Page 3

Chapter

Three

EVIE

H is hand stinks like oil and sweat.

I try to speak, but I can’t with his hand over my mouth. All I can feel is him dragging me out of the club into a back alleyway.

I never should’ve left tonight. The world was so much safer when it was just in books.

He drags me with him even as I struggle and fight. It’s pointless. He’s too strong.

And then an idea hits me. I once read a book about self-defense techniques. It said that in a situation like this, the victim should go limp. It will surprise the attacker, and then the victim can make a run for it.

So, I force my body to go still. It’s a difficult thing to do with the adrenaline coursing through my body, but I manage it.

He jerks in surprise, and I use that to my advantage by stomping on his toe. He grunts, his hold loosening .

I drop to the ground like a sack of potatoes and roll away. Thank goodness for my sensible shoes. I’m able to jump up and start running.

“Help!” I shout as I make it to the sidewalk. There’s no one there. Then I remember another technique—don’t shout for help. No one will actually help a woman when she’s doing that. Shout “fire” instead. People respond to that word.

“Fire!” I start screaming as I run down the sidewalk. “Fire!”

“Shut up!” someone screams from an apartment above.

I gasp and stumble over something hard.

“Watch it,” a man grumbles. It’s a man, lying on the ground that I tripped over. Homeless by the look of him.

“I need help,” I gasp. “Please.”

He just grunts and rolls over onto his side.

I’m on my own.

“Fire!” I continue to shout, but then arms wrap around my waist. His smelly hand is back on my mouth.

“You’re not going to get away from me,” he growls.

I bite his hand.

With a hiss, he lets me go and slaps me across the face so hard I stumble to the ground. I’m too woozy to put up a fight, so when he grabs me and forces me into a nearby car, I don’t stop it.

It’s only when he begins to drive us away from the club do I realize how much danger I’m in.

“Who are you?” I ask. I try the door handle, but it’s locked. Not surprising.

“The name’s Dima.”

“Why are you doing this?”

His eyes slant toward me, and the look he gives sends shivers down my spine. “Because you’re exactly my type.”

“Your type? Wh-what does that mean?” I stutter. I’m not sure I want to know, but it’s better if I do. The more information I have, the more it can help me. If there’s anything I learned from reading so much, it’s that you can never have too much information.

“It means I like girls like you. Brown hair. Small. Pale. You’re my type. What’s your name? ”

“Evelyn.” I can’t give him the name I go by more often. Juno calls me Evelyn, but my real family calls me Evie. Katya does. My dad did. This man doesn’t get the right to call me Evie.

“What a pretty name.”

I take in a long deep inhale, but it doesn’t help my nerves one bit. “What are you going to do with me?”

“Why ruin the surprise?”

“I want to know,” I say firmly. Maybe if I know more details, I can get out of this situation.

“You want to know how I’m going to kill you, is that it?”

I gasp. My back presses against the door, but I’m not going anywhere. “You’re going to kill me?”

“Well, yes.” He states it like it’s obvious. “I told you, Evelyn, you’re my type.”

I look out at the city as it passes us by. All the bright lights, even in the dark. All the people safe in their beds. I could have been one of those people, but I just had to leave for once in my life. If I survive this, I’ll hole up in the library and never leave again.

Then it hits me. Dima says I’m his type. He wants to kill me. I remember the news report about a serial killer. About the victims he went after. The victims that look a lot like me.

“You’re a serial killer, aren’t you?” I whisper. “The one the police are searching for.”

He throws his head back and laughs. “You’re smart. How did you figure that one out?”

“Like you said, I’m smart.” Oh my god. I’m in a car with the killer the police are looking for right now. None of his other victims escaped. I’m going to die.

The thought hits me right in the stomach so fast I almost vomit. Never before in my life have I felt such crippling fear.

I bend forward and take in shallow breaths as I hold my head in my hands.

“Panicking, Evelyn?”

I sit back up and look at him. He’s clearly stronger than me. He’s clearly the one in control here because he has all the advantage. He knows where he’s going. He knows exactly what he’s going to do to me.

For once, I don’t know what’s going to happen. I can’t just open a book and look through the index and find what I’m searching for.

That knowledge—or lack thereof—is what’s crippling.

But I can’t just give up and die. I made a choice to leave my house tonight. A choice to leave Juno behind. A choice to get out of my books for once.

I can’t just die after all of that.

I keep my eyes on Dima the entire drive. I know why he doesn’t blindfold me. He thinks I’m not going to make it out of this. I don’t bother watching my surroundings because it’s not going to help. I have no idea where I am, but what I do know is who I’m with.

If I just keep my eyes on Dima, then maybe I can stop him from hurting me.

We finally stop outside a quaint little house. It’s shabby. Needs a paint job. The front yard is all dead, yellow grass. The chain link fence makes the entire facade more ominous.

