Chapter 36

Kimberly

I t takes me a minute to realize where I am and what’s happening when I groggily come to, the sedative finally wearing off. I realize with panic that I’m tied to a chair, in a dark room that smells damp and disused. Then, it all comes flooding back to me in a horrifying rush. The kidnapping. Marta and I were drugged and put into the trunk of a car by masked men.

“Marta?” I call out into the gloom, hoping she’s there.

I strain my eyes to hear her but there’s nothing, just the sound of a dripping faucet somewhere and the squeaking of rats—something I won’t allow myself to dwell on lest my fear renders me completely useless. I hope that means Marta has been taken elsewhere, and that she’s still okay. I can’t let myself consider the alternative, that the reason she’s not responding is because she’s already dead. I strain against my restraints, and they painfully cut into my flesh but won’t budge.

How long have I been here? Where am I? Does Yaroslav know we’ve been taken? If he does, surely he must be looking for me.

I try to quell the scream of panic that threatens to bubble up in my throat. I need to stay calm and think rationally. I have to try to get myself out of this situation.

If I’m still alive that has to be a good sign, surely that must mean that whoever took me wants me for something. That I’m better off alive than dead to them, at least for now. Slowly, my eyes start to adjust to the darkness and my head stops spinning so badly. I can’t help but fret about the unborn child in my stomach and the effect the drug and stress might have on them. It’s the one thing that keeps me calm. I have to try to control my anxiety levels for the baby’s sake.

My eyes roam around the room, searching for clues as to my whereabouts or tools I can use to escape, but there’s nothing. They’ve left me alone and afraid in this godforsaken empty hellhole.

What if no one comes? What if I’m left here to slowly waste away and starve to death? I’ve heard that it’s the lack of water that kills you first. How long does it take to die without water? That might be a worse fate than whoever kidnapped me coming and finishing me off.

Neither prospect is comforting. I don’t want to die here.

As I sit, my mind races through all of the possible scenarios of how this situation could play out, each one more terrifying than the last. I try to focus on my breathing and think about everything I want to do if I get out here alive instead.

I want to tell Yaroslav how I feel about him. I want to raise our baby together and be the best mom I can be. I want to visit Gran and tell her how much I love her and that she’s going to be a great-grandma. I want to go back to Charleston and visit my parents’ graves. I want to apologize to Amelia for not being a better friend. I even want to try to find it in my heart to forgive Noah, though I don’t think I will ever allow him back into my life. I want to finally pursue my dream career. Maybe I even want to marry Yaroslav someday and have a family. There are so many things I wish I could do. I need more time. This can’t be how my life ends, alone and cold, tied to a chair. When I’m gone, will anyone even know or will my body be thrown away like trash, never to be found?

I have no idea how much time has passed, but all of a sudden, I hear a noise. A loud banging in the distance. As the noise gets closer, I realize it’s the sound of gunfire.

It’s like music to my ears, the sound of imminent rescue. There’s no way my kidnappers would be firing randomly unless under attack. It has to be Yaroslav. He’s found us. He’s here!

My heart leaps at the prospect of rescue. There’s no doubt in my mind that Yaroslav will be the one to win this fight. These people have no idea who they’re messing with.

I knew he’d come for me.

Yet an insidious, niggling doubt tries to worm its way into my brain. What if the only reason they’ve come is to save Marta? She’s family after all. I could be left behind.

Before despair can kick in, I hear fighting, so close it must be outside the room I am in. Then, the door opens, and I’m momentarily blinded by the bright light that floods the room. Silhouetted in the doorway I can make out the impressive figure of a man, a shape I know well.

“Yaroslav!” I cry out giddy with emotion, though my voice breaks and sounds weak and horse from shouting.

He rushes toward me, “Kim, it’s okay, I’m here now!” he says, his voice thick with relief.

As he approaches, I can make out his handsome, concerned face and I can’t hold back the tears any longer. He kisses them away, cupping my face gently in my hands and surveying me for injuries as another man I hadn’t noticed before begins cutting me free.

“It’s okay, you’re safe. Did they hurt you?” he asks.

I shake my head, “No, at least I don’t think so. Where’s Marta? Did you find her?” I query, desperate to know if she’s alright.

With my limbs now freed, Yaroslav picks me up with ease, kissing my head and breathing in deeply.

“We’ve located her elsewhere in the building, my men are on the way to her now. But first, we have to get you out of here. Can you walk?” he asks.

