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I make it about ten feet before I’m tackled from behind.This is so not happening to me right now.
A heavy weight is on my back. A human. I jerk my head back, crashing the back of my skull into his face. It hurts like hell, my damaged scalp screaming. He howls and curses, and his weight shifts.
I roll to my back. Blood is dripping from his mouth, landing on my chest.Hiya, blondie.He’s shifted down and the majority of his weight is on my hips, arms braced by my torso. I can work with that. I reach my arm across my body, trapping his. Using my thighs I arch my hips up and roll my body toward his trapped arm. Suddenly, I’m on top, his arm is trapped, and I’m popping his elbow out of place. He screams. I scoot back, pop up, and run.
Right into a very angry man, holding a gun, pointed right at me. He’s dressed like blondie, also with the tactical pants and boots. He’s shaved his head and has a thick red beard. He’s also not alone, with more men flanking him and circling behind me.
“Stop,” he commands.
My hair gets yanked again, which makes me whimper. I’m not going to cry, because fuck him, that’s why.
“You little bitch.” Blondie pulls my head back and spits a mouthful of bloody saliva in my face. I do take at least some pleasure in seeing his other arm dangling unnaturally from the elbow down.
I stomp on his foot. He has boots on, so I’m sure it doesn’t hurt, but it’s the principle of the matter.
I see Red coming toward me. The gun is gone, but I realize he’s holding thick black zip ties. Blondie twists me so my back is toward Red. I feel his rough hands on my wrists. I feel the plastic wrapping around them. Trapped between the two men, I have nowhere to go. The zip ties tighten painfully. Any more and I’ll lose circulation.
Blondie bends forward and throws me over his shoulder. I start to kick and thrash. He spanks his remaining hand over my ass. Someone grabs my ankles. More zip ties.Fuck.
Blondie starts walking; I see the ground going by under his boots. I hear a car door open. Suddenly I’m thrown into the back seat, bounce, and land on the floorboard. My head cracks against the metal rail where the seat connects to the floor.
And then everything goes black.
CHAPTER15
Sean
“What the hell happened?” I look at Patrick. We’re in my office, both of us holding a glass of whisky. He rubs his hands over his bald head and down his signature red beard before responding.
“The assault went off fine, didn’t take any major losses on our side, lots on theirs, and the building is blown to hell. Popov wasn’t there of course, but we didn’t think he would be.”
I nod. The decision to hit their warehouse wasn’t one taken lightly. However, Popov has been escalating lately, encroaching on territory and trying to weasel into the arms trade business. It was bound to create a problem eventually, and it did a few days ago, which resulted in two of my men getting hurt. They aren’t high in the organization, but it doesn’t matter. Popov spilled Irish blood. My retribution will be severe.
“What about the woman?” I take a sip of the whisky, watching the ice melt and swirl in the brown liquor.
Patrick snorts. “A real handful, that one. Outran us once, hid from us, and to top it all off, she laid Jimmy out pretty good. Had to pop his elbow back in meself. He’s awfully sore about the whole thing.”
I’ll bet he is.“Who is she?” I ask.
“Not a bloody clue. The Bratva isn’t known for having women in their ranks.” He pulls something out of his pocket. “This is the only thing I can find.”
He hands over a surveillance photo. Dimitri Popov and a pretty woman with long dark hair walking into a posh restaurant. “There’s a few more like that,” Patrick says, taking a drink of his own. “Her and him at his office. Going to that spa he owns.”
“A girlfriend?” I ask. Seems unlikely. Popov is known for being a true sadist. The stories I’ve heard are nothing short of disturbing. He’s also never been known to take them into public, and this girl has been all over the place with him.
“I don’t know. But she fights like a cornered banshee. Where ya suppose a lass learns something like that?” Patrick muses.
“Where is she now?”
“Tied up in the basement.” He smiles.
“Here?”
“Aye. Figured we ought to keep the ranks closed for a bit since Popov’s bound to be pissed. Didn’t want to have to leave men guarding her at some other location.”
It’s a good decision, and I tell him so. “Figure out who she is.”
He finishes his whisky and leaves.