“It’s time,” he says, getting out of the car.

I try the door again, but it’s locked. He shuts his door before I can try escaping out that way. I have no choice but to watch him walk around the car and open my door.

And then I react.

I use the palm of my hand and slam it into his throat. He jerks back, letting out a choked grunt. I run.

For a moment, I feel freedom. I can taste it.

And then Dima grabs me again and throws me to the ground. He kicks my head, making everything go dizzy. My limbs refuse to work as he lifts me and carries me inside. If his hands smelled, his house reeks.

It smells like death, I realize.

He brings me down to a basement where an operating table sits in the middle of the room. Next to it is a table full of scalpels and scissors .

Dima tosses me onto the table and locks me down with straps. I’m not going anywhere.

He smiles down at me. “Ready to play?”

I try to scream, but he stuffs a rag into my mouth.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He picks up a pair of scissors and starts cutting my dress up the middle. He pulls it apart to reveal my bra and underwear underneath.

“You are beautiful,” he tells me. “I’m going to play with your body for a while before I kill you.”

He raises the scalpel high.

The doorbell rings.

He frowns and slowly sets the scalpel down. “Don’t make a sound.” Then he heads upstairs, leaving me down here, strapped to a table.

DIMITRI

“Katya,” I say, tapping her face. The crowd of Bratva fathers and their daughters surround me. Even Abram watches on with curiosity at the sight of my unconscious sister.

“Katya,” I say louder and practically slap her face to wake her up.

It does the trick.

With a gasp, her eyes open.

I slump and pull her against me. We’ve never been the most touchy, feely of siblings, but right now, all I want to do is hug my baby sister.

“Dimitri,” she whispers then pulls back with a jerk. “Oh my god. What happened?”

“You tell me. Who did this to you?”

“Some man … I don’t know his name.” She looks around. “Where’s Evie?”

It’s then that I remember—Dima dragging Evie out of the club.

“Shit,” I groan. If Evie had been any random woman, I probably wouldn’t have helped her. I tend to live my life with one motto: If it doesn’t affect me, it’s not my problem. And Dima taking Evie is not my problem .

But she’s Katya’s best friend. I have to do something, and I hate that I have to do something.

“What?” she asks. When I refuse to look at her, she grabs my face. “Dimitri, what?”

“Dima took her.”

“Who the hell is Dima?”

“He’s a little weasel of a fellow who likes to kill women.”

“You saw him take Evie?”

“Yes.”

She blinks then slaps me across the face.

“Katya, jeez.” I rub my cheek. “Watch out for the goods.”

“You didn’t stop him? If you saw him take her, then go save her!”

I groan and stand, helping Katya up with me. “Fine. I’ll go get her. I know where Dima lives.”

“Good. I’m coming with.”

“No.”

“Dimitri.”

“Katya.”

We glare at each other until Katya’s shoulders slump. “Fine. Just save her.”

I motion to a few of my guards. “Make sure she gets home ok.” I start heading for the front door until Abram steps into my path.

“We’re not done here, Dimitri.”

I push him out of the way. “You declared war on me, Abram. I think we’re done here.”

“Wait!” A woman calls out. A woman with a raspy voice. Irina. She jogs over to me in her heels, which is an impressive sight. “You’re just going to leave? The only reason we’re all here is to see you.”

“Well, you saw me.”

“Do I have a chance?”

I hesitate. Irina is fucking hot. God, it’s a struggle to not go take her to a back room and fuck the daylights out of her. But Katya is glaring at me, and I know I need to go do the right thing.

“I just have to go,” I mumble, leaving the club and all the women in it behind .

The drive to Dima’s house isn’t long, but knowing that he’s probably in the act of killing Evie makes the entire drive feel like multiple hours.

I know Dima likes to kill women. It’s his pastime. Is it barbaric? Yes. Do I agree with it? Fuck no. I’m a lover, not a fighter. But Dima never bothered me before so I never bothered to take him out. He works for the Bratva doing odd jobs for me and a few other men here and there. It’s how he makes his money. He’s good at it, so I never even thought about killing him.

Now, I’m going to have to get my hands bloody. And in my nice suit, too.

All for a girl I don’t care about.

Well, maybe I do care … slightly. Evie is cute and not afraid of me. A lot of women know who I am. That doesn’t stop them from fucking me, but I know that most of them do it because they want me for my power, good looks, and money.

But Evie didn’t speak to me a flattering way. She spoke to me like a woman who didn’t give one rat’s ass about who I was.

It was honestly refreshing.

She doesn’t deserve to die just because I’m some selfish asshole. Katya doesn’t deserve to lose her friend either.

I reach Dima’s house and walk right up to the door. Sure, I could bust it down, but it’s a lot more fun to ring the doorbell. I’m trying to be a gentleman here and do the right thing.

