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“Mikhail! What are you doing?” she blurted out as the car jerked forward.
She grabbed the edges of the passenger seat, holding on for dear life. She looked over at Mikhail in the driver’s seat, his eyes narrowed and his strong hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. She could see the muscles in his jaw tensing and clenching as the engine roared. She glanced at the speedometer and watched nervously as the number climbed higher and higher. The tires screamed down the hot, baked asphalt and kicked up a gale of sand and dust behind them.
“Slow down!” Annika yelped.
Mikhail did not heed her plea. Instead, she felt the car shift into a higher gear. Outside her window, the world was flying by. It was getting more and more difficult to see as the sun disappeared on the horizon. Night was settling across the desert, bringing a chill to the air. The sunny, golden scenery they had driven through to reach Katja’s Cathouse near Crystal, Nevada, was now a shifting mural of shadows and secrets. Annika strained her eyes to see what could possibly be out there to spook Mikhail like this. The road curved around a jutting rock formation, and Mikhail spun the steering wheel, not even braking into the turn. Annika’s body knocked into the door, her shoulder slamming against the window.
“Are you trying to scare me?” she yelped.
“I’m trying to save you,” he snarled back. He realized his security guards must’ve had their tires shot out a few miles back, been run off the road, or worse. He’d been distracted by Annika’s beauty and his growing attraction.
Annika blurted out, “From what—”
Her words cut off abruptly as her eyes landed on the glint of moonlight against something large up ahead. Something shiny and in motion—moving quite quickly. Annika gasped when she realized there were three big vans speeding along with them, just ahead. There was a white van on each side of the road, just hurtling along the rocky ground and blocking Mikhail’s car from veering off the road. Up ahead, the third van seemed to be getting larger by the second somehow. It was black, and nearly blended into the dark landscape until its headlights suddenly came on. The beams of white light momentarily blinded Mikhail and Annika, forcing Mikhail to hit the brakes. Annika flung her hands out and braced herself against the dashboard. When their eyes adjusted to the light, Annika realized just how dire the situation was.
“Oh my god!” she cried. “That van is coming right toward us!”
“Fucking Armenians,” Mikhail swore.
“Who?” Annika yelped, turning to him with huge eyes and a pounding heart.
Mikhail’s hands tightened hard on the steering wheel and his dark brows furrowed. He was deeply concentrating, becoming one with the car as the brakes skidded them to a halt in the middle of the illuminated highway. No sooner had the car stopped than Mikhail hooked his muscular arm around the back of the passenger seat and threw the car into reverse.
Annika felt her stomach drop as the vehicle shot backward. The high beams pulsing into their eyes flickered as the black van went over a small bump in the road. The white vans peeled out in symmetrical circles on either side of the road and started accelerating in the opposite direction, too. Annika could see they were approaching at top speed, seemingly unconcerned about running into them. Whoever these people were, they didn’t have much regard for human life—hers or their own. Mikhail was desperately trying to evade them now, but he couldn’t safely match the vans’ speed in reverse; it was too dangerous. Annika’s heart thumped painfully in her chest as she noticed the vans gaining on them, and fast.
“They’re going to catch up!” she burst out.
Mikhail growled, “I’ll wring their fucking necks.”
But no amount of ferocity could keep them from the inevitable. The car was losing traction as it rocketed backward, and the vans were encroaching on them. Annika could almost see the people inside the vehicles through their tinted windows, they were so close now. Mikhail’s car was fishtailing, unable to keep up in reverse. He did the only thing left to do: slam on the brakes. Annika screamed as the tires squealed and the smell of burning rubber poisoned the air. Plumes of dust wafted up around the vehicle, enrobing them for a moment before the sand cleared. The people in the vans had caught sight of Mikhail’s stopped vehicle. Immediately, the two white vans started speeding toward them, cutting across the desert and climbing onto the asphalt with the crunch of heavy tires. One whipped around behind them, while the other two blocked the road going forward. The car was quickly surrounded.
