Page 3 of Hostage of the Bratva

Maybe if we get out, I could make a run for it. After all, I was in flats, and running wouldn’t be an issue. No, I told myself, he would just shoot me in the back. I let out a small scream and shook slightly as he touched my shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he said in a calm, deep voice as he sat back again, studying me.

I lowered my gaze and noticed he had placed his gun back in the holster. His suit complimented his build, as I could seeit fit him like a glove. Raising my head slowly, I couldn’t resist taking in his features.

His shirt was tucked solidly into his pants. I felt sure there wasn’t an inch of fat to be found on his body as I noticed his flat stomach and firm chest. His suit jacket stretched tight over his arms, which seemed to bulge out, trying to escape their confines. There was some blood on one sleeve.

Following his prominent jawline, I observed his hair; even though it was cut military style, it looked like soft chocolate. I observed myself staring, and then he moved, and our eyes met. My stomach made a knot as my breath left me, and my lungs felt like they were filled with burning coal.

His one eye was a light sky blue, and the other appeared like a shiny gold ball. This was a scary combination but also intriguing. The rest of his face was clean-shaven, and his dark-tanned skin appeared smooth and soft.

“What do you want?” I inquired lightly, turning my gaze back to the alley.

“I just want to make sure we are safe, then I’ll take you wherever you want, okay?” His voice was soothing, like a warm friend’s embrace, and I felt myself being pulled.

I didn’t answer but gave him a nod as I glanced back at him again. After what felt like a year's silence, he got out of the car. I heard the lock as he closed it and knew I couldn’t even try running. I was stuck in his car and could only hope he was a man of his word.

He stood outside, making a call. I could not hear him, but I could see he wasn’t pleased. He turned his back toward me as he waved his hand in the air while talking. He placed the phone back in his jacket and slammed his fists onto the car’s hood.

I shifted in my seat out of fear but kept my scream in this time. He walked around to my side and opened the door, holding out his hand to me. Warily, I took it and got out. He held me bymy upper arm in a tight grip as we walked out of the alley and across the road to a warehouse.

“Please,” I begged. “Please let me go, I won’t say anything to anyone, I promise.”

He unlocked a steel door and forced me inside without a word. The building was basically empty. Towards the back, there seemed to be an office or a small room. There were a couple of large barrels, some boxes, a table, and a chair in the other corner. But other than that, the place was bare.

He pulled me toward the room at the back. Glancing around at the closed door, I wished I had tried running. I was sure being dead would have been a better option. Even though I had no idea what his plans with me were, I would rather have taken the bullet.

He shot my brother, so why not me too, my mind kept telling me. No, he said he would let me go. I had to hold on to hope, I convinced myself. My feet filled with lead as he dragged me across the floor. My lungs felt like they were about to give up on me as I unexpectedly gasped for air.

I didn’t want to die, not here, not this way. “Please, Mr., please, let me go.” I tried again as we neared the small room.

He pulled me in and grabbed my other arm, holding me up facing him. “I told you; I will let you go once I know it is safe.” His voice was no longer smooth and warm. It was scary and made me cold as a shiver ran down my spine.

Letting go of one arm and turning me back into the room, I noticed a chair in one corner. There was an old desk, and also a couch. He shoved me forward onto the couch. I caught the side and turned, taking a seat. As I sat back, rubbing my arms where he had held me, I wondered if I would get bruises from the tight grip. The couch wasn’t the most comfortable and smelled, but it was at least soft.

He took off his jacket and threw it over the chair before rolling up his sleeves. Then he started walking up and down the small room with his hands on his hips as if trying to decide on what to do. His broad chest could now clearly be seen as his shirt stretched across it. After a while, he sat down in the chair. He unbuttoned his shirt and examined his arm before turning his attention back to me.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said in his calm, deep voice, sending a shiver down my spine. His voice was filled with emotion, and I couldn’t place his mood, but he sounded sincere.

I had to do something to convince him I could be trusted. As a modern woman, I knew I had charms that could soften most men, but I wondered if it would work on him. There was only one way to find out, and I had to try.

“It’s fine,” I answered, smiling softly at him. “May I ask who we are hiding from?” I hoped my voice sounded calm enough to make him feel at ease.

“It’s complicated,” he replied as he studied me.

Taking that as a good sign, I pressed on. “I’m sorry if I made your day worse.”

A gentle smile formed on his lips. “No, it’s not you. Sorry I dragged you into this.” He looked down at his hands, rubbing them together. I noticed his shoulders relaxing slightly.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” I asked, hoping our conversation would make him see that I was no threat.

He rose and walked over to the couch. “No, just be a little more patient with me, and you will be on your way soon,” he said as he sat down next to me.

Being so close, I could smell his sweet aroma. My mind filled with the sweet smell of the ocean on a bright early morning. Closing my eyes for a second, I absorbed this delightful fragrance.

My stomach turned, and I couldn’t help but smile up at him. His eyes were filled with a tenderness I could not explain. I found myself wanting to reach out and touch him. Instead, I folded my arms across my chest.

“You need to see a doctor,” I said, looking at his shoulder.

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