Chapter 24 - Parker

My eyes and nose burned as I came to consciousness, no doubt a side effect of the chloroform, and I felt like I might be sick from the immediate stench of stale water and sewage around me. I tried to blink through the fuzzy vision, and my memory cleared with a hard slap.

Lev!

I shot up in the chair but was stopped short by the binds on my wrists that held me down. Pain ripped through my skin like fire, and I realized that the metal chair that I sat on was digging into my ribs and hips as well.

"Fuck."

Looking around me, being all too aware of the fact that I'd been kidnapped by some asshole out of Lev's house of all the places, I was greeted with the dingy sights of an abandoned warehouse. I could smell water behind the stench. I had to be near the lake.

The room was dark, sporadic orange lights dimly glowing from the ceiling tens of feet above me. Everything was damp for some fucking reason, and my wrists began to ache more and more with every second. I rolled them as best I could, pinpointing that whatever held each one was thin and had some type of plastic tail that poked me in the palm.

"Zipties?"

I wasn't sure why it mattered, but my brain focusing on what was holding me was somehow keeping me level. I wasn't freaking out as long as I could think about the intricacies of the situation—read my surroundings for input.

So, I did.

The building"s windows were coated with a thick layer of grime, making the dark corners even more foreboding. It looked like something out of a low-budget horror film. The emptiness and echoes only added to the eerie atmosphere, and I couldn"t imagine what this place could have been used for before it fell into disuse and neglect. Based on its current state, it seemed like it had been abandoned for quite some time, except perhaps for its use as a holding place for hostages.

I was stranded in the middle of the room like I was stuck on some island without hope of being rescued.

Come on, don"t think like that. You"re gonna get out of here. Lev will come.

But that"s when the nervous energy started back in again. I was left sitting on that damn metal chair, terrified that I wasn"t going to see the man who had brought me into his house ever again.

And the moment that external focus died, the moment I realized I had nothing left to pick apart, the panic doubled—tripled. This had to be my father, and I knew that he had to be after Lev. Why else would he fucking do it. He didn't give a shit about me.

"Help!"

It was dumb. Everyone knows you don't yell for help because no one responds to that shit, but my instincts were flailing for anything to do.

"Help!"

My voice echoed for too long, and I began to worry that I was in this giant building all alone.

Out of the darkness around me stepped several intimidating men. They were no Unholy Trinity, but fear trickled down my spine regardless, and my voice died in my throat.

One of them pulled away from the pack, coming closer to me enough so that I could see the butt of a gun sticking out from his waistband. His clothes were an interesting blend between overly casual and too nice, a pair of ripped jeans paired with a button-down shirt and a tie. He had long hair tied into a ponytail at the back of his neck and it was slicked back from his forehead that showcased a widow"s peak.

"Ain't no one coming for you bitch, so knock it off."

He had an Irish accent, and I clenched my jaw, refusing to let it tremble.

"You should be careful carrying your gun like light. I'd hate for you to blow your dick off."

The guy was at me in a heartbeat, yanking the hair I'd pulled into a ponytail before getting kidnapped—again—and angling my face up toward him.

"Watch yer fucking mouth, bitch. I'm supposed to keep you alive, but ain't nothing been said about yer teeth."

I didn't flinch as he tossed my head back down, fighting against the urge to scream, to cry, to yell. I knew none of it would serve me right now. So I did the only thing that might, I studied them. I searched for obvious signs of injuries, for limps or bad reaction time. I'd take anything that might get me out of here alive.

The guy who'd come up to me walked back, and I could tell he was favoring his right arm. Something had happened to the other. He was holding it too close to his body.

That was one.

The lineup of men he returned to didn't move enough for me to get a good read, but the one at the far end had an obvious black eye.

That's two.

All right, but that's not enough. I need—

"Aww, look who's awake."

My thoughts were cut short, and my mouth fell open. I'd know that voice anywhere.

"Dad."

"Wakey wakey, baby. You want eggs?"

I just glared.

"Oh, that's right. I never made that shit. You had to take care of yourself like all children should. But the lot of you are whiny, lazy assholes."

"Why are you doing this? I realize we don't have a relationship. I was fucking fine with it. But why rope me into all this shit? You can't possibly hate me that much. It'd be too much work."

He sauntered over, that limp I was looking for present here, and a tiny flicker of hope bloomed in my chest.

"Ah, you're right. I don't really hate you that much. But I do hate this fucking position I'm in. I'm better than some fucking loan shark. I deserve better. So, I'm taking it. One Vadim family member at a time."

Disgust pooled in my gut like acid. This was really about some fucking bid to move up the mafia ranks. My father was trying to be a mobster. What the hell was the world coming to?

"And how exactly are you going to do that, hmm? You can't handle Lev and his men, even with this half-assed crew you assembled."

I was pushing my luck, but I couldn't find it in myself to care. I wanted all the information I could get to help myself—and Lev. Unfortunately, I was rewarded as expected, and Dear Old Dad came up to me fast, laying a slap across my face.

"You think I'm stupid?" He came across the other cheek, but I was still expecting this; it's always how he acted when I riled him up. "I'm not going to have Lev's whole crew here. He's coming alone. Alone and unarmed because apparently, you matter to this asshole."

My mouth dropped, and it had nothing to do with the pain roaring through my face. Lev couldn't do that. There were too many in this fucking warehouse. He wouldn't survive that.

"I'll hand it to you, kiddo. You work fast. You got that man all wrapped around your pussy like he actually gives one hell of a shit about you. If you were on my side, I could use those skills."

My stomach clenched. Every time I thought my father couldn't get worse, he proved me wrong. But that really wasn't important right now. This was so much worse than I imagined. I couldn't let Lev get blown away by these assholes. But what the fuck can you do?

"And you won't do that, will ya? You won't step up and actually be of use to your father like you should."

God, was he still going on about using my "feminine allure" to swindle people out of their lives? Pavel Kozlovsky, you are the absolute worst.

"No. I can't say I'm a fan of that idea."

I spit on the floor, the taste of copper too strong in my mouth to sit with any longer. I could feel the split in the inside of my lip, and when the saliva and blood hit the floor, Pavel just laughed to himself.

"Well, doesn't really matter, does it?" He walked forward again, bending at the waist to stare me in the eye. "Your boyfriend is already on his way, and it doesn't matter if he sneaks in a weapon or men. I've got this place crawling with friends, and we're all packing and padded. Ending Lev Vadim is going to be a cakewalk."

I wanted to rebut or even just come up with something that could upset him, but I was too worried to think. It was so damn bad. And if I had to sit here, zip-tied to this damn chair, while Lev was killed in front of me…

I wasn't going to make it.

At once, that thought truly hit me. I couldn't stand the idea of losing him. Even now, my chest was pinching so much I could scarcely breathe, and that urge to cry was stronger.

"Well, have fun tied up. I better take my position with the others."

My father started walking back into the shadows where he came from, and inch by inch, I gradually lost sight of him.

Before all this, I might have felt some kind of way about Pavel being killed. A mixture of guilt and pain and relief, most likely, but now. Now, the thought of killing him myself burned bright in my veins, and I'd never been a violent person.

What had changed so much about me in such a short time?

But I knew what it was. It was Lev.

I found myself in a situation that I never thought was possible, and it felt like I had finally met my match. It may have been a mixture of madness and chance, or even a hint of Stockholm syndrome. But amidst all the uncertainty, there was one undeniable truth underlying my emotions, and I had to face it now—because this could be my only opportunity.

I loved Lev—with everything I had.

And no matter what it cost me, I wouldn't watch the man I loved die.