Chapter 6 - Elena

I thought it was a stroke of genius, stabbing that asshole with the heel of my shoe. He wasn't expecting that at all. He probably thought I was a useless princess who would just do as I'm told. He's wrong.

I don't care whose son he is. No one kidnaps me.

I sprint out of the cabin and start running.

I trip on the brambles, and my feet ache from standing on stones and thorns, but fear propels me forward. What is this place? I have no idea where I am and no sense of direction. I need to try to keep moving in the same direction.

It feels like I'm moving down, so I assume we're on a hill or mountain. Down means good. It means I'll reach a road eventually.

It's dark out here, and I can't see where I'm going except where the moonlight dapples through the tree line here and there.

I've never been camping, let alone hiking in the wilderness. I have no tracking or navigation skills whatsoever. I need to find a path, any sort of path, because that will lead to a road. From there, I can get help or find my way to the highway and flag down a car. Maybe I can use their phone to call my brothers and have them get me. Or perhaps the driver will take me back to the city.

I can't think straight right now. I know he's probably trying to follow me, so I need to move as fast as possible while trying not to make too much noise or draw too much attention to myself.

I stumble over a tree root and glance around. The moon has broken through the treetops here, and I can see a path leading down to the right from where I am.

Yes, see, I can conquer anything. I listen carefully and don't hear anything aside from what I assume are the usual forest sounds.

I hurry down the path, still tripping now and then, but then kick my toe on a rock. I want to cry out, but I bite my lip. No matter how much it hurts, I can't give away my position.

I limp down the path, trying to pick my way carefully until I can see through the darkness to the moonlit road below. I almost whoop for joy until I pause.

Something is moving up ahead on the road, blocking the path. It's small and scruffy-looking. Another tubby, scruffy-looking thing joins it. They move into the moonlight, and I can clearly see the two little bear cubs playing happily.

Now, I'm no idiot. I don't do the outdoors, but I've read books, watched National Geographic, and know what protective mama bears do when someone is near their babies.

I need to move quickly. Shit, I'm going to get mauled. I take a step toward the right to run down the road, but my foot stands on a branch, and it cracks.

That's when I hear it: the low growl. It's coming from somewhere close. I turn to run in the opposite direction, but suddenly, a hand covers my mouth, and I'm pushed up against the nearby tree.

The mama bear still growls, and I look up at my kidnapper. His whole body is pressed against mine, and his… definition… is honestly kind of sexy. He has a toned, muscular feel, and from what I can feel pressed lower down, he isn't lacking in the man department.

What is wrong with me? This fucker kidnapped me. If I didn't have to keep quiet because a bear was around, I'd completely rip him a new one. I could knee him in the groin and let the bear eat him while I get away, but if the bear focuses on me, I don't know if I'll be able to outrun it.

I breathe heavily against his hand, and he silences me with a look. I breathe a little easier, and the growling stops. Something shuffles off in the distance.

"If you make a noise, you'll bring it back," he murmurs the words. "So keep quiet and come with me."

Is he being… protective of me? Is he worried about me? Maybe he's just scared he'll lose his leverage to get the butchery back.

I shake my head, and he takes a handkerchief out and gags me again, even though I try to fight him off as silently as I can. He takes off his belt, and I know he's going to have his way with me. He surprises me by using it to tie my hands. Then he kneels and scoops me up over his shoulder.

My stomach hurts as his shoulder digs into it, and I bang my hands against his back.

I try to pull my gag out, but he pauses when there is a shuffling sound nearby, and I know I need to keep quiet. Instead, I try to observe the direction we're going. I try to find unique things in the dark that I can maybe identify in the light of day to get me back down from here. I don't even know what direction I went when I ran out of the cabin. I just took off.

After walking for a while, we reach the cabin, and he carries me in and sets me back down on the floor. He replaces the belt with handcuffs connected to a long chain. He takes the other handcuff and attaches it to his wrist. "There we go. No running away now, princess. I've also gotten rid of your shoes since you prefer to use them as weapons."

I can hear the anger in his voice as he forces me to my feet.

I shake my head, and he ungags me. Before I can say anything, he tugs me along to the kitchen island and sits me down to eat.

He eats with his free hand. "Food's cold now, but it will still fill your stomach. Almost like you could have filled that bears." He looks at me as he takes another forkful of food.

I pick at the beans and corn on my plate. "Is there anything normal to eat?" I ask.

"Define normal, and no, you eat what you get." He grunts slightly as he shifts, touching his free hand to his bleeding shoulder. "High heels, what's next?" He shakes his head.

