Page 63 of Viparious

Two buttons.

“Are they dead?”

Two buttons.

“You called them back when you stayed?”

Two buttons.

“For fuck’s sake!”

His anger makes me feel better.

“Stay on the phone, meelaya, I won’t let anyone hurt either of you.”

One button.

Fear overtakes his voice, making it tremble.

“Are you hurt?”

Two buttons, and there’s no sound through the door.

I press my ear to the wood and my phone to the other side as I listen to Vlad promise murder in my name.

“I am the biggest cunt to exist, no one will get fucking close to you. When I’ve put the suka’s head on a fucking pike to show that you are out of limits, no one will fucking dare look at you. Either of you. Okay? You’re both mine, under my protection and my responsibility, Inessa.”

Relaxing enough to speak, I press the phone deeper to my ear like that will ensure I’m not heard.

“I know. We?—”

The door jolts at my back, cutting me off, and my phone drops from the force as I choke on my fear. Holding the floor for support, I dig my heels in and push back, praying that my weight will keep it in place.

“INESSA?!”

I can hear Vlad’s muted shout, but a sob breaks free as my hands slip. Whoever the fuck is battering their full body weight against the wood is pushing me enough to create an opening. A hand slithers through the crack, and my neck strains from how hard my head is pulled to the side. I cradle my baby with both hands, and I don’t give a fuck if my head is bashed in, as long as she’s safe. She’s still growing, and nothing else matters.

The stupid fucking room is too big, and I can’t stretch my legs to use a wall for stability as hot tears burn the backs of my eyes. The fear is keeping them at bay as a scream builds inside of me. Needing to be rational, I look around for anything I can use as a weapon. There are no guns in the house. Fuck, I should have taken one from Ana or a knife. Fucking anything.

The hand in my hair twists the strands, pulling them out of my scalp. They continue tugging until my head is bent. A kick hits the door into my spine and temple, creating a big enough gap for their booted foot to be wedged into it as I beg, “Stop! I’m pregnant!”

They tug harder, and I stop pushing my weight back as I’m thrown to the side. My hands come out in time to stop the impact against my stomach, and the edge of the door slams into my spine. The booted foot is next, knocking the air out of me. I curl up, protecting the only one who requires it and cradle my stomach.

The dark doesn’t allow me to make out the person’s features as they grab my hair, ripping more out. A pained scream echoes through the room as they step on my ankle. Something clatters behind me, but I stay in the position I’m in, with my knees biting into the ground and my head tucked in as much as possible. My hands don’t leave my stomach. Like this, she’ll be okay. My baby will be okay.

My head is pulled up so fast my neck can’t counteract the movement and the low light of my phone moves from the floor to the motherfucker’s face who is holding me. He doesn’t say anything as Vlad screams murder. Len just smiles at me. My other senses take over as he presses his knee into my nape and covers my mouth with his alcohol-ridden hand. It burns up my nose, and I bite down on my teeth to stop it from seeping in as much as possible. He’s sober, I can see it in his eyes, but he smells like he’s been pickled for years as he ends the call without saying anything.

Pulling me up by my hair, I straighten my spine, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of me being timid. Even though my tears don’t stop, and my arms are wrapped around my middle, I convince myself that he won’t hurt his own grandchild. There’s no taunt or goading as he lets go of my face to grab my hair and drag me with him through the hallway. The office door is open, the wall has large holes in it, and the desk is upturned. I didn’t know it had drawers, but he’s managed to open them. Papers lay strewn across the floor, each of them blank, and he twist his fist around my strands as he continues to drag me into the elevator. I shouldn’t be thankful, but I am because this is less dangerous than the staircase. I don’t trust that he wouldn’t throw me down them.

My phone lights up in his hand as Vlad keeps calling back, but he ignores it, allowing it to ring out. He’ll come, he said he won’t let anyone hurt us, he won’t abandon me if I’m in danger. The ping of the elevator doors doesn’t reduce the stench of alcohol. It increases it, making my eyes sting. My bare feet slip against the wood, and the smell finally makes sense. There’s no heat in my threat as I try to make the psychotic prick see reason.

“The Pakhan won’t allow the disrespect of you hurting his family.”

Grandfather will tear Len to fucking shreds whether I get out alive or not, but I focus on him not killing me, or hurting my daughter. “He’ll be forced to retaliate.”

A scoff brushes my shoulder, and he lets me into his fucked up plan as we reach the ground floor.

“Maybe that will teach my sons not to be fucking weak, allowing a whore to rule them.”

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