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“Bring your computer man, he can get inside and find what he needs while you stand guard.” I freeze but make sure to keep my shock from showing.
“I don’t know what the hell––”
“I know everything, Gage Sanders, don’t take me for a fool. You have four days to prepare your brothers and computer man, you won’t get another chance like this.”
“Who the hell are you and why should I believe you?” Anger laces each of my words. She finally steps into the light and fuck me, she is beautiful. Her blonde shoulder length hair looks almost white. She has piercing blue eyes that remind me of the sky, wearing a blue, sequined dress that hugs her curves in all the right places. And her legs, they are so long and the perfect length to wrap around my waist.
“If he ever found out I was here speaking with you, he would kill me.” She moves forward until there is a small amount of space left between us and hands me an envelope, her eyes bore into mine. “If you tell anyone, even your brother’s about the contents of that envelope, I’ll make sure you never find it.” With that said she turns to leave, going back toward the shadows but I call out stopping her.
“Tell me your name,” I demand, her shoulders sag slightly before she composes herself and holds her head high, while continuing to walk back into the shadows. Before her silhouette can disappear from sight, she says, so low I would have missed it if I hadn’t been paying such close attention to her,
“My name is Anya Volkov.”
Oh, fuck!
I shake out of it and quickly head back around the front to my position. I’m on high alert now and can feel the tension radiating through my body. I just met the daughter of the Pakhan and she just gave me a way into his home. Can I trust her? I ponder over that thought as I discreetly open the envelope she gave me. It’s a polaroid picture, I flip it over and everything inside me freezes, my heart skips a beat and everything begins to get hazy as I stare down at the picture in my hand. Chained like a dog to the wall, naked and bruised looking so malnourished and dejected. Blood and dirt caked all over, chunks of hair missing, eyes that once seemed so bright and full of life are filled with nothing but pain. I stuff the photo in my pocket and make a vow, Anya Volkov will fucking pay for this stunt even if it’s the last fucking thing I do!