I only have a fork to eat with, but I don't try to stab him with it. I'm a bit weary now of launching myself into the dark when I can't see. I need to wait for the daytime to see where I'm going and what the dangers are.

I eat a forkful of the food and am surprised to find it lightly seasoned. It doesn't taste awful, but it's not my favorite texture. It's awkward trying to eat with a handcuff around my wrist.

"This is ridiculous. If I promise not to run away, will you take this off?" I look at him and gesture to the handcuffs.

He shakes his head. "Unfortunately, I'm disinclined to believe you, princess."

"Stop calling me a fucking princess," I growl.

He looks at me curiously. "You don't like your little title?"

"Princess alludes to the fact I'm weak, a damsel in distress. I am neither of those things. I can take care of myself." I huff.

"Except in a forest," he points out. "That bear would have shredded you in no time, and you were about to run right toward it."

I lift my nose into the air. "I always find a way to survive. I will survive this as well."

He touches his shoulder briefly and then goes back to eating.

"You'll survive if I say you survive," he says finally.

"Who do you work for?" I ask. "Or are you some sort of psycho serial killer? You know so much about me, but I know nothing about you."

He looks at me thoughtfully. "There'll be plenty of time for questions after dinner. Hurry up and eat. I want to go sleep."

I take another forkful, chew, and swallow. Unfortunately, I'm not one to stop talking, even when the powers that be have said enough.

"How long do you plan to keep me prisoner? Until my father gives back the butchery?" I ask.

"Until you tell me why the butchers are so important," he comments. "Then I'll drop you at your father's house myself."

"I don't know why they're special," I groan. This is so frustrating. "I was trying to find out myself."

"Any theories?" he asks.

"None," I say seriously. "Now, will you take me home? I won't even make you replace my heels."

‘You ruined your own heels," he huffs as he finishes his food. "You stabbed me, remember?"

I look at his shoulder. It's going to get infected if he doesn't clean it. I feel a little pang of guilt for stabbing him. I have never stabbed anyone before. I know it's ‘what we do' in the family business, and I will be called upon to do it again if I prove my loyalty and worth, but this guy is just a butcher's kid trying to save his dad's shop.

"Let me look at your shoulder," I say quietly.

"Finish your food, don't worry about my shoulder." He shifts away from me.

I eat quietly, and when I'm done, he gets up, and I follow him as he rinses the dishes.

I touch his shoulder softly, and he grabs my wrist tightly. I wince and try to pull away. "I just want to see how bad it is. It's going to get infected if you don't clean it."

"Don't you think I know that?" He growls angrily. "You were stupid to stab me in the first place. I was doing what you asked. Now, you stay bound until I say so."

He tugs me along and walks into the bathroom.

"Oh no, I'm not going in there with you." I try to pull back, but he tugs me along.

"I'm going to take a leak; you can turn around if you don't want to look."

"Why would I want to look?" I snap.

"Maybe because you need to get laid to remove the stick from your ass, princess," he says.

I hear his pants zip and the sound of him taking a leak. I'm almost tempted to peek. It had felt so big when he pressed his body against me. Can someone really be that big in real life?

I've never had sex. I haven't even given anyone oral. Daddy's little angel, that's what I've always been, and if anyone came a few feet within me, my brothers would make sure they lost a few teeth.

I turn my head slowly, glancing out the corner of my eye.

"I thought you didn't want to look," he chuckles.

I look straight ahead again. "I'm not. I was stretching my neck."

"Yeah, right," he zips his pants up and flushes. He moves to wash his hands and looks at me as he dries them. "Tell me, is your little boyfriend good enough for you?"

I swallow, and he raises an eyebrow. "Single. I see. So Daddy won't let the princess play with the little paupers."

I raise my hand to slap him. "Stop taunting me," I say. "I'm just not a slut like people from your side of the tracks."

"People from my side of the tracks? We are both Russian. We are on the same side of the tracks, you idiot. No wonder your father doesn't let you handle family business. You don't know your own nationality."

"I know plenty about my culture and nationality, and I know enough to know you're just a butcher's boy. You don't want to hurt me. You don't want to be in this situation. You want to be back with your family, out of trouble. The longer you hold me here, the worse it gets for you." I realize I still don't know his name.

He chuckles again and pulls a first aid kit from under the bathroom sink. "Wrong again, princess."

I look at him, puzzled, but then he tugs me toward the living room. We sit beside each other on the sofa, and he unbuttons his shirt and pulls it off. There's a brief moment when he removes the cuff from his arm, but he takes his shirt off quickly and slips it back on. I'm now sitting here with him, his shirt off. His chiseled body is marked with scars. I look at his wound and wince.

"Let me clean it. It's easier if I do it."