Prisoner (Russian Tattoos Book 2) (23 page)

BOOK: Prisoner (Russian Tattoos Book 2)
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Chapter 34

 

 

Breathless

 

When we arrived in London, Dmitri and I had first-class status and had access to an opulent VIP lounge. The amenities were not even close to what I expected to find at an airport. It felt more like a high-end mall for celebrities. There was a massage parlor, a full-service beauty salon, and a posh boutique with breezy vacation clothes, hats, and designer sunglasses. Best of all, there was a shower in the bathroom.

Vladimir and I had been living in the woods for the last few months and we didn’t have access to modern amenities. I was grateful for the opportunity to clean myself up in a spa-like facility for my homecoming. Dmitri bought me a new outfit to change into, and we made a plan that he would go to the smoking hut to have a cigarette, and I would meet him at the bar after I got cleaned up.

I carried my shopping bag to the bathroom and was thrilled to find the shower was stocked with heavenly-smelling shampoo, conditioner, body wash, and fresh towels. I turned on the water as hot as I could handle and lathered up, scrubbed the grime away from under my nails, and inhaled a series of deep, cleansing breaths.

I changed into my new floral dress, clean undergarments, and wedge sandals, and made my way to the bar. Dmitri wasn’t there yet, so I strolled around the high-rollers club and noshed on complimentary snacks while I waited. I needed to follow Boris’s orders
exactly
and contact my dad, but I wanted Dmitri to be with me when I made the call for moral support.

What is taking him so long?

I pulled out the burner phone he had given me and decided to make the call. I tapped in the country code and entered Dad’s cell number. I took a deep breath and tapped the green call button. After a brief pause that felt like an eternity, the phone rang…one ring…two rings…“Hello? This is Richard Cook.” I covered my mouth when his voice brought all my pent-up emotions from my abduction to the surface. He sounded anxious, desperate. His tone was laced with dread that this could be The Call he hoped would never come.

“Hello? Who is this?”

I lowered my hand and tried to find the courage to speak.

“Carter? Is that you? Talk to me, sweetie. Tell me where you are and I’ll pick you up.” He snapped his fingers and yelled, “I think it’s her! She’s alive!” On the other side of the phone I heard gasps and murmurs, papers rustling in the background. Dad’s breathing had gotten heavier. “Please, Carter. Say anything. Let me know you’re okay.”

I stayed silent, unable to recall what Boris had told me to say. I exhaled as I tried to collect my thoughts and get back to center.

“Are you afraid? Is someone with you?” His elation tanked when I didn’t respond. He had no way of knowing if it was me, and even if he did know, the fact that I wasn’t talking had to be terrifying.

“Mrs. Anderson?” A friendly bloke in a white uniform walked up to me, addressed me by my new identity, and extended his elbow. “This way, please. Your chariot awaits.” He bowed slightly and smiled a toothy grin.

Startled, I tapped the red button on the phone and hung up on my dad. I would call him back when Dmitri was with me.
Hang on, Dad. I’ll be home soon.
I eyed the guy in uniform suspiciously. How did he know my name? “I’m waiting for my travel companion.”

“Yes, ma’am. Your companion, Dmitri, has ordered afternoon tea service and asked me to fetch you. He would like you to join him in our private room.”

I squinted at the smoker’s lounge to see if I could spot him. He wasn’t in there. “I’m not going anywhere without him.”

The guy smiled apologetically. “Ah, yes. He thought as much. He said to tell you he is taking an important telephone call with a gentleman named Vladimir
and that he will join you momentarily to deliver some sort of good news.” He lifted his elbow higher. “He was quite insistent.”

I wanted the words he spoke to be true, but for all I knew, he could be on Maksim’s payroll. I searched the bloke’s face and body for Russian tattoos, a telltale sign he could cover up, but never erase. His hands were ink-free, nothing on his neck, no scars, British accent, no trace of Russian. He appeared to be
Bratva
-free, but I had to be absolutely certain. “Unbutton your shirt.”

