Page 6 of Forcibly Sold to the Bratva
“Once we’re outside, we go straight to my car,” he whispers. “Okay? It’s parked right by the exit.”
I nod, my heart sinking. I know I have no time to insist that I can walk to my car. It’s safer to just get the hell out of here.
We run through the liquor store, and I notice some of the store assistants looking at me with relief. They knew, I think to myself in anger, that I was in danger. Yet, none intruded.
Perhaps it was wise that I didn’t put up a fight.
Outside, the stranger guides me to his car, a sleek black sports car. He opens the door and tells me to get in.
I hesitate for just a second, looking around wildly. There are people on the street, but would any of them help if I screamed? I don’t think I should get into a stranger’s car.
“Now,” he says, his voice urgent. “They’re coming.”
I look behind me, and sure as day, they’re beginning to break into a run. I slide in instantly, and as he closes it behind me, I run toward the driver’s side.
He gets in, revs the engine, and drives the hell out of here. Really, really fast.
One of our chasers shouts and tries to shoot at the car. I scream in shock, watching as the car skids.
“Get down!” The stranger pushes my head below the dashboard as we accelerate. I hear something hit the back window, but I don’t look up.
We drive in silence for several minutes, taking sharp turns. Finally, he says, “You can sit up now.”
I straighten, rubbing my neck. “Thank you,” I say cautiously. “For getting me away from them. For…saving me.”
He darts his eyes toward me and gives me a polite smile. He has a dimple, I notice. And his face, away from that seedy club, is dangerously handsome.
“What’s your name?” I ask when he says nothing.
“Ilariy,” he says, and then goes quiet again.
“Thank you…Ilariy. I’m afraid I’ve really put you out tonight.” I let out a nervous giggle. “I’d hate to take up more of your time. Would it be possible for you to please take me to this address? I’m certain my brothers would be happy to pay you for your efforts tonight.”
I reach for my phone to show him the address.
He glances at the screen, then back at the road. Once again, he doesn’t say a word.
I assume he’s not the talkative type, and I settle back in my seat, willing my heart to stop racing. I’m safe now, I tell myself over and over again.
I look out of the window casually, watching the roads pass by, but sit up when I notice he’s taken the wrong turn.
“Oh, Ilariy,” I try to speak politely. “I think we had to go that way.” I point to the road on the left that has now fallen behind us.
He doesn’t answer, accelerating down a street I don’t recognize.
My heart begins to race again, and I lean closer to the window, looking out. “Please,” I say, nervously now. “This isn’t the right way!”
In a desperate bid to make him understand, I shove the phone under his nose again. He doesn’t even bother to look at it, instead taking another road I don’t recognize.
Okay, now I’m full-on panicking.
“Stop the car,” I demand. “Let me out now!”
“I can’t do that,” he finally says, proving he isn’t mute. “Those men will be looking for you. And your brothers... well, let’s just say they won’t be happy to see me.”
Fear churns in my stomach. “Who are you?”
Once again, he doesn’t answer. He begins to drive faster, and I turn to try to open the door, but it’s child-locked.
