When I woke, I expected to be in police custody, not Ivan’s. At least the men told me it was Ivan who was holding me here; I hadn’t actually seen him myself yet. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. And being left in the dark, unable to know what’s going on, where Wren is, or if she’s being harmed, has been unbearable.
The guards leave the room, and I step forward, grabbing my tray and pulling it back toward me, where I have more room to move. On it is a bottle of water and some meat patties. Unfortunately, they have never given me any utensils, which is a shame, as I’ve been hoping to use them to help me escape.
I study the label on the water bottle, once again, it’s in Russian. My stomach tightens with what that might mean.
Eating my food quickly, I move back to the nail I was working on. I’m hoping that if I can pull it free, I can use it to pick the lock on the metal cuff on my wrist. I know they chain up the outside of the door, but step one is getting this chain off me first.
This day ends up being the same as all the days before it. I’m brought food twice a day by the same two guards. I try to work on an escape plan while trying to remain calm, not knowing what’s happening to my girl. Then I end up fallingasleep with nightmares filled with terrible images of Ivan and what he’s doing to Wren, only to wake and repeat it all over again.
When the door opens and Roman steps in, I expect them to bring me breakfast, but this time, when Nikolai enters, he’s not holding any food.
“I’m going to unlock your chains and put these on you,” he says, holding up a set of handcuffs. “Try anything, and Roman’s been instructed to shoot you in the foot.” Roman aims as if ready to shoot the second he sees me do anything wrong.
Deciding I like my foot, hole-free, I nod and hold out my wrists. I let him remove the chains and handcuff me instead. This was better; I could run in these if I found the opportunity.
I’m led outside, with the sharp head of the gun pressed to my back, and I try not to show any surprise at my surroundings when I see where I am for the first time since I woke up in this shed.
There are a few inches of snow covering everything, and I gaze around, seeing I’m in some sort of fenced property. It’s not too dissimilar from Robert’s compound in Montana. A large home stands at the other end of the property, but what captures my attention most is its distinctly Russian architecture—its ornate woodwork around the roof line and windows, not to mention the Russian flag waving proudly from a forty-foot flag pole.
I’m in Russia.
The Russian water bottle label had already warned me that it might be the case, but now I had a sinking feeling that I was right. Fuck, this is bad. How did he get me here? Is Wren here, too? The feds and the guys would never find us, nor would they even be able togethere.
No, if we truly are in Russia, there is no help coming. If I want to escape, it’s on me to do so. But first, I need to know if I’m alone or if my girl is somewhere on this property, too.
I’m nudged in the direction of the home and make sure to take note of everything. How many guards and where they’re stationed, the building's entry and exit points, the perimeter, and anything else noteworthy.
Once inside, my eyes catch on a discarded newspaper on a side table, confirming that I am, in fact, in Russia.
This definitely complicates things.
If I can manage to escape, navigating myself to safety would be difficult. My mother spoke Russian and taught me, so it’s not that I wouldn’t understand people; I could even read a few words, but I don’t think I could communicate effectively in written Russian.
There seem to be guards everywhere inside, making the chance of escape grow smaller and smaller.
I’m led down a hallway, and near the end, a guard pulls open a set of double doors for us as I’m nudged inside.
My eyes instantly find Ivan sitting at the head of the table, and my entire body grows taut at the sight of him. He grins at me, as if knowing a secret I’m not privy to.
“Ah, there you are. I’m glad you could join us for breakfast this morning.”
I realize there’s someone else sitting at the table, a few seats down, with their back to me. With the high back chairs, I hadn’t noticed them at first. But as they turn theirhead, my eyes grow wide with surprise, relief, and fear all at once.
“Jagger!” Wren yells, shoving her chair back and running to me. I quickly move forward, closing the distance between us. I lift my arms so she can wrap herself around my front, then lower my cuffed wrists behind her head and hold her to me tightly.
“Dios mio! I can’t believe you’re here! Have you been here this whole time?” she asks, pulling her head back to look up at me. I nod in response, and her eyes start to look me over, as if looking for damage, and I do the same.
“They haven’t hurt you?” she asks, and I shake my head again. I dip my head as if to ask about her, and thankfully, she understands. “No one has touched me,” she says quietly.
But it’s still loud enough for Ivan to hear. “Not yet,” he adds, making me pull her tightly to me as I turn us sideways and glare at him, which only seems to amuse him to no end.
“Ah, young love, so beautiful, isn’t it?” He gestures to us as he looks at one of the guards stationed around the edge of the room.
“Da,” the guard responds in Russian.
“It would be such a shame for something to come between them.”
“What’s your problem?” Wren asks angrily, surprising me with her venom.
