Chapter 13

thirteen

. . .

River

" G et inside," Pytor snarled as he shoved me through yet another door and into yet another room.

This time it wasn't a dank cell. But the large four-poster bed with handcuffs attached to a bar on the headboard had me wishing for my disgusting nest. At least there, I knew I'd be left alone.

Nothing good was going to happen to me in this room.

In this bed.

I've already been sold, and Alexei had proven assault wasn't off the table, so was rape really much of a stretch?

Seeing Cross in the crowd had filled me with renewed spirit. He was here, which meant Walker and Bishop wouldn't be far off. They'd come for me. I just had to stay alive long enough for them to get here.

"You know, the more I get to know you, Mikhail, the more I realize what a little bitch you are."

Pytor made a low growling sound. In another life, it would've scared the snot out of me. Hell, even an hour ago, it would've worked. Not anymore. That was before I had hope again.

"Stop your incessant yapping. Like a fucking bitch dog." He dragged me by my arms toward the bed.

"I don't know. It seems to me like you're the bitch in this situation."

That one brought him up short. "How do you figure?"

"Well, I mean, you were the one in charge of feeding me, grooming me, cleaning my cage, picking up my shit. I feel like I got the better end of the deal. I only had to deal with seeing your ugly face a couple of times a week. So tell me, Kyrill, who's the real bitch here? Me, or you?"

"Shut the fuck up."

"Never gonna happen. You're stuck with me. Bitch." I purposely drew it out, making the word as long as I possibly could.

I knew it was working when his cheeks turned a mottled crimson. He drew his arm back like he was going to backhand me, and damn it all, I flinched.

Missing nothing, he checked the movement and chuckled menacingly, staring me down. "Pretty soon you'll be Volkov's problem. Since I'm feeling generous, I'll let you choose. On your back, or on your belly?"

"Don't you think he'll kill you for taking what he bought?"

God, I hoped he was bluffing.

He shoved me onto the bed and began working at his belt. Shit, he wasn't bluffing. "It'll be worth the pain if I get to make you cry as I fill you with my cum."

I made a show of gagging, using the moment to clock the knife tucked in a sheath attached to his leather belt. I wasn't sure whether it was the same one he'd used on my dress earlier, but honestly, it didn't matter. A knife was a knife. If I could get my hands on it, I'd make it fucking count.

I'd use a damn nail file to stab him in the eye right now if it was all I had.

Weapons were what you made of them, after all. Wasn't that a saying? It should be. I had a feeling anything could be deadly with the right inspiration.

"If you can even get it up. I doubt I'd even feel a thing. Your pencil dick isn't enough for me."

He fondled his knife. "Who said anything about using my dick?"

My bravado faltered for several heartbeats until I remembered he couldn't do anything that would leave visible marks. Not with Volkov on his way. He wouldn't risk his boss's wrath. This was all posturing.

I hoped.

Just to be safe, though, I definitely needed to get my hands on that weapon.

"Maybe I will use my cock first. Since you mentioned it."

Bile burned in the back of my throat, but I forced myself to roll my eyes. "So fucking predictable, Igor. Way to be a walking stereotype."

Inside, I was screaming. But as the words left my lips, I felt like a badass bitch. Fake it till you make it, right?

He shoved his pants down enough to expose his pathetic, floppy cock, only at half-mast even now.

I let out a snort. "Is that all there is? God, I probably have a better chance of busting a hymen with my fingers than you do with that inchworm."

"According to your past, your hymen was long gone. How many of them did you take at once? All three? Dirty fucking whore."

"Aw, what's wrong? Are you jealous?"

He gripped me around the throat and shoved me hard onto my back, cutting off my air supply as he forced his hips between my legs. Instead of panicked clawing at his hand, I reached down, fumbling until I grabbed the switchblade and freed it from the sheath. He must've realized what I was doing because he tensed and made to move, but I was too fast. I opened the knife and plunged it deep into his side. The blade slid cleanly between his ribs, making him gasp and pull back. I yanked the knife free and didn't waste a fucking second, even as blood slid down his torso and began dripping onto me. I brought the knife down as hard and fast as I could, hitting him at the juncture of his thigh and pelvis. A kill shot Bear had taught me.

"When in doubt, always aim for an artery, cub. You don't have to be super precise or deal with cutting around bone, and just a nick will get the job done."

Pytor's eyes went wide as blood sprayed over me, pulse after pulse matching the beat of his heart.

He opened his mouth, bright red bubbles dribbling down his chin.

"What was that? I didn't quite make it out," I taunted, clinging to this violent savagery I'd somehow unleashed. I was sure shock would claim me soon, but before it did, I intended to ride this wave as long as possible.