“Bloody hell,” he said, outraged by my crazy.

“Do it.”

He huffed but did what I said.

“Take it off.”

With an exacerbated expression, he unbuttoned his shirt all the way to his waist.

I yanked it off his shoulders to get a good look at his skin. No star tats, no angels, no devils, no Stalin, no cathedrals, no perverted images, no Russian script.

“Shall I drop my pants as well?”

“No. We’re good.” I took his arm and allowed him to escort me to a private room. It was far from the VIP area and wasn’t the white tablecloth, fine china setting I’d expected. It appeared to be more like a breakroom for the restaurant staff. “Why are we here?” I darted my gaze around the room. Panic rocked my body when the realization set in that I had fallen victim to a trap.

I made a run for the door, but Alexander had crept up behind me and blocked my exit as the man in uniform skittered away.
Oh, God.
I turned to run in the other direction, but he caught me, locking his arms around my waist. I kicked and thrashed and tried to wrestle out of his grasp, but I wasn’t strong enough to get away. He shoved me into another room where Dmitri was beaten, bloody, and tied to a chair.

Valentina, Maksim’s personal bodyguard, was the one inflicting the damage. She rammed her elbow into Dmitri’s collarbone just as I stepped in the room. He winced from the pain but kept his composure, unwilling to give the witch the satisfaction. My knees buckled, feeling his pain by association.

“Welcome to London, sweet pea.” Maksim greeted me with an enthusiastic grin, thrilled his hard work had paid off and he had finally made it to the Winner’s Circle. “You look radiant, Carter. Living on the lam has served you well.” He caressed my cheek with his fingertips and lowered his gaze to my chest. “I’m delighted to see you again.”

Fear is my enemy. Find a weapon. Fight dirty. Breathe, breathe, breathe…

“Don’t be frightened. I won’t hurt you—as long as you do exactly what I say.” He grinned sadistically, and then turned his attention to Valentina. “If the brute doesn’t want to talk, I have no use for him anymore.” He gestured at Dmitri and turned his back.

Valentina yelled at Dmitri in Russian. When he didn’t respond, she raised her fist to deliver another blow. Whatever Maksim wanted to know, Dmitri would never tell them. He would die before turning into a rat.


Wait!
Please don’t hurt him, Maksim.” Alexander shook me in his arms to keep me quiet.

Maksim raised his hand to stop his enforcer. “Maybe you can help us then, princess. Dmitri is rather tight-lipped. Where can we find your dead husband?”

That was a simple question, with an easy answer. “I don’t know—Dmitri doesn’t either. Your men were the last to see him.”

Maksim nodded thoughtfully, seemingly intrigued that I was being compliant. “Where do you plan to meet up with him? Perhaps we’ll catch him there.”

I tightened my lips.

Valentina smiled and stalked toward me, taking the cue that my silence would give her a reason to beat the truth out of me. She might’ve seen me as an easy target, but she had no idea what lengths I’d go to in order to protect my family. I would do anything to protect our child,
except
rat out my husband. I would die before I betrayed him. I stuck to my convictions and closed my eyes, bracing myself for the beating that was about to come down on me.

As I waited, breathless, a soft hand grasped my chin. I snapped out of my protective shell and met Maksim’s pale, blue eyes.

“Since you and your bodyguard don’t want to talk, I have an even better idea of how to catch your husband.” Maksim was grinning as if he got some sort of perverted pleasure when he dreamed up this idea. “Carter, you will accompany me to my home in London, and Dmitri will go fetch your husband and bring him to me. If Vladimir wants you to walk away alive and unharmed, he’ll surrender to me so we can take care of some
unfinished
business.”

“You twisted little—”

Valentina’s face burned with rage and she stalked toward me, eager for any excuse to beat the life out of me.

