Page 20 of Devil's Retribution

If I had, I would have already asked her out. But instead, here I was, forced to be the villain of the piece—in her eyes, anyway. I knew that would probably ruin any chance in hell that I had to get her into my bed, if it hadn’t been ruined already.

Too bad. Because I couldn’t get that first sight of her out of my mind. The shine of her hair, her bright, clever eyes, her stylish dress sense, the careful way she chose her words.

I hated that she would associate the very sight of me with fear and anger from now on. The kid, too. There was no starting over when your introductory move was to kidnap someone out of their house and keep them as hostages. There was no way I could think of to make up for or distract from that.

My day ended at six sharp. I bought a variety of Chinese takeout, hoping they would like it. Knowing Tolya, he had cooked them lunch. I didn’t have the time, so chicken lo mein, spring rolls and egg drop soup would have to do.

I didn’t know why, but my stomach tightened as I parked in the lot and headed into the decommissioned studio. I glanced around as I entered, but nobody seemed to be around to notice me, aside from the cars whipping by on the highway.

The tension only grew as I went through the double doors and walked down the soundproofed hallway to our holding cell. I had redone it for our current guests, the advantage of having it here was that we could reset the room, decor, furniture, and all, according to how we wanted our captives to feel.

Last time, it had been a rotten new member who had been skimming off the top of his take and needed to be persuaded to confess. He had spent two nights in a concrete cube with no furniture and the panel lights turned off. That had cracked him by itself, no torture needed. He had confessed eagerly just to get out of there.

Now, the room was an imitation hotel room, nice enough so that those inside might get bored, but they wouldn’t find it a torment.

Hopefully, anyway.

I knocked on the door before unlocking it, just giving them a polite warning. When I opened the door, Emma was sitting with Nick on the bed, arms around him. They both watched me warily as I walked in.

“The terms have been delivered to your uncle,” I said softly as I set the food aside. “Hopefully it will not take very long for him to decide to cooperate.”

Silence for a few beats, and then the Doctor said, “He’ll cooperate. We’re the only family he has since losing my mom and dad.”

“I certainly hope that you are right. I assure you that this entire situation was a last resort.” Hopefully she would never learn that I had killed four men and wounded another in order to kidnap her and the boy. Especially since her uncle had sent them there without her even knowing it.

“I don’t know what you expect me to say to you,” she said breathlessly, exasperation in her tone. “Are you expecting me to forgive you for this? Are you trying to gaslight me? Hoping I’ll get Stockholm syndrome or something?”

I hesitated, but then set my jaw and pushed on. It would not do to seem weak in front of her or the boy. “None of the above. In your shoes, I would be pissed at me right now, and worried about my survival. But you’re not the person we want to get to. You’re just the only one we could grab who has such strong ties to him.”

“And what exactly did he do to you, that has you coming after him like this?” she demanded. Nick peeked at me, then looked away. Something in his face and eyes was unnervingly familiar.

I stared at her, wondering how much to share. None of it was her business, after all. But what was her business was just how despicable her precious uncle really was. She needed to know. And as strange as it was to admit it to myself, I needed her to know as well.

“Your uncle had my younger brother killed,” I said quietly.

Chapter 9

Emma

No.

That single word echoed in my head as I stared at our captor. Nick shuddered and moved closer to me as he stared as well.

Not my uncle. There was no way.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I insisted, cheeks flushing with anger. “My uncle took me and my sister in when nobody else would. He raised us. He made sure we had the best of everything. There’s no way I’m going to believe that he ever had anyone killed. You have to be mistaken.”

He nodded resignedly. His gaze swept over me, and then he seemed to make a decision. “I can understand why you would be reluctant to take my word on it,” he said calmly. “But I have copies of his correspondence with a local hitman that says he did.”

“You expect me to take your word for that?” I snapped, my anger slipping my control for a moment. “I’m not inclined to believe men that take me, and a five-year-old, hostage.

“No, of course not.” he hesitated for just a split second before plowing on. “I expect you to look into it yourself, including reading those correspondences.”

Our gazes locked, I could see a strange mix of exhaustion, determination, and hope in his eyes that I didn’t understand. Why was it so important to him that I believe him?

“This has to be mistaken identity,” I mumbled, dropping my face into my hands. “There’s just no way.”

Nick was patting my arm worriedly as he leaned on me. As Viktor drew closer, calm and just as damnably handsome as ever, I wanted to slap him, to keep him at arm’s length. But I knew that would have been stupid.

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