When all he managed was a slow blink, I gave him my best go fuck yourself smile and used my leg to kick him off the bed. He fell with a heavy thud, and I winced, eyes darting to the door, sure he had backup waiting to rush in.

I got onto my knees in the center of the bed, knife poised and ready to strike. They'd kill me, but I'd go down fighting like hell.

After all, my Bear raised me right.

It could have been seconds or hours later; I had absolutely zero concept of time as I waited. Finally a scratch came at the door, followed by the turn of the knob.

My heart raced.

My palms sweat.

But through it all, I forced myself to hold steady, my gaze never leaving the door.

Whoever this was better make themselves right with their God, because I was about to take them to meet him.

I wasn't sure who was more shocked when it finally opened.

Me.

Or Bishop.

Bishop

Wind blew in from the open window I'd just climbed through. I had ten minutes tops to find her and get us both out. Thank God Asher came through with the blueprints of this place. Otherwise I'd never get to her in time.

Volkov and his crew were occupied with closing out the auction, which meant for a short time, she'd be alone. Or at least not heavily guarded. One Russian asshole I could deal with. An army? Not without backup.

Slow and even breaths kept me focused as I crept down the hall, my eyes trained on the nearest door. I had no idea which room she'd be in, but I'd try every single one until I found her. Heart pounding, I reached for the first knob with my free hand, my gun pointed at chest level. I swung it open slowly, the lack of lights telling me this wasn't the one. Still, years of training dictated I clear the room before moving on.

I made a point to shut the door behind me as I moved on, not wanting to leave accidental breadcrumbs and tip Volkov or his boys off to the fact that I'd been here. I was just getting ready to see what was behind door number two when muffled voices hit my ears. Everything in me went cold and tight, and I immediately ditched the door I was at and took off at a careful run, following the voices until the unmistakable sounds of a scuffle came from just beyond the final bedroom in this corridor.

Thank fuck I'd heard them, or I'd have spent all my time checking empty rooms.

You don't know this is her. One of the other girls could have been brought up here.

I shook off the thought. If it wasn't her, then I'd save this one and send the prick who purchased her straight to hell.

No one deserved this fate.

Even amped up as I was, my movements were controlled, my thoughts clear. It had been far easier than I'd imagined to slip back into this role. My body knew exactly what it needed to do to get the job done.

I tightened my grip on the butt of my gun with one hand while slowly twisting the knob of the door with my other.

I'd only just cracked it open when the metallic tang of blood hit my nose.

No. Fuck, not again. Not her too.

I shoved the door open, took one look at the crimson chaos of the room, and fucking snapped.

I was too fucking late.

Again.

But then I blinked and realized it wasn't too late.

My siren was there, on her knees, soaked in blood, with a knife held out in one shaking hand. She locked eyes with me and gasped before dropping the weapon and falling forward, collapsing on the bed, hurt but alive.

"Sterling?"

Her voice shook almost as badly as her body.

I ran toward her, desperate to stanch the flow of blood. "Where are you hurt?"

"It's not mine." Her words didn't register as I started checking for injuries. "Sterling, it's not mine."

My eyes snapped back to hers. I repeated her words, my brain struggling to believe them. "It's not your blood."

She shook her head, reaching for me and catching herself at the last second, bloodied hands hovering inches from my face.

I grabbed her by the nape and pulled her against me, kissing her for all I was worth. Everything I'd ever wanted was right here in my arms, and I'd be damned if anyone would take her from me.

Pulling back, she jutted her chin to the side of the bed and whispered, "It's his. I k-killed him."

I risked a glance away from her for the barest second as I took in the body on the floor. His eyes were open but sightless, mouth slack with a crimson trail falling from the corner. His jeans were open, his blood-covered cock on display.

"Did he . . . fuck, did he . . ." I couldn't bring myself to say the word.

"No," she rasped, then repeated more forcefully. "No. I stopped him before he could."

I could have sunk to the floor, such was my relief. Thank fuck.

"That's my girl. Are you sure he didn't hurt you?"

"I'm okay, Sterling. I just want to go home."

All too aware of the seconds slipping by, I shrugged off my shirt and handed it to her. "Then let's go home."

"How are we going to get out of here? They'll see us. We can't just walk out the front door."

I tugged her toward the exit. "Did you forget? I'm a super spy. We're going out the window."

She let out a startled huff of laughter. "You might be a super spy, but I wasn't trained to scale walls with my bare hands."

"Guess you'll just have to trust me."

Her eyes held mine, and without an ounce of hesitation, she murmured, "I do."

She didn't know what those words meant to me. How her easy acceptance and willingness to place her life in my hands even after the hell she'd just been through was the equivalent of her giving me the whole fucking world.

I vowed then and there to spend the rest of my days proving to her that I was worth it. Worthy of the love and trust she gave me so effortlessly. I would never let her down again.