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I stand against the sink, crossing my arms, waiting for him to leave. But he doesn’t. He turns, that evil smile still planted on his face as he walks for the door and locks us in. “Get in,” he orders.
I shake my head. “I need a moment alone. It’s that time of the month. Please.”
He stomps toward me, huffing angrily, and grips my hair again. He pulls my head with force, shoving it back so I’m looking into his dead eyes. “Get in the fucking shower before you make me throw your ass in.” His hand grips one of my breasts. “And I clean you myself.”
I push away, sighing with relief when he releases me. Turning my back, I slide my dress off and step into the shower. The door is glass, giving him a clear view of me. But that’s the least of my worries right now. He can see my naked body, but I don’t think I could handle him touching me, forcing himself into me.
My lips quiver as the warm water falls over me, and I scrub frantically at my skin, wishing the day away. My hair is next, and I let the water fall on my face. I don’t focus on where I am, don’t pay attention to what Vlad is doing.
I let the images come back. Scotty is holding me in the rain, his mouth against the cut on my hand. He kisses it, then my wrist. His warm lips trail along my arm, to the inside of my elbow, and the rain grows heavier. With each press of his mouth to my skin, I’m floating higher and higher.
Until the door swings open and a hand is pulling me out by my hair. I groan, the burning of my scalp causing tears to push through.
“Took you long enough,” Vlad snaps, shoving the towel at me.
My heart sinks, and I wrap myself in the towel. His gaze glides along my body, but he doesn’t make a move. Does he really draw the line somewhere? Kidnapping yes, violating someone no? I don’t know if I can believe that.
His hand grips a second towel, and he softly dabs my hair, drying the soaked strands with quiet precision. When it’s no longer dripping, he drops the towel, and his fingers run through my hair, detangling the wet strands.
I close my eyes, trying to focus on anything else. Anything but whatever the fuck is happening right now. This … whatever this is. Caring? It doesn’t match up with the rough way he’s been handling me. How am I supposed to get a read on him?
“Sit.” He points to the sink.
I listen, climbing up, and facing him.
He tugs at the tie around his neck. “Don’t fucking move,” he snaps, undressing himself.
My heart rate speeds up. God, he really is going to do it.Rapeme.
“I need to shower. But if you leave this bathroom, know that Fyodor was given permission to do whatever he wants to you.” His gaze drags along my body. “And you leaving like this …” He chuckles, amused with whatever images he’s conjured. “You’ll be lucky if he doesn’t fuck you in the hall.”
I gasp, shooting backward. My back hits the mirror. Vlad laughs, shaking his head as he climbs into the shower next. I don’t dare to move, just sit there, clutching the towel around my body.
“Just know, sweetheart. The only reason I’m giving you even an ounce of hospitality is because you’ll be my wife. But if you step out of line, I won’t hesitate to punish you,” Vlad calls from the shower. “We can be friends, or we can be enemies. The choice is yours.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Thenecklaceiscrushedon the floor by a mattress. Blood is caked to one end, where her head probably lay. She’s injured, I have no idea where she is, and it’s making me insane.
“Over here,” Corbin calls.
He and Declan managed to catch up to us in their own vehicle, despite me trying to leave them behind. I turn, heading to where he is, bending to pick up the broken necklace.They knew what it was.
“Where the fuck is she?” I scrub a hand down my face, taking in anything that could be used as a clue.
Yuliya comes from the basement of the warehouse, dragging a tied up man behind her. She sets him in front of her, then kicks at his ribs. “I’ll bet he can tell us.”
He groans, bleached white hair covered in blood. He can’t be more than twenty, maybe twenty-two. His young age either makes him easy to break if I tap into his fear, or too foolish to realize he’s doomed to die.
I head for them, walking slowly as I fold up the white sleeves of my dress shirt. “Where is Saoirse Murphy?”
A laugh escapes him as I drop to a knee, and pull the pistol from its holster at my back.
“Where is she?” I ask again, pressing the barrel against the bridge of his forehead.
“She’s busy getting railed by the nextpakhan.”
Corbin snorts behind me. “Wrong answer buddy. Now he’s going to make your death slow.”
