Page 3 of Stolen By the Bratva King

I try to scream but the sound gets stuck in my throat. Panic swallows me whole. I try to break free, try to force my legs to move. My thighs burn from the effort. My teeth grind together. I’m not making any progress to get away from my assailant.

Finally, I manage to make a noise of distress but it’s nothing more than a strangled cry. A gloved hand that smells like metal and leather slides over my mouth. I try to bite down on fingers, but the hand is pressing too hard. I can’t even breath, much less move my jaw.

Tears spring in my eyes, blurring my vision. I glance up but can’t see anything but hazy blue sky.

“Not so fast,” a male voice growls from behind me. His breath is hot on the back of my neck.

His palm shoves against my lower back, driving me forward. My arms flail in front of me as I grasp for balance, but he quickly takes the upper hand and reaches around, cuffing my wrists.

He pins my arms behind my back. A knee digs into the back of my thighs. “Move,” he growls.

A tear rolls down my cheek and I shudder out a low sob. My knees buckle and my legs are made of jelly.

The man makes frustrated, jerky movements as he pushes me along. I scurry on scrambling heels.

He stops in front of the door, breathing heavily. He pushes me against the wall of the building. His hands canvas down my waist and hips. I make another sob sound as he spreads my legs, tears rolling faster down my cheeks now. How could I be so stupid to think I ever could have pulled this off by myself?

“Please, don’t… don’t hurt me. I have… cards… a wallet in my purse…”

He barks out a scoff as if he’s insulted in my assumption that he’s trying to rob me. “I’m checking you for weapons.”

“I don’t have any weapons… I promise…” I stammer and trail off, squeezing my eyes shut.

Satisfied that I’m telling the truth, he peels me from the wall and reaches out and flings the warehouse door open with a loud crash. It slams behind us as we barrel through it.

“Please,” I beg, trembling in every bone of my body. “I can give you whatever you want.”

“You’ve got a mouth on you. I might need to tape it shut,” he grunts.

The bright sunlight disappears as if through a tunnel, replaced by the dim lighting of a single, swinging lightbulb on a string over my head.

It smells musty like a basement, with a thin hint of rust and bay water. The man thrusts his hand between my shoulder blades and knocks me down.

My knees hit the concrete floor and pain roars up my thighs, through my abdomen, jolting up my spine like white-hot electricity.

I cry out as my palms splay on the dirty, dusty floor.

Heads snap in my direction, distrustful eyes narrowing.

“Look at the cute little prize I just caught,” my captor’s voice gloats from behind me. “Saw her doing some snooping. Maybe she should stick to minding her own business.”

I try to scramble to my feet, but he pushes me back down. I experience a moment of fear so paramount, it’s almost as if I’m floating up out of my body and viewing everything as a spectator of someone else’s life. I breathe in and out with desperate gulps.

Something hard and cold slams into the back of my head. My vision fuzzes, and everything around me goes black.

My jaw goes slack, and my arms go limp, wilting by my sides. My body is as heavy as a bowling ball. I collapse onto the dirty floor right before everything goes dark.

2

David

“I’m telling you, something is going on and I don’t like it.” I blow a smoke ring into the air of the passenger seat as we fly down the interstate in one of my armored cars.

“What can I do for you, boss?” Miroslav asks, his eyes briefly flickering in my direction as he grips the wheel.

I take another long drag of my cigar and glare out the window. “Nothing. Just get me in and out in one piece. We have multiple counterfeit shipments that are supposed to be going out today, and I want to be there in person to make sure everything runs smoothly.”

Miroslav’s forehead wrinkles. “Are you concerned there will be a problem?”

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