Page 85 of Thorns of Love
Nikita grinned a cruel, twisted smile. “Don’t worry, he’ll be next.”
Before I could say anything else, the guy behind me shoved me forward, the sharp object digging into my back. “Get into the car.”
It was the worst thing I could do. Once in the car, my chances of escaping were slim to none. My adrenaline surged and I elbowed the guy behind me with all my might. I kicked at him, then screamed, yelling for anyone and everyone.
He let out a string of curses but his grip didn’t lessen. The trunk popped open. I was lifted up in the air, my legs pushed against the frame of the car.
“Help!” I shouted and screamed as loud as my lungs would support me.
My strength didn’t compare to my captor. He half-carried, half-dragged me forward and shoved me into the trunk.
“Cause any more trouble and I’ll shoot you.”
I twisted around but before I could see who the voice belonged to, he shut the trunk and darkness came. I heard muffled voices, then slamming doors, screeching tires, and we were on the move.
I was locked inside the trunk. Like a goddamn package. Or an animal. Instead of letting panic swell inside me, I let anger overtake me. I was sick and tired of this shit and these Russian motherfuckers always kidnapping me.
I kicked at the trunk, putting all my strength on it. It did nothing but break a heel on my Louboutin shoes. Now that really pissed me off. I just couldn’t catch a break. First Adrian. Then the damn chip. Yakuza. Being kidnapped then married on the fly. Literally.
Jesus Christ.
There was only so much a girl could take.
My chest heaved as I inhaled a deep breath. My eyes stung. I brought my hands to my lower belly and murmured softly, “It’s okay. Papa is going to save us.”
I hope.Then I immediately corrected myself.He will save us. If he doesn’t, Uncle Sasha will.
I had to believe it. Deep in the back of my mind I knew I’d lose my shit if I started to think anything else. I’d have to be prepared, if a window to escape happened, I’d seize it.
But not with these damn shoes. Sighing, I slid my shoes off.
I was as ready as I’d ever be. So I waited and waited.
Suddenly the car came to a stop and I tensed. The trunk opened and bright light flooded my eyes. Thinking on my feet, or on my back in this case, I kicked the guy, aiming for his balls. He hunched over and I climbed out of the trunk.
Before I could take a step, a hand wrapped around my ankle. My legs trembled and I almost toppled over.
“Let me go,” I hissed.
“Stop it or I’ll knock you out cold, Tatiana.” I froze at that voice. I knew that voice.
My chest cracked. The ache burned through my heart and soul.
No, it couldn’t be. My mind was playing tricks on me.
Slowly, as if in a dream, I turned around and came face-to-face with my dead husband.
“Hello, wife. Have you missed me?”
I opened my mouth, yet no words came out. Then I closed it and tried again. I couldn’t find my voice. I couldn’t find the words.
Anger and sadness coasted through me and dug into my chest with claws that would leave permanent marks.
“I take it you’re not happy to see me,pipsqueak.”
“Adrian.” My voice came out void of all emotions.
Just like the eyes staring at me.
