Chapter 30

Samara~

I was tied to a chair, possibly about to die soon, and all I could do was mentally complain about how he hadn't cared about my injured ankle when he'd tightened the ropes around my legs. Even over the bandage, it had hurt like a sonofabitch, and this really was probably just me finally losing my mind.

Also, as my luck would have it, instead of being a bumbling idiot that talked too much like in the movies, he'd known what he was doing the entire time, and so there hadn't been a chance to escape without the possibility of the gun going off. He'd kept a safe distance between us as he'd led me out the backdoor to a rather nondescript compact sedan, then had instructed me to get into the trunk after placing a sack over my head to keep me from getting creative on the way to wherever we were now. At first, I'd been fine with a sack over my head, but then when he'd ended up tying my hands to the trunk's hinges, not so much.

At any rate, when we'd finally arrived to wherever the hell this was, he'd been careful about letting me out of the trunk, leaving the damn sack over my head as he had orally directed me where to go. He hadn't underestimated me the entire time, and that was going to be a problem if I had any hope of getting away from the nutjob.

When I finally heard footsteps echoing across the hardwood floors, I knew that we were at another abandonment. While the place looked to be an actual house, it was clear that no one had lived here for a while. I also had no idea where I was, which was very concerning. While the drive hadn't been long enough to suggest that we were no longer in Port Townsend, I had no idea if I was still in Kotov territory or somewhere else. In fact, I had no idea if Mr. Simons-Is-My-Alias was an O'Brien or Sartori, though his fair looks would make me automatically think O'Brien.

"Sorry about that," Jack Simons lied. "I had to make a phone call."

Even though I knew that it wasn't going to help my current situation, I still asked, "Why am I here? Why are you doing this to me?"

He cocked his head a bit. "Does it matter?"

"No," I answered honestly. "However, seeing as how I've never done anything to anyone, the least that you could do is explain to me why I'm here."

"You think I care about your peace of mind?" he mocked.

"Obviously, not," I shot back.

Then he took a seat on one of the rickety chairs that'd been left in the kitchen, and I wondered if it was going to be able to hold his weight, which told me that I must really be losing my goddamn mind. I mean, why on earth would I care if he fell on his ass?

"How about this?" he posed. "For everything that you can tell me about Avgust Kotov and Maksim Barychev, I'll consider letting you live."

He was lying.

"What makes you think that I know anything about Avgust Kotov or Maksim Barychev?" I huffed, trying to sell my story of ignorance.

His blue eyes twinkled with malice. "Because I know that you're Avgust Kotov's whore," he said, stunning me. "And everyone knows that a man's whore always knows more than his wife does."

"You're confusing me with someone else," I told him, though my mouth was a bit dry.

"Am I?" he chuckled. "Perhaps I should introduce myself, so that you know how much I am not fucking around." He straightened in his chair as he finally gave me his real name. "I am Louie Manziel, and I've been tracking the Kotovs for a while now. So, though coincidental, I was there the other night when you were escorted into a black SUV by the Kotovs. Then, being the observant fellow that I am, as I waited to see when they were going to bring you back, I saw that Kotov had sent a guard to your place, and he was the same guard that started following a sweet brunette around."

Fuck.

"Now, while the plan was to keep digging, like the gift that just keeps on giving, you popped back up, and I thought to myself, what better way to get information on Kotov and Barychev than from an actual source," he went on.

I shook my head, my stupidity really an amazing talent. "You were following me this morning, weren't you?"

He grinned, and I felt violent with how na?ve I'd been. "You really should be more aware of your surroundings, darling."

Trying to keep myself from getting killed, I asked, "What could you possibly expect me to know? I mean, if you really believe that I'm Kotov's whore, why would you think that any talking was done during the couple of days that I was with him?"

"Pillow talk," he replied. "It's a real thing."

That got a laugh out of me.

A genuine laugh.

"Are you high?" I finally asked after I stopped laughing. "Do you honestly believe that Avgust Kotov would have ever become the head of the Russian Bratva if he engaged in pillow talk?" I shook my head in disbelief. "If you've been tracking him like you said you've been, then you'd know that Avgust Kotov would never pillow talk with whores. In this instance, you've got your cliché backwards. Avgust Kotov's wife would know more about what he's up to than some random whore."

"Well, well, well," he sing-songed. "You seem to know Avgust Kotov a lot better than you were letting on if you know that much."

I straightened my back, doing my best to appear condescending. "It's not rocket science," I spat. "Men don't become as powerful as Avgust Kotov by having loose lips."

"Would it surprise you to know that I don't even care about Avgust Kotov that much?" he remarked, making me wonder what game he was playing.

"What?"

"It's actually Maksim Barychev that I'm interested in, but you can't get to Maksim without going through Avgust first, so…" He shrugged. "The more that I know about both of them, the better."

"Well, I hate to break it to you, but you kidnapped the wrong woman," I told him. "The few hours that I spent with Avgust weren't spent talking."

His brows rose. "So, you are his whore."

I actually rolled my eyes at that.

"No," I corrected. "To Avgust, I'm a whore. One of many, in fact."

"Be that as it may, you'll still serve a purpose," he replied confidently, making dread dance down my spine.

"Which is?" I asked, sounding way more rational than I was feeling.

"Even if you mean nothing to Kotov, he'll still know that we're close enough to know more than he would like," he answered, and my attention caught on one word.

"We?"

Ignoring me, he said, "I wish I could tell you that it's not going to hurt, but it is. All of it will."

My mouth dried up again, and though I could feel panic trying to set in, I knew that I couldn't allow that to happen. I needed to keep my wits about me, no matter what. If I had any hope of saving myself, I needed to remain calm.

"So, you're going to torture me?"

His blue eyes took on a sadistic glint. "I like to think of it as…playing with you."

He was going to rape me.

"I still don't understand why," I said, though I knew that he didn't care.

"You're just going to be the pigeon that delivers the message," he replied cryptically.

"What the fuck does that mean?" I bit out. "Quit with the verbal acrobatics."

"I plan on writing the most beautiful message to Kotov and Barychev on your body, and when I dump what's left of you on their doorstep, it'll be a nice reminder that they're not as untouchable as they'd like to think."

Hope was close to leaving my soul as I said, "You can't win. I mean…you can't possibly believe that you can win against the Russian Bratva. That's…you're on a suicide mission, Mr. Manziel."

"Maybe," he conceded. "However, I also have my honor, Ms. Andreev. I also have people that I owe, and if I die repaying that debt, then I'm fine with that."

"You're making a mistake."

"No, I'm not," he replied with determination in his voice. "Nevertheless, trust me when I tell you that you're getting the sweet end of the deal. I'm merely doing this out of duty, not revenge. If I had been, you'd be meeting a fate far worse than what I'm about to do to you."

"And that's supposed to make me feel better?" I scoffed.

Louie grinned at me. "God, I'm going to love breaking that attitude of yours."

"You can try," I taunted, needing him to make just one mistake.