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“Straighten your back,” Mikhail told the young woman as she stood several feet in front of him. “Your aim will benefit from good posture.”
“It feels wrong to throw this,” Annika replied, glancing back at him over her shoulder with a worried expression.
In one hand, she clasped the smooth, carved handle of a small throwing knife. But she held it gingerly away from herself, like she was afraid it might explode or something. Mikhail couldn’t hold back a chuckle.
“You don’t have to throw yet. Just work on your stance for now,” he instructed her.
In the meantime, Mikhail was enjoying the view. Sure, the desert itself was rife with natural beauty as far as the eye could see. But it was Annika who held his attention. Mikhail admired the slender curves of her dainty frame. She looked so willowy and delicate; his hands itched to swoop her away into his arms. He knew how easy it was to carry her off, and there were lots of things he wanted to do with her, out here in the middle of nowhere. There was no one to interrupt them, whether they were practicing self-defense out front or fucking in the cabin.
He knew where the security cameras were located on the property, as he had been the one to oversee their installation years ago. As their power and influence had grown, the Sokolov crime family had developed a need for a private place, away from the prying eyes of the city, where members could retreat. It was the perfect spot to lie low, since there was no cell service, no Wi-Fi, no gas stations, not even a fully paved road to get there. Mikhail hadn’t even attempted to bring his slick black sedan here. He had driven them both out in a big, clunky truck with special tires and the suspension necessary to survive the bumpy ride. Despite being behind the steering wheel, the way in felt more like a hike than a drive.
The wooden log cabin sat on a quiet stretch of land surrounded by miles and miles of empty desert on all sides. It contained all the necessary creature comforts such as running water and electricity, and it was furnished starkly but sufficiently. There was a bedroom with a double bed, and another larger room filled with bunk beds, like a hostel. The kitchenette offered the basics, and the cabin boasted two entire bathrooms, though one of them was clearly not designed for privacy or comfort. The larger bathroom was more of a collection of shower stalls and three sinks. The cabin had been built to meet the needs of a solitary resident as well as supporting a larger group. There were times when entire battalions of new recruits were sent out to the desert cabin for training. A rotating group of Sokolov Brodyaga were assigned to keep up the property, making regular drives in for maintenance, cleaning, re-stocking, or to collect the surveillance tapes for review. The tapes were just about the most boring content in the world, considering there had never been a single trespasser on the property in all the years of owning it. The most exciting sight occurred when some wild animal happened to wander across the frame.
The cabin was off-grid enough to fly under the radar, and Mikhail felt perfectly safe with Annika here, knowing the Baranovs would have a damn near impossible time finding them. Even the Armenians, who had also established a home base in the desert, had never set foot on the lot. The so-called ‘road’ leading to the cabin was unmarked, just the faintest hint of a gravel turnoff at the highway. If not for the coordinates seared into Mikhail’s head, there would be almost no way to find the place. He had complete control of the area. He even patrolled the perimeter on a semi-regular basis, keeping a set of binoculars handy to spot any incoming threat. Not that there ever was one.
But Mikhail was cautious; he had more to lose than ever before. He had Annika. She looked so goddamn good in that black, stretchy sports bra and workout shorts. The merciless desert sun beat down on her pale skin and gleamed through her glossy black ponytail. He saw a shiny bead of sweat roll down the back of her neck. She was standing rather awkwardly with one of his throwing knives, her form still not where he wanted it.
“Here. Be still,” he said, coming up behind her.
Mikhail slid his strong arms around her slender body. She shivered and leaned into him eagerly. Desire erupted like a flame inside of him, but he brushed it off.
He leaned in close to her ear and murmured, “Stand straight. Feet square with your shoulders. Look at the target.”
There was a wooden bullseye target set up about ten yards away. Annika stared straight ahead. Mikhail helped mold her arms and body into the proper form for a throw. Annika listened closely and followed instructions.
Despite their rather difficult start, she had come around and become a great student. She was eager to learn, and she was clever as hell. Mikhail was continually amazed by her capacity to pick up new skills. Since that fateful family dinner two days ago, the pair had been working nonstop on self-defense. It was Mikhail who Egor wanted to harm, but he knew the Baranov bastard wouldn’t hesitate to hurt his own daughter if she got in the way. If he was willing to kill Mikhail’s mother just to undermine Vasili’s reign, there was no limitation on what the Baranov bastard would do.
Now that she was almost perpetually glued to Mikhail’s side, it was of vital significance that Annika learned to handle herself in a dangerous situation. He would protect her against all costs, but there was still a slim chance someone might get past him. His mother could’ve been saved, if only she’d understood the danger she’d been in. Vasili had been too proud, too delicate with his wife to insist that she take a security team with her at all times. The truth was that the women of the organization were always at risk. A man like Egor cared nothing for honor or respect. He would just as readily hurt a woman as a man, and his own daughter was clearly nothing but a pawn to him. Egor would gladly hurt Annika if it meant securing his own power.
Mikhail refused to let that happen.
“Feel that tension in your forearm?” he whispered to her.
Annika nodded, her eyes still locked on the bullseye.
“Good. Now, I want you to visualize throwing through the target, not at it,” he urged.
“Won’t the knife get stuck in the wood?” she asked, her gaze unwavering.
“Da. But in order to get the full force of a throw, you have to show follow-through. The moment doesn’t end when the knife leaves your hand. It ends when the knife hits the target.”
“Who am I attacking?” Annika muttered.
Mikhail smirked. “Whoever you hate the most. Visualize that.”
Annika nodded, a grimace on her pretty face. She was concentrating hard, and Mikhail could almost feel the adrenaline rush in her veins as she raised the knife. He stepped back only when she struck the perfect throwing stance, holding up his hands. He didn’t want to influence her throw; she was focused on it now. He held his breath while he watched her rear back, her whole body tensing up for the attack. She let out a little grunt of effort as she hurled the knife at the target. Mikhail half-expected this first attempt to fall short or fly wide and miss. But to his delight, the knife cut through the air with a sharp whistling sound. It shot straight ahead, almost as though fired from a gun. There was a loudthunkas the knife struck wood. Annika began jumping up and down and cheering; her knife was lodged in the center ring.
Mikhail burst into prideful laughter, rushing to scoop her into his arms for a big, congratulatory kiss. “Holy fuck!” he exclaimed. “You hit it on the first try!”
“I must be a natural,” she beamed back, “or maybe I just have the perfect teacher.”
“You fucking killed it, Annika. But I have to know, who the hell would you have just murdered with that throw?” he inquired curiously.
A serious look cast over her face. She clenched her teeth and sighed, turning to stare daggers at the target. There was so much hate in her eyes, it was hard to believe there wasn’t a living, breathing enemy right in front of her.
“My father,” Annika growled softly. “I can picture that knife embedded in his throat.”
“Hatredthatpersonal can blind you if you’re not careful,” he warned her, though he was honestly just proud of her. “But you can let it guide you instead.”
