Page 89 of Night Shift

Chapter twenty-five

The ride back to the pier was torturous. The frigid breeze bit at my skin while the water slapped against the hull tauntingly, mocking my failed attempt at escape. When the warehouse came into view, a hollow feeling settled in my stomach.

As soon as the boat bumped up against the dock, two of the thugs hooked their hands under my shoulders and dragged me into the warehouse. The door slammed behind us, making me jump.

The Wolf was there, waiting, his face twisted into an expression of fury as I was thrown at his feet. “Impressive, Samantha,” he spat out, the anger in his voice as frosty as the chill in the air. “You have spirit, but it’s as foolish as it is futile!”

I could barely lift my head to throw him a pathetic, defiant glare before falling back down, my body shaking from the cold and fear.

“You think you can run from the Volkovi Nochi? From me?” He paced like a caged animal, his voice rising with each step he took. “There is no escape! You belong to us now, to me. Your little swim has cost me time and resources. And pissed me off.”

His men watched on, a silent audience to the spectacle of his anger. In that instant, I realized any further attempts to flee would be pointless; his control was absolute, his reach far and wide. The cold, hard floor of the warehouse pressed against my cheek, and as I lay there, it became clear to me that I was utterly, entirely trapped—not just by the walls of the warehouse or the waters of the bay, but by the will of a man who considered me nothing more than a piece of property at his disposal.

His eyes burned with an intensity that seemed to ignite the very air between us. We stared at each other in silence for a few heartbeats. Then he gave a nod to his men, and they lifted me by the arms, shoving me into a chair in the center of the warehouse. I knew not to fight against them. My best hope now was simple self-preservation. I had to use my mind, not my body, to stay alive. These types of men demanded subservience, so I would give The Wolf exactly what he wanted.

He pulled at each finger of his glove until he freed it from his hand. Then with careful precision he repeated the same with the other hand, shoving the gloves into a pocket of his black overcoat. Shucking off his coat, he tossed it to one of his men, never breaking eye contact with me. No longer able to take the ferocity of his glare, I dropped my face, focusing on the red welts crisscrossing my wrists from the zip ties that had bound them for so long. The Wolf was upon me then, the tips of his black leather shoes stepping between my feet, knocking my legs apart. “Look at me!” he shouted.

“Yes, sir,” I said softly as I slowly raised my eyes to meet his, keeping my chin down and taking a passive posture.

He made three menacing tsks. With one quick movement, he grasped my chin and tilted it upward, positioning me to allow his palm to deliver a swift, stinging slap across my cheek.

“Today, you will learn your place and that your Pakhan will not tolerate insolence from anyone.” He squeezed my cheeks between his thumb and fingers. “You will show me respect at all times. You will address me as sir unless we are in public, and then you will use Mr. Volkovi.” Running his thumb across my lips, he leaned closer. “And if you were ever to win my favor, then perhaps one day you could call me Viktor.” He chuckled ominously, releasing my chin.

Taking a step away, he began to pace back and forth, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. I dropped my eyes back to my lap, not daring to meet his gaze.

“Try as you might, you will not escape,” Viktor hissed. “Look at me, goddammit!” His anger was a force that filled the room, suffocating and dark. I snapped my head up. Smack! The back of his hand struck the other cheek. “You must understand, Samantha,” he continued in a more controlled tone, “you are not here by mere chance. It was your father who placed you in this…predicament.” Smack! Another hit, this time splitting my lip in a new place. Blood trickled down my chin, but I didn’t move.

“Mac made his choices,” Viktor continued, pacing slowly once more. “He made promises he couldn’t keep, racked up debts he could not repay. And when we came to collect, he offered up the only thing he had left of any value to us—his own flesh and blood.”

My mind reeled. My father had traded my life to save his own. It was a truth that should have been too horrifying for me to accept, a betrayal too deep to fathom. But I knew my father. His addictions had claimed his soul long ago.

“You see,” he said, leaning down so his face was level with mine, “in this world, everything has a price. Your father understood that. And now, here you are, a payment for his sins. You bring to the Volkovi Nochi certain useful skills. I’m sure you understand your value.” His breath was a mix of mint and something foul. It was a scent I would never forget.

He loomed over me. “You and I are going on a little journey, Samantha,” he said in a smooth, almost casual voice. “Back to Russia, on that container ship out there.” He gestured toward the pier. “We will leave shortly. You be a khoroshaya devochka…a good girl, and no more harm will come your way.”

The finality in his tone, the promise that this was not up for negotiation, made my heart sink, but I had to play his game and try to stall our departure as long as possible. I raised my face to look him in the eye and licked the blood off my lip. “Yes, sir,” I said, giving him a soft smile.

His pupils shot wide open. That lick had stirred something within him.

Once again, he grabbed my jaw in his hand and yanked me out of the chair, pulling me to him. With only a breath of distance between us, his other hand found the back of my head. Twisting his fingers in my hair, he crushed his mouth against mine and ran his tongue along my split lips, demanding entrance.

Just play along, Samantha, and give the monster what he wants! I screamed in my mind. Forcing myself to relax, I leaned into the kiss. All I had to do was pretend it was Benji from back in college. Lord knew I’d faked my enthusiasm with him enough times.

As our tongues jousted, I gently cupped Viktor’s cheek and moaned softly. The hand not holding me captive by my hair snaked around my waist, forcing my belly against a burgeoning erection. A hand crept up and around to my breast, causing me to gasp.

Then suddenly, he released me. Chuckling, he said, “Yes, you will do just fine.”

Turning to the man holding his coat, he ordered him, “Go clean up her face and bring her to my office. I have unfinished business I need to attend to before we depart.”

Returning his attention to me, he looked me up and down like a lion sizing up its kill. “And I may have time for a brief distraction as well.”

Damn, maybe I’d overdone it.

The man with the black coat draped over his arm pointed at me and then toward the back of the warehouse. I turned and walked to where he indicated.

I stepped into the shadows and soon found myself in a hallway lined with closed doors. When we reached the end, the man pushed one open and shoved me forward. “Go clean yourself up and make it quick.”

It was a dingy bathroom with a couple of stalls and a sink. I took my time, trying to delay the inevitable. My reflection reaffirmed what I already knew—I was a disaster. Searching under the sink, I found a small box containing various toiletries. Among the items was a hairbrush. God, how it grossed me out thinking about having to use it, but what choice did I have? I quickly washed my face and did the best I could with my hair. I tried to sponge off some of the filthy smell of the bay water from my skin, but it was no use.

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