Wren kept me calm. Centered. Focused. And now…
My phone buzzes in my pocket.
Open the damn door.
The pounding. It’s not in my head. Inara.
With Wren’s bracelet still clutched in my hand, I fumble for the lock.
“About time.” Inara pushes past me with a rucksack half her size on her back, and I start to close the door, but a hand shoots out and slams into the wood.
“Is that any way to thank me for postponing my fucking wedding?” West raises a brow, and I stagger back, shocked. “Jesus, Ry. Did you seriously expect me to stay back in Seattle?”
“Where’s Wren?” Inara asks as she drops her pack and West shuts the door behind him.
I look from one to the other, suddenly unable to speak. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. I trace patterns over the beads in my hand.
Inara grabs my arms and tries to shake me. But she’s half my size. “Ry?”
“They took her.” Saying the words suddenly makes the horror real, and then I’m on the floor. I don’t remember sitting. Or falling. My ass hurts. All I can smell is honeysuckle.
Cool fingers touch my face, and for a second, I think…she’s here. I dreamed the whole thing. But then the scent of lilies and vanilla drives the honeysuckle away, and Inara’s face swims in and out of focus. “Ry. Talk to me. Where’s Wren? Where did they take her?”
“He’s too far gone. If she’s wearing her tracker, Royce’s program can find her.” West pulls out his laptop, but even though I should get up, should help him, should dosomething, all I can do is stare at the beads in my hand and think about what Kolya is doing to my sweet Wren, right now.
24
Wren
Ahard slap sends pain exploding in my cheek. “Wake up,cyka.”
Dizzy, I struggle to focus. I’m in a chair—plush, leather—and I try to bring my hand up to soothe the pain, but it won’t move. Oh God. I’m tied up. Ankles secured to the legs of the chair, wrists bound behind me. And the sickening scent of too much aftershave in my nose.
I whimper as another hit sends my head rocking. “Stop. Please.” I can barely manage a whisper through the throbbing in my cheek and the nausea churning in my stomach. Ryker. Where’s Ryker? He was close. I heard him. And then…nothing.
Someone grabs my hair and forces my head back. “You will look at me when I am talking to you.”
Kolya Yegorovich. Oh shit. I’m dead. He’s going to kill me. Panic coils around my heart, and I start to hyperventilate. “P-please…” I beg through rasping, wheezing breaths. “Need…my…meds…”
With a snarl, he punches me in the stomach, and the shock makes me retch as his fist drives the air from my lungs. I hiccup, but after the room stops spinning, I can breathe again. Who knew a punch could stop a panic attack? The absurdity of what just happened makes me want to laugh—or perhaps that’s the terror talking.
“You and your brother have caused me too much trouble. I disposed of him too quickly. You…you will beg me to break you.” His hand tightens around my throat, and I try to pull away, but the back of the chair stops me. As my body runs out of air, tears stream down my cheeks.
Darkness tinges my vision, and I see Ryker’s face, hear the panic as he screamed my name over the roar of my heartbeat in my ears. Ryker will come. Won’t he? He’ll save me like he saved me in Boston.
Except he doesn’t. My arms and legs spasm in their bonds, and pressure builds behind my eyes until I’m sure I’m going to pass out. But then Kolya lets me go, and I suck in huge lungfuls of air until I can see again.
Kolya paces back and forth in front of me, and two large men—blondie and the handsy guy who grabbed me and felt me up at the same time—stand between him and the only door I see in the room. Arms crossed. Guns in shoulder harnesses. Tattoos cover their arms, even up to their necks.
“I thought taking care of you back in the States would be simple. But the stupid fucks I hired could not manage such a simple task. Imagine my surprise when I saw all of those pitiful emails Elena sent your brother had been read. How much did you tell that brute with you?”
Horror clenches in my gut. He knows about Ryker. Does he know about the cameras? The mics? I swallow hard and force myself to meet Kolya’s steely-blue gaze. “Go to hell.”
His deep laugh makes my skin crawl. “You are in no position to make demands,cyka.” A slap to my other cheek makes my ears ring. “What information did your piece of shit brother steal from me? Did you know he tried to blackmail me? Me!” Grabbing my upper arms, he squeezes hard enough to make me gasp. “He thought he could get me to let Elena go. Hergopnikbrother too.”
“You…don’t need them,” I say as another tear rolls down my cheek. “You have…an empire. Zion just…wanted to be…free. Let us all…go and you’ll never…see me again.”
“Stupid bitch,” he mutters as he shoves the chair so hard, it topples onto its side, with me still tied to it. My head hits the rich wood floor, and I see stars.
