Dmitri clamps his hand down on Milo’s shoulder, fisting his shirt in his hand. “Were you in Las Vegas a few weeks ago?”

Milo screws his face up at Dmitri and mutters something in Italian.

“English!” Dmitri barks out as he jerks Milo forward before slamming him back against the chair.

“No!” he shouts. His eyes dart to me before rushing away.

Why won’t he look at me for more than a second? Guilty conscience?

Dmitri holds his hand out, and Isaak slaps a blade into it. He presses the tip of the knife against Milo’s cheek, just like they did to me, making him grimace as blood bubbles up under the blade. “Did you flee like the others, like the fucking coward you are?”

“I’m not a coward!” Milo spits out.

I frown, still unsure if his voice sounds familiar or not.

“You’re already pissing me off,” Dmitri grits out as he leans closer to Milo.

Milo suddenly rears forward and slams his head against Dmitri’s, making Dmitri stumble back as blood bursts from his nose. Milo immediately starts laughing. “How’d that feel, pretty boy?”