Page 21 of Knocked-Up Bratva Prisoner

“Alexei—" I shout.

“Come on, I’ve got some fresh clothes for you inside. You can change out of this muddy dress.”

“I’m not wearing one of your hooker girlfriends' leftover clothes,” I snap.

“It’s all brand new. In fact, you are my very first guests here.”

What the fuck is going on?

He opens the front door, and we walk into the warm and welcoming space. He carries me over to the sofa and sets me down on it, making sure to lock the door behind us.

My eyes are constantly roaming, searching, taking everything in. Every door, every window, every opportunity to escape.

He is watching me closely.

“All of these doors are coded. You won’t get them open without me,” he says calmly. “I am going to get the first aid kit and then we can take a look at your feet. Although I think you might want to have a hot shower or a bath first before we disinfect them."

He nods, his mind made up already.

He leans down at scoops me up again.

“Just let me walk,” I complain. “And untie my hands.”

“I’ll untie your hands in a minute. But if I let you walk, you are going to get blood on my floors. I think you cut your foot badly.”

He carries me into one of the upstairs bedrooms and sets me on the edge of the bath. While he is busy tapping the bath, I pull my foot onto my lap and look at the sole.

Shit.

It’s pretty bad.

Maybe it just looks bad because it’s so dirty, too.

The bathroom starts to warm up as steam fills the air and Alexei tosses aromatherapy oils into the water.

Is he really going to try and tell me he’s never had another woman here? Why would he have essential oils?

Chapter 6 - Alexei

I have to turn my back on Clara to start running the bath, but I keep glancing back towards her, keeping a close eye on her.

She surprised me with how hard she fought to get out of that car and how fast she ran through that forest. I was not expecting that. I guess I should be more cautious of what she is capable of. I have underestimated her once already now.

I definitely did not expect this last-minute choice to kidnap her to turn into such a rough and life-threatening experience. She almost died out there in the forest. The thought makes me sick to my stomach.

I never intended to hurt her in any way. I’ll try and make it smoother and calmer from here on out.

I pick up the small bottles of aromatherapy oils, which, amusingly enough, I purchased because they made me think of her. Magnolia and vanilla.

Clara is fussing about, looking at her feet. They are covered in mud and blood.

“Are you okay?”

“Do I look okay?” she snaps.

I ignore her sass and pick up a cloth, which I dip into the warm bath water.

“Let me wipe the mud off before you get in.” She pulls her mouth tight but doesn’t try to stop me. I work gently and wipe her feet as clean as I can without hurting her.

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