Page 98 of Vitaly

I don’t answer.

“Is it because it was your mother’s place toescape? Did you think you could escape from me there too?”

My hands grasp the chain, making it rattle, and Nikita glances up at it, looking pleased with himself. He points his stare at my flared nostrils next.

“How could you not realize I knew all about it? Did you not believe me when I said she and I were close?”

“What does it matter?” I snap. “Why am I here, Nikita?” I rattle the chains. “All I did was leave.”

“Uh-uh-uh.” He raises a finger. “No lies, nephew. You were never going to stay gone.”

“Then kill me,” I say, my voice cold. Serious. Just in case he somehow believes I’m afraid to die. That I’m even afraid to be skinned alive.

No. In life, when you cause so much pain to survive, there is a price to pay at the end of it. I’ve always known that.

Thick lines form on Nikita’s forehead. “Have patience, Nephew. You’re going to spoil all my fun.”

His sing-song voice grates my ears like he’s rolling an icepick around my ear drum. I’dpreferthe ice pick. I’d respect it more.

My blood boiling, I gather saliva and spit in Nikita’s face. He closes his eyes, but his amusement never fades. The bastard doesn’t even lose all of his grin as he wipes his cheek and opens his eyes, letting them fall to my chest while I seethe.

“Let he who is without sincast the first stone.” He points to my tattoo. “You know, I’ve heard of guys getting all Jesus-freaky in prison, but I wonder… Do you think youareJesus, Vitaly? Is that why you have such a love of whores?”

My eyes bulge, but when I go to spit again, Nikita is quick to thrust a blade against my lips. I didn’t even realize he had one.

I glare while his smile finally morphs into a sneer. “Vitaly the savior,” he mocks. “Does that make me the devil?”

When I don’t answer, when Ican’tanswer, he leans in close, until his breath touches my scorching ears. “When I get that little whore of mine back, I think I’ll throw the first stone.”

He pulls back to see my reaction, which I don’t give him. I’ll never show him the cold fear his words just sliced me with. Heremoves the knife before turning to walk away, satisfied with himself.

“You’ll never find her!” I shout at his back, thrashing in the chains.

He turns. “I don’tneedto find her. She’s a loyal little cunt. She’ll come to you.” He winks before leaving me hanging with that thought.

I maintain my scowl until he’s out of the room, but when he’s gone, I catch sight of the man next to me. All at once, the weight of Nikita’s cruelty falls onto me. I hurl onto the floor until drool hangs from my lips, my stomach feeling no better emptied.

I don’t care about the man, but the reminder of what Nikita is capable of makes me think of all the things he’ll do to Mila once he has her. Because he will have her. He’s right. She’ll come for me.

Tomorrow.

27

MILA

The car Vitaly promised to send never arrives.

I pace the living room with the curtains I promised Roman I’d keep closed wide open and spin toward them with urgency every time my back has been turned for more than a moment. But still, no car appears in the dusty drive.

A half hour goes by after the car was supposed to show.

Then a full hour.

Finally, my pacing stops. I stand, staring at the window as loose bits of air still manage to expand my chest, even though it feels as if there isn’t enough oxygen in the room.

The throwing knife Vitaly gave me is tucked into the top of my sports bra at my back. I’m wearing a tank top that hangs low, so I have easy access to the knife. All it would take is one swift lift of my arm to grasp the blade.

There’s a six-inch section of wood on the garage outside that’s nothing but light, chipped wood against a dark brown canvas showing my hours of practice with this knife. I practiced just as Vitaly suggested. Quietly. Never showing my intentions to my imagined enemy. I know this blade like it’s my friend. A giftfrom my love. A token of his belief in me, of his respect for me as not just a woman he loves but a partner he can fight beside.

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