Page 104 of Maxim

The man makes a feeble attempt to disarm me but it’s useless, I’m much stronger than him. I grip his throat and lift him off the floor. He begins to turn purple as the flow of oxygen to his brain stutters to a halt.

When his eyes start to glaze over, I release him. He falls back to the ground, coughing and desperately sucking in air. “Yes,” he wheezes eventually, mindful of the gun I have trained on him.

“And the two women?”

“Two? There are more than—” There’s a shout from somewhere nearby, followed by a gunshot. Fuck, there must be another exit door we missed. The man on the floor tries to dive toward the door but I shoot him in the head.

The time for subtlety is over. My only priority now is rescuing my woman.

***

We underestimated how many men Uriov has in the farmhouse. The fucking place is like a rabbit warren. But the narrow corridors and dark rooms work in our favor. It makes it easier to take guys out one at a time.

From the yells, Kiril is working his way in from the back of the property. We’re no longer trying to be quiet - the aim is to find the women as quickly as possible before Uriov kills them just to spite me.

I head downstairs with Kolya and Sasha at my back. It’s damp and cold here, with dim lighting. We pass several locked doors, which are likely holding cells. Once I’ve located my malyshka, my men will check them out.

We turn a corner just as a man leaves a room with a catatonic girl in his arms. She’s covered in blood and for a minute, I freeze, terrified it’s Natalya, but this girl is slim and has tattoos.

“What the—” The guy drops the girl and attempts to pull put his weapon but Kolya throws a knife, hitting him in the eye. He slumps to the floor, dead. The girl moans from the floor and I quickly scoop her up, passing her back to Sasha. She needs medical help but it will have to wait.

Boris and Leon appear behind us and Sasha hands over the girl to Leon, who quickly takes her away. A moment later, I hear my malyshka scream,

“NO!” followed by an awful shriek that isn’t her.

Someone shouts just as we burst in and everything goes to fuck.

Chapter seventy-three

Nat

Beata is dead. She has to be. Watching what they did to her will stay with me forever. I tried to stop them. I struggled so hard against the asshole holding me that he punched me in the side of the face, causing me to pass out. By the time I came around again, one of Uriov’s guys was dragging Beata off the blood-soaked bed.

“They’re loving it so far,” the skinny guy sitting behind a computer monitor says with a huge grin. Uriov looks delighted.

“Excellent. Let everyone know the main event is about to begin.”

Jane was taken away ages ago. I hope Uriov forgets about her. She doesn’t need to see what happens next. I’m traumatized enough for the both of us.

My head hurts and I’m dizzy. If my stomach wasn’t empty, I’d be puking right now. As it is, acidic bile creeps up my gullet, burning my throat. Someone grabs me and throws me onto the bed.

The metallic scent of blood is overpowering. It’s all over me, sticking to my skin like acid. The white negligee is torn as well as covered in pink streaks. I’m guessing Uriov likes the macabre Gothic vampire aesthetic because he smiles a little more.

“Are you ready?” he calls and to my horror, Kolanski appears, naked.

He looks like a fucking mole rat. Pasty white skin and a small, stubby little penis. Part of me is grateful he’s so small; at least he won’t hurt me if he manages to get inside my body. Not that I’ll be making it easy for him.

Whenever Rick overpowered me, I froze. It was easier to dissociate from what he did to me than fight back. That was the old me. This version of me isn’t going to let another asshole take what I’m not willing to give. Not without a fight.

Kolasnki stalks toward me while cameras watch our every move. I try to crawl off the bed but he grasps my ankle. For a fat guy, he’s stronger than he appears.

“Get the fuck off me,” I snarl, but he’s not listening. His beady little eyes are glued to my breasts.

“I’m going to enjoy this so much,” he coos. “And once I’m done, the Beast gets his turn.”

My pathetic attempt at bravery flickers and dies. I know which monster he means. It’s the man who hurt Beata. The man who made her scream so loud and often that in the end, she broke.

I have to end this. I won’t survive what Beata went through. Escape plans run through my brain, each one more outlandish than the last, but the truth is, I have few options at my disposal.

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