“What do we do? What do we do?” Annika asked, terrified.
She stared out the windshield at the vans screeching to a halt around them. People were starting to get out of the vans, just shadows moving through the dark desert. Mikhail pulled a gun from inside his jacket and cocked it, all but kicking the driver’s side door open.
“Get down!” he commanded Annika, just seconds before the first gunshot cracked the air.
She dove down, whimpering and covering her head. She heard and felt the weight of Mikhail’s body as he leapt onto the hood of the car, essentially blocking her with his enormous frame. She couldn’t tell where the shots were coming from, only that there had to be a hail of bullets sailing through the air. Annika could simply stay put and plead with fate to allow Mikhail’s survival. It seemed impossible; there were so many of them and just one Mikhail. Her heart ached to imagine the bullets ripping through his body as he tried to protect her. Tears stung her eyes, but she was too afraid to move.
That is until the bullets suddenly stopped. The subsequent silence was almost deafening. Slowly, Annika sat up, her eyes wide with horror. She clapped a hand over her mouth, starting to hyperventilate. Mikhail’s body was still blocking the windshield, but he wasn’t moving anymore. In fact, the only movement came from the shadowy men rushing toward the car.
“No,” Annika whispered frantically, hitting the door locks. “No!”
But they were already upon her, descending like hyenas on their stunned prey. The largest man came up to her side with a wild grin on his face. He raised his semi-automatic weapon and bashed the hilt into the passenger side window, shattering the glass all over Annika. She squealed and tried to wriggle away into the backseat, but the thug thrust his huge, meaty hand through the broken window and grabbed her by the sleeve. He yanked her back and began to drag her out through the window. Annika kicked and screeched like a cornered hellcat, doing everything in her power to escape. But his grasp was too tight. He pulled her up through the window. Annika felt her bare skin scrape against the shards of glass still stuck in the frame. But that pain was far away. The adrenaline was pumping so hard, she wouldn’t notice all the cuts and scrapes until later. She was distracted by the horrific sight of her future husband laid out across the windshield, slumping over like he was badly wounded. Or worse.
“Mikhail!” Annika wailed, reaching out desperately for him as the big man threw her over his shoulder.
She beat her delicate fists against his broad back and kicked as hard as she could, but nothing seemed to faze him at all. Tears pulsed down Annika’s face. The man carried her to the black van ahead on the road. Someone inside the van slid the side door open, and the big man tossed her inside. Annika screamed at the many hands grabbing at her, but then something cool and wet was pressed against her face, and the world went dark.
The music…what the hell was this music?
Annika groaned as her eyelids fluttered open. Every inch of her body ached. When she tried to move, she immediately cried out and lay still again. It was too much. Her eyes blinked in the darkness, trying to make sense of her surroundings. Her mind was so groggy, like she was underwater. Her vision swam. Her limbs trembled. She was sweaty, but cold enough to shiver. Goosebumps covered her skin from head to toe. She slowly began to examine herself by feel alone, trying to figure out what was going on. There were cuts down her arms and legs, and a stinging slash across her lower left cheek. She winced as she discovered each tiny wound. As she moved ever so slightly, her wounds scraped along the hard floor beneath her.
There was some kind of folk music playing at a high volume, seeming to come from everywhere at once. The lyrics were in a language she didn’t recognize. It sounded like a recording of traditional music, something that wouldn’t play on the radio.
She began to feel around and noticed that the floor seemed to be some kind of tightly woven fabric. It was cheap carpet, and it smelled rather dank. Slowly, Annika gathered the strength to sit up. Her head spun with that simple movement, and she pressed her forehead into her hands, groaning in pain. When she dropped her hands, she looked around, gradually noticing the peeling cactus-print wallpaper, a locked black toolbox, a small standing fan blowing stale air at her, and a row of plywood cabinets on the wall. It was a small room with a closed door and a window with the plastic shutter drawn. Annika focused and realized she could hear the faint but distinct sound of male voices from outside, just underneath the loud layer of music playing.
Where the hell was she?
