Page 67 of Puck'N Enemy
Mitchikov’s words make me feel like I’ve been drenched in ice-cold water.
The reality of who Pete Volkov is and how easily he can kill me is unnerving.
Panic crawls under my skin. Sheer helplessness claws at my ribs, making it harder to breathe.
Mitchikov steps closer. “Logan, you’ve got to be strong right now,” he says in a gentler tone. “At least, for Dylan. Pete’s a reckless guy but he’s not stupid. He’s probably already expecting you to charge at him. Don’t give him that satisfaction.”
I silently stare at him, letting him see my desperation.
His eyes soften. “I get it,” he says in a lowered voice. “If it were someone I loved, I’d feel the same way. But you’ve got to play this smart. Trust me. I’m not letting Pete win. He’s already on thin ice with the higher-ups and this stunt will bury him.”
I clench my jaw. I hate waiting for something to happen while my mind keeps conjuring up scenarios where Dylan’s all alone in some dark warehouse, surrounded by Pete’s men.
But I know Mitchikov’s right. I can’t play into Pete’s trap and destroy all hope of saving Dylan.
Finally, with a low, shaky exhale, I nod. “All right. Okay. I’ll wait.”
Mitchikovs claps a hand on my shoulder. “Good. Sit tight. I’ll call my contacts and as soon as I know where he is, you’ll be the first to know. And then we’ll make our move.”
Swallowing hard, I nod. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” he mutters, pulling out his phone.
I sink onto the edge of a nearby bench while he starts making the calls. Pressing my palms together, I close my eyes.
Hold on, Dylan, I silently pray.Be safe until I can reach you. I swear I’m coming to you.
Glancing over at Mitichikov, I realize how grateful I am to have him as a friend. His calm, steady presence is helping me stay focused instead of panicking and rushing into a trap.
Even though I’m stuck in a nightmare, I’m glad he’s by my side. Whether on the ice or off it, Mitchikov has my back.
I take in a deep breath and exhale slowly. It’s almost soul-crushing to wait for news because every second ticking by is another second Dylan is in danger.
21
Dylan
The memories of last night come back to me in broken flashes.
After walking out of Coach Becker’s apartment, I went directly to Pete’s old warehouse located in Knightswood. The stink of dust and oil had hit my nostrils like it used to all those years ago. Every corner was still filled with stacks of wooden boxes, containing all kinds of contrabands.
Several men appeared from the shadows the moment I stepped inside the warehouse. They were waiting for me to fight back but I stayed calm.
Mostly because there were too many of them. And if resisting meant they’d hurt Logan’s family, I couldn’t take the risk of challenging them.
They grabbed me and shoved me into the back of a car and drove me through the town until we reached an upscale downtown neighborhood. There were high-rises all around me, telling me we were far from that abandoned warehouse.
I’d expected them to take me to some rundown den. Instead, I was taken inside a posh apartment building and brought into a luxurious penthouse.
No one came in after that. I paced the room like a wild animal for hours last night. Finally, when I was fully exhausted, I curled up on the couch and fell asleep.
Now, morning sunlight streams through the clear glass windows. It’s warm on my skin but brings me no comfort.
Taking a deep breath, I take in my present surroundings.
The penthouse is disgustingly beautiful. Polished marble floors gleam under soft golden lights. Sleek, velvet furniture dots the wide-open living room area. Floor-to-ceiling windows give a sweeping view of the glittering city below while expensive art covers the walls.
The extravagant luxury makes my situation worse. I’m trapped in a gilded cage.