Maksim waved her off and placed his finger on my lips, holding it there like a loaded gun. “Don’t interrupt me when I’m speaking again, love. I won’t tolerate your disrespectful American tone. Next time, I won’t be so forgiving.”

Keeping my mouth shut is an easy way to stay out of trouble.

“I will give Vladimir three days to turn himself in to me at my London compound,” Maksim said. “That gives us plenty of time to get to know each other. As long as you stay in my good graces, you have my word you will leave without a scratch. Not a bad deal for you, eh?” Maksim said something to Alexander which prompted him to release me from his death grip.

My body was sweaty and my new dress was clinging to me like plastic wrap. I straightened my clothes and brushed my hair out of my face and over my shoulders. Valentina opened the door where I had entered, and Maksim extended his elbow, inviting me to leave with him willingly instead of by force. I placed my hand on his arm and kept my gaze on Dmitri until I could no longer see him and we were out the door.


Izvinite
, Carter,” Dmitri called after me.

Maksim whisked me through the airport, flanked by a team of his bodyguards. The only way I could save my husband’s life was to escape from the clutches of the Ovechkin
Bratva
before Vladimir surrendered. It would be impossible to make my move while I was surrounded by men as strong and tall as skyscrapers. I had to wait for the right moment and seize my opportunity when I had a fighting chance.

The guards led us through the exit door and into the parking lot. It was drizzling outside and Maksim’s entourage held umbrellas over our heads as they directed us to a fleet of silver Range Rovers.

Now is the time to make my move. If I don’t get away now, I may never get another chance. I’m Vladimir’s only hope. I’ll fight to save him. Do whatever it takes to escape…

As we approached, a driver tipped his hat and readied his hand on the door handle of one of the vehicles. I had Maksim on my right and four guards boxing me in.

Find a weapon, fight dirty, play to your opponent’s weakness…

I didn’t have a weapon. Fight dirty how? What weakness? If I got in that car, Vladimir was a dead man. My legs buckled as we neared the SUV.

The driver opened the door and Maksim placed his hand on the small of my back as he guided me inside. When the door slammed shut, I was his hostage. A pawn in the deadly game playing out between my husband and his rival, the untouchable Maksim Ovechkin. Vladimir would have no choice but to surrender, and I had little faith I would walk away unscathed from their
Bratva
death match.

I placed my hand on my baby bump and said a silent prayer for our child.

Maksim captured my trembling hand and held it on his lap. He brushed his thumb across my wrist as the Rover pulled out of the airport and onto the road. He gazed at me with his wicked blue eyes, admiring me as if I were his most valuable possession. I cringed as I imagined the dirty and vile thoughts spinning through that monster’s mind as he caressed my clammy skin.

“What if Vladimir doesn’t surrender to you?” My words caught in my throat.

Maksim’s lips curled into a sinister smile. He lifted my hand and planted a kiss on the inside of my wrist. “Then there’s no reason to ever let you go, love. You’ll belong to me. Forever.”

 

 

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Acknowledgments

 

I am grateful to my family for encouraging me to pursue my dreams and for supporting me in every way imaginable. I thank my husband for his moral support, friendship, and unconditional love. My respect and adoration for him is immeasurable, and I am blessed to be married to such a wonderful man.

I thank my son for serving as “tech-support” and for helping me with all my computer emergencies, and to my girls for schooling me on social media and college life. Not a day goes by that I don’t talk to my mom, and I am grateful she shines her light of eternal optimism over me and encourages me to do what I love.

I also thank Limitless Publishing for believing in my work and me, the talented design team along with Wicked by Design for creating a striking cover, to all the members of Team Limitless for their behind the scenes work and encouragement, to Karin, Jo, and A.S. for reading early drafts, and to my editors Deborah and Lori for helping me improve my craft.

Finally, I would like to send a huge shout-out, virtual fist-bumps, and high-fives to every single person who has read this book. There are millions of titles out there to choose from, and I am beyond grateful and humbled you chose to read my book.
Spasibo!

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