Page 56 of Delicious Prey

“Because I love you, and I couldn’t bear to lie to you anymore. I want you to be with me while knowing the whole truth. I want your forgiveness, zaika. I want you, all of you.” He brings my hand to his face, pressing the palm of it against his cheek. He lets out a breath and closes his eyes. “I can’t live without you. I can’t go back to a life that doesn’t have you in it, right at the center of it.”

I don’t like seeing him like this, and even though I know he’s responsible for my dad’s death, I take no pleasure in seeing him hurting like this, and I know I can’t just run away. If I can’t forgive him, then I at least deserve some closure, but that will require a conversation that I don’t have it in me to have right now.

“Peanut’s sleeping, so if it’s okay with you, I’m going to leave him here.”

His eyes study mine. He knows what I’m offering, sees it as the olive branch it is. “Of course it’s okay. I’ll make sure he’s taken care of.”

I use every ounce of willpower I possess and pull my hand back. Before he lets me go, he kisses my palm and tells me he loves me again. I let out a sob as I turn and run back into the bedroom. I hurry up and pull on some clothes and sneakers and bolt out of the room before I can change my mind. I don’t dare look back at him, knowing all my courage will leave me if I do and I’ll just crumble into heap on the damn floor.

The black Ferrari is ready and waiting, and I know he’s watching me on his security cameras as I peel out of the garage and race down his long driveway. As soon as I pass through the open gate, it starts to shut behind me, and the sight of those iron bars closing in my rearview mirror is enough to make me start sobbing again. He murdered my dad, and he lied to me about it, so why in the hell does it feel so damn wrong to be driving away? My heart feels like it’s breaking in two, and my chest aches while my lungs struggle to fill with air. Unable to even see the damn road, I pull off to the side and cover my face with my hands, crying until my throat hurts, I feel weak, and my eyes are swollen and red. A little voice whispers in the back of my head that he never did actually lie to my face about this. He never flat-out said that he didn’t kill my dad. He just very strongly hinted that he didn’t do it. Is there a difference? Does it make it any better that he never looked me in the eyes and said I didn’t kill your dad?

Maybe…kind of. God, I don’t know.

I’m just about to start the car back up when there’s a sharp tap on the window. I yelp in surprise, bringing my hand to my heart. My first thought is that Kirill followed me, but the man peering in the window is a complete stranger to me. He’s older, but not by too much, probably mid-thirties, with dark eyes and a friendly smile on his face.

“Are you okay?” He speaks loud enough for me to hear through the window and looks at me with concern. No doubt I look like a crazy woman. I’m crying on the side of the road in the middle of the night, and looking down I realize that the clothes I grabbed don’t even match. Well, that’s just fucking perfect.

Trying like hell to appear sane, I smile and say, “Yes, I’m fine. Thank you.”

“You don’t look fine. Do you live around here? Would you like me to help you get home or call someone to come get you?”

He has an accent, but it’s not the Russian one I’ve grown so used to. If I had to guess, I’d say Italian, and that’s when alarm bells start ringing. I give him an I’m completely harmless and clueless smile while I slowly snake one hand up to start the car. That’s when his grin turns wicked. I watch his face go from friendly stranger to deadly threat in less than two seconds. His lips curl up in a smirk as he brings one hand up and I see the gun he’s holding. He taps the muzzle against the window.

“Get out of the fucking car, Lydia.”

I try to come up with a plan that will save my ass, but my brain feels frozen, unable to process what’s going on. The only thing running through my mind is that I’m so freaking glad I left Peanut at the house and that I wish Kirill was here. He’d know what to do. When I don’t move, the man points the gun at me.

“I can shoot you in the thigh and drag you out of there if you want. Either way, you’re coming with me. It’s just that one way hurts a hell of a lot more than the other.” He gives me another creepy smile. “Choose fast.”

