Across the room, West kneels down in front of the man and growls, “You try anything like that again, we’ll leave you for Kolya with a pretty pink bow in your hair and a full recording of every fucking thing you told us. Understand?”
“Da.Da!I am sorry! Please do not hurt me!”
West pulls a zip tie from his back pocket and binds the guy’s hands together behind his back.
“Wait,” I manage as I try to extricate myself from Ryker’s iron grip. “What’s going on? Ry? Who is that?”
“A fucking coward,” he mutters, but loosens his hold enough so I can turn in his arms as West hauls the man to his feet.
Blond hair. Pale blue eyes. The last remnants of adolescent acne still sprinkling across his cheeks. “Oh my God. Semyon. You found him?”
“A few hours after you were taken,” Inara replies. “Little shit handed you over to Kolya because he thought the world’s mosthonest man everwould just let him and Elena go.”
Betrayal stings my eyes. Not for me, but for my brother. “Z loved you,” I whisper. “He tried to get you out. Hediedfor you and Elena.”
“Zion wastupoy. He fucked Elena. You want to know why he came back to the United States,cyka? Because Kolya found out.” Semyon’s voice trembles, and he juts his chin into the air and looks away, blinking his shimmering eyes rapidly. “No one see her for months after that. She was beautiful. Not now.”
I rest my cheek against Ryker’s chest, unable to argue with the boy’s anger. But since we’re not all on a plane heading back to the states, I know she’ll be free. Ryker and his team won’t let her stay Kolya’s prisoner. “I’m sorry,” I say quietly, risking a quick peek at Semyon. “I can’t undo what happened. But we’re here…for her. And for you.”
Semyon spits in my direction and utters a string of words in Russian I assume is mostly profanity from the look on Inara’s face.
“Get him the fuck out of here,” Ryker says sharply. “He doesn’t come anywhere near Wren—or me—unless he wants to be sent back to Kolya in pieces.”
“Ry…” I try to link our fingers, but he won’t open his fist. I’d go after Semyon as West shoves him down the hall, but I’d probably topple over, and Ryker’s tense enough already. “I think someone needs to tell me what happened after you found Semyon.”
33
Ryker
Waking up without Wren at my side scared the shit out of me. To see her with that asshole’s hands around her throat and terror in her eyes…I might never let her out of my sight again.
After West secures Semyon in the basement, he and Inara disappear into the kitchen, and the scents of eggs and bacon waft in. Wren sits stiffly at my side, cradling her right hand in her lap.
“Are you okay?” I reach for her fingers, and the purple and green beads around my wrist catch the light. “Sweetheart? This is yours…”
She stops me before I can give it back to her. “Not yet. I don’t…I need you to keep it for me. For a little bit.”
“I don’t understand.” Turning to face her, I notice the bruises on her hand. “Fuck, Wren. Did you…punch the bastard?”
A hint of a smile tugs at the corners of her lips. “Hurt like hell. But…it dazed him enough for me to get away.”
Gently folding her hand into a fist, I adjust her grip. “Next time, keep your fingers flat to the first knuckle, and your thumb curled between the second knuckles of your index and middle finger. Like this.”
Wren’s gaze shifts between my eyes and her hand. “Okay.”
“Then, when you throw the punch, tilt your wrist down just slightly. You want to keep your first two knuckles in line with your forearm.”
Scooting back on the couch, I hold up my palm. “Try it.”
“It’ll hurt.”
“Not if you do it right. Not even with those bruises. Go slow. Don’t put any force behind it. Just try the motion.” I don’t know why it’s suddenly so important to me that she learn how to punch. I’ll protect her with my life. But whether out of fear or just because I don’t want to ask why she needs me to keep her bracelet, I have to do this.
Extending her arm, she touches my palm. “Good. A little more of an angle.” Again, and this time, she’s dead on. “Harder.”
Though the uncertainty on her face makes my heart hurt, she punches my hand with enough force to sting a little. “Ow,” she whispers, but her smile belies her words. “When…this is all over, will you teach me how to fight?”
“You’d be better off learning from West.” I push to my feet, an intense need to pace, to move, to burn off all this nervous energy consuming me. When this is all over…we live on two different sides of the country. And I’m so fucking in love with her I don’t know how I’ll survive if she doesn’t want me.