I hear footsteps approach the door and then it cracks open. One of Dima’s creepy little eyes peers out at me.

“Dimitri? What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you, actually. It seems that you’ve taken something that doesn’t belong to you.”

He scoffs. “What? No!”

I sigh and push the door open. He tries to fight it, but he doesn’t win. I’m just too strong, a point I like to make. “I know you kidnapped another girl, Dima. Now, I’ve let it slide in the past because, frankly, it was just easier. I don’t want the police snooping around when it comes to you. As a Bratva man, if you’re in danger, then you put all of us in danger.”

“So, that’s why you’re here? To make sure the police don’t find me?”

“No, you dumbass. I’m here because you stole Evie, and she doesn’t belong to you.”

“Evie,” he says in a breathless tone. I hate the way he says her name. A surge of possessiveness fills me. It’s a feeling I’ve never felt before.

“Listen, do you have her in your creepy little basement or not?”

His eyes flick away from me and then back. “Not.”

“You’re such a fucking liar, Dima.” I shove the door open wider and step inside. And then promptly gag. “God, it fucking reeks in here. Dima, you really need to think about hiring a housekeeper. I have one, and she does wonderful work around the house.”

“I’ll get right on that.” He scratches his balls through his pants.

“Jeez, man. Where are your manners?”

He slowly pulls his hand away from his groin. “Oh, sorry.”

“God, Dima. You’re so gross. But none of that matters. Just tell me where Evie is, and I’ll let you live.”

“Really? You won’t try and stop me?”

I shrug. “I don’t like to murder people if I don’t have to.” I mean, that’s a blatant lie. I love causing chaos. But Dima doesn’t need to know that. I just need to get Evie away to safety, and then I can kill Dima. He’s a little weasel fucker who needs to die.

“But, Dimitri, she’s mine. I found her. I took her. I want to kill her.”

A flare of anger soars through me. For some reason, I don’t want Evie to get hurt. And it’s not just because she’s Katya’s friend. “Well, tough shit, Dima. Now, move out of the way.” I shove him so hard, he flops right to the ground.

My footsteps are loud on the old floor as I head for the basement. I know that’s where Dima does his killings. I mean, where else are you going to kill a person in your own home, you know ?

When I reach the bottom of the stairs and enter into the basement, I see Evie strapped to a table, her dress cut open.

“Mmm!” she tries to say, struggling against the straps holding her down.

“Shit,” I mutter. This isn’t good. I don’t normally care if people I don’t care about live or die.

But the sight of Evie on that table fills me with rage.

I storm over to her and undo the straps. She sits up, rips the rag out of her mouth, and tries to put her dress back together, but it’s pointless. I know right now is a terrible time to tell her she’s got a great body. See? I can exhibit self-control.

“Dimitri?” she asks. The sound of her voice, so weak and scared, fills me with a protectiveness I’ve never felt before.

“I’m gonna take you home. Can you walk?”

She shakes her head. “He hit me. I’m dizzy.”

“I’ve got you.” I scoop her into my arms. Suddenly, I’m filled with the sensation of just how right she feels within my arms.

I carry her upstairs to where Dima is pacing around the living room. Evie screams at the sight of him. “He’s not going to hurt you. Come on. Let me get you into my car.”

After placing Evie inside my car, I head back into the house to shoot Dima in the fucking head.

But the little fucker isn’t there anymore. I check the basement. Gone. After doing a sweep of the house, I don’t find him.

I hurry back to Evie and get inside. “What’s your address?”

“Um … I’m sorry. Dimitri, what happened? Are you going to call the police?”

“No.” I start driving.

“No? Why not? He’s a murderer. He’s the killer the police have been looking for!”

“I know.”

She waits and, when I don’t say more, says, “And?”

“And he wasn’t there when I went back in to kill him.”

She gasps. “To … kill him?” I notice her hands move straight to the door handle. “Let me out. ”

I stop the car, which only makes her scramble at the door handle more. “Evie, I’m not going to kill you. You’re Katya’s friend. Besides, I don’t murder innocent women. It’s not my style.”

“Then what is your style?” she asks slowly.

“I’m going to get you home safely.” I start driving again. At least Evie isn’t freaking out any longer.

“Who exactly are you?”

“Has Katya told you?”

“She told me you’re … the Bratva. That you work for the Russian mob.”

“Well, then, you know who I am.”

She lets out a huff. “That’s it? You don’t want to give me more information?”

“What more information is there to give? You know my deepest, darkest secret. Well, actually most people in my life know who I am. Now, you know, too. There’s nothing else to say.”

“You just said you were going to kill that man! That’s not normal.”

“My life isn’t normal, and neither is Katya’s.”

Evie goes quiet and sits back in her seat, contemplating my words. “I can’t believe she never told me.”

“She was probably just trying to protect you.”

