Page 63 of Redeem

The plastic cuffs bit into my skin, pulled tight enough that my circulation had been cut off. My arms were behind my back, wrenched into an angle that put pressure on my shoulder. One hard bump, one wrong move, and it would come right out of the socket.

Intentional, I was sure.

They’d tied my feet too, one cuff around each ankle, those connected with a third that was pulled so tight I couldn’t separate my knees.

Also intentional.

But at least they had left me upright.

Still, my hands went numb, as did my feet, and I felt the searing twist and burn in my shoulder.

The pain didn’t touch me at all.

I was no stranger to numbness, had lived in it for years, existed in a place where physical pain, human emotion, none of it could reach me.

I wasn’t in that place now.

I felt, felt acutely, but the physical discomfort was nothing compared to my worry for Dana, my relief that they hadn’t found me at her home. Each mile that I put between them and her made me feel better, but that was only a fleeting comfort.

She had been so angry with me, as she had every right to be. But seeing that pain in her eye, knowing the reason for it didn’t make it any better.

And, seeing the other things there only compounded that hurt.

I could see the feeling she had for me, the one she hadn’t expressed but that I hadn’t needed her to. And I could see the burning betrayal in her eyes before she had walked away. I saw in those moments how much that hurt her.

Cursed myself yet again for having made that so. The way I’d managed to make this woman suffer as I did was mind-boggling, but I swore I would find a way to make it up to her if I lived to have the chance.

“Comfortable?”

The voice penetrated my thoughts, made me look up. I didn’t respond though. The question, such as it was, wasn’t worthy of one.

Instead, I turned my thoughts away from Dana, refocused some on my current situation.

These men weren’t Markov’s. I wondered if he had survived. I had no doubt if he had, he would come for me. I had left his employment under less than ideal circumstances, and had disobeyed a direct order. Markov wouldn’t have let that stand.

But the men who had taken me weren’t Ukrainian, which left few other options, none of them good.

I’d been honest with Dana when I told her of what I’d done, but few of those I’d hurt would have the means or the nerve to chase me this far for this long.

So there was only one option.

Clan Petran had found me.

And now they would demand vengeance.

Ciprian

We stayed in the car for hours, late into the night, and then moved to a plane. My arms and legs stayed cuffed the entire time. I knew that when, if, they were removed, the pain would be excruciating, but that was of no concern.

That they hadn’t shot me in the back of the head and left me in a shallow grave told me that there would be an accounting.

I steeled myself for that, tried to prepare myself for the coming onslaught.

Despite my physical discomfort, I managed to fall asleep, and was awakened by a sharp kick to the side.

I sighed, felt a renewed burn in my shoulder, and then remembered where I was.

“Walk,” the driver said.

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