Page 5 of The Russian Pakhan's Forced Bride
They’re all huge and silent while they move, faces distorted by the darkness shrouding everything. I can’t see anything on their clothing to distinguish who they are. No logos, badges, or uniforms…they certainly aren’t officers. They all look blank, as if the shadows had come to life.
Swallowing hard, I glance between them and my car.
Only a few more steps…if I can just get to it, maybe then I’ll have a fighting chance…
Quickening my steps, my pulse roars in my ears, and every movement I make feels sharp and disoriented.
Fumbling with my keys, I try to focus on getting there…reaching the car and calling the police.
Just before I can reach the driver’s side, one of them steps in front of me, cutting me off.
My eyes widen, and I recoil back, trying to retreat, but only to find the others flanking the other side.
Trembling, I look up at the tall figure, able to feel that panic set in, grappling at the edges of my sanity.
“Who are you?” I manage, voice quiet and tight. Instinctively, I hold my purse out. “I don’t have cash, but just…take it. I don’t have anything else…”
But the man doesn’t say anything.
Instead, he takes another step towards me. I take one back, and my heart stutters.
“Please…”
“We’re not here for your belongings,” he mumbles, voice low.
My breaths leave me in shaky pants. “…then what do you want?”
Again, silence.
Glancing around, the others are herding me, and the darkness surrounding them doesn’t help to make them look any less ominous.
The panic coursing through me wraps around my throat, preventing me from saying anything more. From screaming or many any moves to try and escape. The hopelessness accompanying it is stifling.
It’s been a while since that kind of anxiety reared its head, but it’s all too familiar. All too real.
Then he comes into view.
The group instinctively parts as a man taller than the rest appears at the center, giving off a distinct air of authority. His presence is loud and domineering, yet somehow still calculated and shadow-like.
My heart nearly stops at how beautiful and savage he looks all at once.
Tall, well-built with dark hair and a jaw sharp enough to cut…everything about him looks intentional, down to his trimmed stubble and measuring gaze. And god, those eyes…steely blue and domineering to the point of nearly pinning me on the spot.
His expression is unreadable, yet something tells me he isn’t a man to be messed with.
Both tempting and menacing, part of me only wants to see more of him, while the rest silently demands I run as far away as possible.
His eyes lock with mine, and just as I open my mouth to speak, a strangled sound escapes me as something pricks my neck, and an icy feeling courses through me.
Startled, I blink through the strange sensation, whirling around to see a brief flash of light bouncing off something shiny—the sharp point of a needle.
My blood immediately runs cold as the seconds tick by, and nobody says a word while it all sets in.
Little by little, my vision begins to blur, and my heart slows despite my panic. My breath almost echoes in my ears as I try to stay steady, but it’s no use.
Not when I can’t feel my limbs.
“Easy…” a rough voice murmurs as everything shifts around me, and I struggle to focus through the muddled mess in my head.
