Page 8 of Stolen By the Bratva King

“Miroslav?” He calls out, but his eyes never waver from mine.

“Yeah boss?” The large man clomps over to us.

He stops next to David, his head tilting as he gives me a curious glance.

David’s eyes roam over me as if I’m an impressionistic painting he’s trying to figure out. “Take her back to my condo in the city.”

“No, please,” I say in barely a whisper. My voice is burning in my throat, harsh from the screaming.

Somehow, I find my footing and slide myself up the wall to a standing position. I clasp my fingers together and start sobbing and begging like a blubbering mess. My nose and eyes are wet. My face feels puffy and hot. “I’ll do what you want, just please don’t hurt me.”

“Relax.” David isn’t smiling, but his eyes are soft. A muscle twitches in his jaw. “We aren’t going to hurt you.”

He bends his knees, lowering himself to the ground. He sets his gun down, inching his way back up to standing with his arms raised by his sides. His eyebrows lift as he looks at me.

See?His expression seems to say.I keep my promises.

He glances at Miroslav and nods. “Put your gun down.”

Miroslav, on the other hand, is more hesitant to do this. He licks his lips and shifts his weight. “Are you sure about this boss?”

“Do it.” There’s no room for debate when the words leave his mouth.

Miroslav lowers his gun to the ground, giving me a dirty look. It’s clear he doesn’t trust me, but that makes more sense than how David is behaving.

David gives his man a satisfied nod before returning his gaze to me. “We don’t want to frighten this lady any further, now do we?”

Beside him, Miroslav shakes his head but says, “who is she?”

“Good question.” David gives me an expectant glance.

I shake my head. “I’m no one. No one important, I mean. I was just walking by and…”

“Take her to the condo,” David says again, cutting me off. He gives me a reassuring look. “You’ll be safe there.”

When I don’t move, Miroslav takes a step forward. I flinch and make a reflexive whimpering sound.

“You heard him,” Miroslav says and gives me a look that says he doesn’t want to do this anymore than I do, but we don’t have a choice.

I put one foot in front of the other, my arms coiling around my chest, every muscle in my body taut with tension. I weave around the blood and the limp arms and legs on the floor, keeping my eyes fixed in front of me.

Miroslav drags his feet as he walks, his wide shoulders rocking side to side with the attitude of someone reluctant to comply. David’s eyes roam over me again, making me feel a concoction of emotions. Exposed, abused, protected, fearful, and relieved.

“I’ll take care of things here. I’ll call for a crew,” David calls out.

“Ok, boss,” Miroslav sighs, rubbing his forehead as if he’s seen it all, and this gun fight isn’t even the tip of the iceberg. His eyes are tired, and his expression is drawn and grave. He’s seen so much suffering that it only makes him tired, not fearful or sad.

We walk outside and the oppressive heat hits me, the unrelenting sun beating down on my face. My eyes burn from the bright light, and the humidity hasn’t gotten any better. My dress clings to my body again, and I feel a prickle across my skin.

I glance into the warehouse one last time. David is still staring at me, standing deathly still like a Greek statue. The door slams closed, his distracting figure disappearing behind it.

Miroslav urges me forward with a hand on my back toward an armored vehicle.

“Come on,” he says. “We need to get you out of here.”

My eyes land on the warehouse again. How can a man associated with so much evil, crime and violence be the one who just saved me?

More importantly, why did I feel a heat spread through me when his eyes burned into mine? Shouldn’t I loathe him with everyfiber of my being? He’s the reason for all the violence in the city, the root cause of so much suffering.

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