Page 2 of The Stowaway

“How are you, Babushka?” I asked in a softer voice.

“We miss you. When are you coming home again, Ivan?”

“I will try soon. I need to clear some business up first,” I said.

We chatted and caught up for a few minutes before I hung up, and my music filled the car again. The rest of the journey was what I needed to unwind. It didn't hurt that I was driving my Porsche 911. I relaxed into my seat to enjoy the rest of my commute. It was late by the time I turned into my estate. It was like a fortress surrounded by mature trees for privacy. The gates opened, and I drove up the driveway and parked beside the house.

Gone were my clubbing and whoring days. All I needed was a pipe and an armchair beside a fire. I shook my head and reached for my coat in the back seat. When I lifted it up, I saw a woman underneath it. She quickly hid her head away from me. In the dull light of the car, I saw she had blonde hair, and she didn't look like she was wearing much.

“Who the fuck are you? Did Bardhok send you?” I growled at her.

The last thing I needed was for anyone to find my home. Especially not some Albanian gang whore.

“Fucking answer me,” I barked at her, feeling my anger rising as I wondered how the cunts got her into my car.

Her head snapped up, and I saw one bright green eye open. The other was swollen shut. She sat up, yanked the door open, and bolted out of the car. I saw the back of her black top was ripped, and she had bare feet. I shoved the door open and ran after her. There was no way off my estate as it was walled up, and she didn't look as if she could climb up a two-metre wall.

She reached the grass but tripped over. I reached out to grab her, and she began to howl and scream before wiggling around, trying to get out of my arms. I lifted her up.

“Hey, calm down. I’m not going to hurt you,” I said softly.

She began to pant as if she couldn't breathe, but as soon as I loosened my hold on her, she shot off again towards the trees. It didn't take me long to catch up with her again, and this time, I slapped a hand over her mouth and lifted her up to carry her home. I ignored her struggling body because she was terrified, and nothing I could say was going to get through to her.

The front door opened, and Misha came running out. He paused at the squirming girl before he began to growl at her. The girl stopped squirming, and her body froze before I felt her trembling.

“Vniz, Misha,” I ordered Misha to back down.

He growled a few more times, but before he quietened down, the girl went slack in my arms and drooped forward. I swung her into my arms and carried her into the house, ignoring Maksim and Lena. When I glanced down at the girl, I noticed her lip was burst and bleeding. Her dark blonde hair was smeared with blood.

Whoever she was, someone had fucked her up, and it had been brutal. She couldn't be more than her early twenties.

“Maksim, call the doctor and tell him it's urgent,” I said as I took her upstairs.

When I reached the top of the staircase, I paused for a second before taking her into my bedroom. The feel of her slight body and beaten face made me feel protective towards her. I needed to know how badly she was hurt. Misha nudged my leg and whined.

“Wait, Misha.”

I lay the girl on my bed and took her appearance in. She wore jeans and a fitted black T-shirt. The T-shirt was ripped at the seam on her shoulder. There were no shoes or socks. I lifted her foot up and saw the dirt and blood on them. The other wasn't much better. I moved back towards her head and lifted it up to see a nasty cut in her scalp. After placing her head back onto the bed, I checked her arms for needle marks, but she was clean, so she wasn't a junkie. I lifted her hand and inspected her bloody nails. Whoever she had been fighting with had gotten themselves clawed by this little kitten.

This was no girly fight. Her attacker was a man.

∞∞∞

The doctor was checking her vitals before he began to clean and patch her up. He had given her a sedative after she had woken up terrified.

“Do you want a full inspection in case she was raped?”

His words snapped me out of my thoughts. I glanced down at her sleeping face. She looked young and innocent. Half of her face was bloody and swollen between her lip and her eye, but the other half of her face was unmarred and pretty. Someone could have tried to rape her.

I sighed and nodded to him before turning to get her some clean clothes. I took out some shorts and a T-shirt out of my closet.

“It doesn't look good, Mr Maslow.”

My fingers gripped the clothing tightly, and I clenched my teeth when I saw the bruising on her ribs. The doctor was running his fingers along her ribs.

“Anything broken?” I asked, trying to keep my anger in check.

“No, thankfully, it's just bruising.”

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