As safe as I feel in his arms and as weak as I am, I want to say no, but I know carrying me puts him at risk if someone attacks us. “Yes, I can walk,” I reply, more confidently than I feel.

He reluctantly puts me down and my legs shake, threatening to buckle underneath me but I force myself to stand. I take a couple of steps before they give out, but Yaroslav is there to catch me. He scoops me up as if I weigh nothing and we stride out of the door. In the corridor, more men are waiting for us, as we walk, I can hear the sounds of fighting up ahead. A man comes running down the corridor toward us, his footsteps pounding on the concrete floor.

“Pakhan, we need backup, and Artem and his team aren’t here yet. There was a group of men waiting for us on the way to where Marta’s being held. We can’t get to her,” he says breathlessly.

“Alright, Kim you’re going to go with my man here and wait for us someplace safe, the rest of us are going to go get Marta,” Yaroslav says, placing me down and looking into my eyes.

“No, you can’t leave me!” I reply, terrified of losing him.

“I have to get Marta,” he reasons. “I’ll be right back for you, I promise.”

I know he’s right but still, I have to force myself to be rational, to not cling to him like a small child and refuse to let him out of my sight.

I take a deep breath, “Okay. But you’d better come back and find me. And don’t get yourself hurt,” I warn tearfully.

“I promise,” he says before kissing me.

There’s no time for long goodbyes. Too soon, he breaks away and runs off. The man tasked with rescuing me nervously asks, “Do you need me to carry you?”

“No, I’ll be fine,” I reply gesturing for him to lead the way. I feel dizzy and I can barely see through my tears, shock, and disorientation. All around me, there’s a cacophony of noise and fighting. I can hear the sounds of gunfire followed by men crying out in agony and the scent of blood and gunpowder fills the air. I stick close to the man in front of me, praying we will remain undetected and make it to safety.

Before long, we’re outside of the building, the cool night air like a welcome caress on my skin.

“See those vehicles up ahead?” the man asks me.

“Yes,” I reply with a nod.

“I want you to run, as fast as you can toward them, get inside one and duck down. Lock the doors and wait until we come for you. Artem and backup should arrive soon. Can you do that?” he asks me.

“What about you?” I ask, scared to go alone.

“I’ll be right behind you, I need to cover us in case someone shoots at us. Whatever happens, keep going, don’t look back,” he says. It’s both reassuring and not at the same time.

“Okay,” I reply, my voice wavering.

He nods and I start to run, I can hear him following behind as promised. But then I hear him come to a grinding stop and the sound of men running toward us.

“Where’s Volkov? Where’s the Pakhan?” they shout, and I stop in my tracks.

Ignoring my instructions, I turn to see some of Yaroslav’s men running toward us.

“He’s on his way to back you up from the enemy ambush,” the man replies, confused.

“Shit, it might be another trap! They all just turned tail and ran a moment ago. A few of us followed while the rest stayed behind to get to Marta. We lost sight of them, they could be doubling back,” one of them says before turning and heading back toward the building.

“What do you mean a trap?” I cry out, desperate for answers.

The sound of a thunderous explosion answers my question, and I watch in horror as the part of the building that Marta was in, where Yaroslav was heading, goes up in a ball of flames. The men all immediately race toward the scene, fearlessly hoping to help whoever is still inside. I try to do the same but strong arms grab me, holding me in place.

I’m vaguely aware that someone is screaming hysterically, the sound mournful and hopeless. It’s only after a moment that I realize that the person screaming is me.

The guard holds me firm in place and turns me around, so I am no longer looking upon the fire and the choking clouds of thick, black smoke. The fire that has most likely just killed Yaroslav and Marta, two people I care for deeply.

“Kimberly, we have to get out of here, I promised to keep you safe, there’s nothing you can do. Our men will find them. I swear—”

Whatever he was about to swear gets cut off by the sound of a gunshot. The bullet hits the side of his temple and the brave man whose name I never even got to know, the man who was risking his life for me, crumbles to the ground, dead. I stand there for a second, frozen in shock, and then I feel a sharp prick of a needle in my neck. Immediately, my legs crumple and I fall to the floor, paralyzed. I think that this must be it, my time has come, and that I’m going to die after all.

As I fade into the blackness, my last thought is of Yaroslav and the baby whom I tried so hard to protect and failed.

The last thing I hear is an unfamiliar voice followed by a chillingly out-of-place sound given the horrors surrounding us, laughter.