“I’m coming,” I quickly say, because no way in hell am I actually going to choose to get shot if I don’t have to. He’s right. There’s no way I’m getting out of this on my own. He’ll shoot me before I can even get the car started. When I unlock the door, he wrenches it open and grabs onto my arm, squeezing tight enough to make me gasp. It’s a cruel grip, one Kirill would never use on me, and the thought that I might never see him again, that I’m going to be killed and he’ll never know that I lied when I said I didn’t love him is enough to make me start crying again. I just left him, crying and alone and in complete anguish.

“Shut the fuck up,” the man growls at me, pulling me to the car parked behind me that I hadn’t even noticed was there. The lights are off, but when we get closer, someone turns them back on. The man opens the door and shoves me into the backseat, lowering himself in as he keeps his gun pointed at me. Two men are up front, both of them looking just as dangerous as the man sitting next to me.

“What’s going on?” I ask, trying to sound brave and not like I’m seconds away from losing control of my bladder.

The man next to me says, “I told you to shut the fuck up.” He switches to Italian and starts talking to the others. The driver turns to look back at me. His eyes run over me, and I quickly cross my arms over my chest, hiding the fact that I didn’t put a bra on before I’d left the house. The grin he gives me terrifies me more than the gun pointed at me. A bullet to the head is at least a quick death, but this man is looking at me like I’d be begging for death by the time he’s done with me. Without a word, he turns back around and starts driving.

I stare out the window, feeling the weight of my cell phone in my pocket but too scared to try and do anything with it. After a few minutes of silence, the men start speaking Italian again and I very slowly creep my fingers to my thigh. None of them seem to be on to me, so I slide my hand in my pocket, feeling the edge of my phone. I’m just about to use my fingerprint to unlock it when the sound of the cutesy ringtone I’d assigned to Kirill fills the inside of the car. I bite back my curse and clutch my phone.

“Give it to me,” the man next to me yells. When I hesitate, he adds, “Give me the motherfucking phone or I will strip search you in the back of this car and you can ride the rest of the way naked. Your fucking choice.”

I see Kirill’s name when I start to hand the phone over, and before I can talk myself out of it, I swipe my finger across the screen and yell, “Help! Three Italians! I’m in their car!” It’s all I can get out before I’m punched in the face, the force of it knocking my head against the window. My last thought is of Kirill before everything turns black.

Chapter 15

Kirill

Everything inside me freezes when I hear Lydia’s panicked, terror-filled voice. Sober in an instant, I stand and grip my phone even tighter.

“Baby? What’s going on? Are you okay?”

I hear a loud thud, a pained moan, and then silence. With the blood rushing through my ears and the fear that’s etched its way into every cell in my body, it takes me a few seconds to realize that someone ended the call. I replay what she’d yelled out to me. Three Italians have her in their car. There’s no way in hell Enzo isn’t behind this. I killed his son, and now he has the woman I love more than anything in this world. When I call Vadim and explain what just happened, my voice is shaking, and I think that freaks him out more than anything else.

“I’m on my way,” he quickly tells me. “We’ll get her back, Kirill.”

I don’t bother agreeing with him. I just hang up and start putting all the weapons back on that I’d just taken off a few hours ago. Memories of my little bunny flood my brain, images of me fucking and holding her mixed with the look of absolute horror when I’d made my confession to her. I should’ve just kept my damn mouth shut, carried the burden and guilt around for the rest of my life, but I’d wanted to be honest with her. I’d wanted her forgiveness. All it did was hurt her and now her life is in danger because of me.

I pull up the tracking sensor I have on my car and the tracking app I installed on her phone shortly after she came here. The information is just coming up when I hear the alarm go off, letting me know that Vadim’s arrived. I open the gate for him and zoom in on the map that’s filling my monitor. The car is only a couple of miles away, but the other dot on the screen is heading further south into Enzo’s territory. The fact that they haven’t disabled her phone yet doesn’t sit well with me. They’re either the stupidest kidnappers alive or they want me to know where she’s at so I’ll follow. I’m guessing it’s the latter. Enzo doesn’t just want her; he wants me too.

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