“That’s not exactly comforting.”

I glance at her and see she’s gone pale. “Hey, you ok?”

“No! I was just kidnapped by a serial killer and almost died until you came along and saved me. But you work for the mob. I’m not sure I’m exactly safe with you either. And why am I even telling you this?”

“Because I’m easy to talk to?” I flash her my most charming smile.

It doesn’t even faze her. She just sinks deeper into her seat, looking like she wants to cry.

Ok. I’m not used to comforting women. When it gets to heavy, emotional shit, I’m out. I’m there for the sex, and that’s it.

But with Evie, it’s already different.

“Your address?” I gently remind her.

“Right.” After a long moment, she finally tells me, and then she falls silent again. I want to know what she’s thinking. Never before have I cared what’s on a woman’s mind.

I reach her house and come to a stop. “Do you live alone?” If she tells me she lives with her boyfriend, I might hit something. God, why am I so fucking possessive of this girl in such a short amount of time?

I don’t care about her.

I can’t.

She’s not a Bratva woman. Bringing a non-Bratva woman into the mix is never a good idea. She doesn’t know our customs. Granted, I eschew those customs. If I truly followed them, I’d be married to Tatiana by now.

But secondly, she’s Katya’s best friend. I can’t exactly make her mine.

Or … can I?

I still have to find a woman to marry. If Abram gets what he wants, he’ll force me into a marriage with Tatiana, but if I’m already married, he can’t do that. Sure, he can still cause other issues, but making me marry his daughter is not one of them.

I like Evie. I know literally nothing about her other than she’s a librarian and is Katya’s friend.

And that she’s brave and speaks her mind.

But other than that, she’s a stranger. Yet I want her. Dima is still out there. Knowing him, he’ll come looking for Evie again. She’s exactly his type, and she slipped through his fingers.

She’s not safe on her own.

She needs a protector.

She needs someone like … me.

Evie finally answers my question. “No. I live with my stepmom.”

“No boyfriend?”

“No.”

I have to ask. “Husband?”

She scoffs. “No.”

“Good. Then I need to tell you something, and I doubt you’re going to like it. ”

“What?” She turns to me, holding her dress closed. She looks so vulnerable that I almost feel guilty that I’m about to ruin her life.

But her life was already ruined the moment Dima set his sights onto her.

“I’m looking for a wife,” I tell her.

“… Ok?”

“I want you to be that wife.”

She blinks and then begins to laugh. It goes on for a long time, with her laughter becoming increasingly loud until she finally calms down. “I’m sorry … What?”

“Actually, I’m not asking. I’m telling you. You’re going to be my wife, Evie.”

“What? Why?” She tries opening the door again, but it’s still locked. “Let me out, Dimitri.”

“I need a wife. You need protection. It’s the only way to guarantee Dima doesn’t try and kill you again.”

That gets her to stop and face me. “What?”

“He won’t stop. He’ll try again. You’re his target now. But he won’t come after you if I’m protecting you.”

“Then why can’t you just protect me? Why marry me?”

“Because he needs to know you’re mine.” I pause. “Also, I need to get this pesky fucker off my back. He wants me to marry his daughter, and I hate her so …”

“So, you need to marry someone else instead.”

“Exactly.”

“Why not choose a woman you know? One you love?”

“Because I don’t love anyone.” The moment those words leave me, I realize just how pathetic is sounds. Fuck, I’m a pussy. “Well, except for Katya, but she’s my sister, and that would be awkward.”

For the first time since meeting her, Evie smiles slightly. “That would be awkward. Incest is illegal.”

“Exactly. You’re smart. I like that in a woman.”

“Really?”

“Why do you sound so surprised? ”

Her lips part, and her eyes widen. It’s a cute look on her. “I’m sorry. I just assumed…”

“That I’m a shallow fucker?”

She flushes red. “Well, I wouldn’t say it exactly in those terms, but …”

“I am a shallow fucker. It’s true. Listen, Evie, it’s a conundrum we’re both in. I know you don’t know me, but I’m Katya’s brother. How bad can I be?”

“She complains all the time about how much you control her life.”

I blink. “Well, there you go. I’m a controlling asshole.”

“I can’t marry you, Dimitri.”

I rub the back of my neck. “Listen, this is awkward, but … I’m not exactly giving you a choice.”

“What?”

“I want you, Evie. Fuck knows why, but I do. And you need protection from Dima. You can’t argue with me on that. So, you’re going to be my wife. It’s settled.” I clap my hands together. “So, shall we go get married?”

Evie looks at me with wide eyes. “You’re a madman.”

“No, I’m a Bratva man. You know I’m right, Evie. You know you’re not safe from Dima. So, just say yes. Make this easy on us.”

She finally gets the door open and runs screaming to her house.

Well, that didn’t go as I expected it to.