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I nod having my answer. “So, Sergei was going to marry you off to me while you’re carrying his child.” I shake my head. “I’m sorry, I never would’ve kicked you there if I’d known.”
The other man returns and begins tying my legs to the chair.
“Get them out of here,” she says, motioning at the two bodies on the floor.
As they’re dragged away, Natasha begins removing the cutting tools from their slots. Wielding a razor-sharp knife, she stalks toward me. “I will have your confession, even if I have to cut it out of you.”
“My leg, you have to stop the bleeding,” I say, speaking over the pain.
“I don’t have to do shit,” she snaps and presses the barrel of the gun down against my wound.
My groan of agony produces a vicious grin on her face. Retrieving her phone, she holds it up to me. “Are you ready to confess, Sebastian Petrosky?”
“Fuck you,” I pant. The punch to the face was worth the look on hers.
“I don’t have time for these games,” she says as she puts her gun away and begins unfastening my jeans.
“Natasha, I’m giving you and your unborn child one last chance to walk away with your lives. Let me go!”
She ignores me and pulls my dick out. She holds it in one hand while reaching for the sharp knife.
I lurch wildly from side to side in the chair, anything to keep this crazy bitch from cutting my pecker off.
“Stop it, you asshole!” she shrieks.
But I topple over onto the side still strapped to the chair. She leaps on top of me like some deranged animal determined to finish the job. In our struggle, I barely register the commotion behind the door and only look up when a group of men come pouring into the room.
“Bash!”
I turn at the familiar voice. “Stieg! Get her off me!”
They’re pulling Natasha away just as her blade slices my thigh dangerously close to my groin. “Shit!”
“Grab the knife!” Stieg yells. Yuri wrestles Natasha to the ground and sits on her, smashing the side of her face into the grime.
“Tie her hands and get off her,” I order, remembering she’s pregnant even as she screams like a banshee.
“Damn, what the hell was she doing?” Stieg says as he cuts the ties off my wrists. Mikael is untying my ankles.
“She’s fucking crazy, was trying to get her dad off the murder charges,” I say as I rub my raw wrists. Shit, they burn like hell. “Where’s Madison? Is she all right?”
“Yeah, we’ve got her stashed away at Last Call, the security is tighter than Fort Knox.” He helps me up off the floor, he and Mikhael act as my crutches. “Let’s get you out of here.”
“How long have I been down here?” I ask as we make our way into the hallway and then up some old wooden stairs.
“About a day and a half,” Stieg answers. “The Albanians are some tough motherfuckers. We were working on this guy for over a day, but he’d tell us nothing.” He chuckles. “We might still be working on him if it wasn’t for that new wife of yours.”
“Madison?” I grimace. “What did she have to do with it?” We emerge into the kitchen of an old, abandoned farmhouse.
Stieg looks at me and shakes his head. “That woman may have missed her calling.”
“What happened, Stieg?” I ask tersely.
“All right, so this guy isn’t saying shit no matter what we do to him,” he laughs. “But when Madison finds out we’ve got nothing, she asks to be left alone with the guy only she’s carrying her medical bag with her.” He holds his hands up for my silence when I start to talk. “He’s tied down tight, he ain’t going nowhere. We’re outside that room trying to figure out how to fuck this guy up when all of a sudden, the guys screaming like a little eight-year-old girl.”
“What the hell?” I say incredulously.
“We open the door, and Madison’s standing there with a scalpel in her hands and blood smeared on her shirt. But she just looks pissed like we disturbed her in the middle of surgery or something,” he chuckles. “So, then she goes back to work on this guy, sticking the scalpel into an incision just above his hip. Man, this guy starts singing like a canary. That’s how we figured out where you were. It was thanks to Dr. Mads.”
