Page 41 of The Bratva’s Arranged Virgin Bride (Fokin Bratva #8)

An interminable amount of time passed with no leads, no word, nothing but those damn pictures.

It was like I was in a fever dream, waiting for information, like time was moving backward.

It turned out the upscale shopping center was having trouble with its security cameras, so that was a dead end.

It wasn’t a surprise. Whatever Vissarion was, he wasn’t stupid.

He would have made sure they were having problems before he dared take my wife.

Not wanting to, I looked down at the last picture he sent of Nat.

There was very little comfort in knowing she was still alive, but it was all I had to cling to.

In this one, there was blood obscuring half her face.

She looked worn out and broken; the fire in her eyes, visible in the first few pictures, was now completely gone, snuffed out by fear.

“Don’t you dare give up,” I said, trying to send some strength to her, wherever she was. “I will find you. No one takes what’s mine. And you’re mine, Nat. I’m coming for you.”

I was alone on the deck, hoping the sound of the waves would keep me from lashing out at everyone who was working so hard and yet so fruitlessly at finding her.

I loved the ocean because it helped me think, but so far, it was just as useless as my people inside the beach house.

I was beginning to think about calling in the Fokins for backup, but that would be a one-way ticket to never seeing Nat again.

Except… an idea came to me just as a huge wave crashed against the shore, shaking me out of my trance. It was a long shot, but I had nothing else, and every minute that passed, Nat was suffering.

I hurried inside, calling Mat. Thankfully, he answered at all. It seemed like he thought he still owed me something for last night. Good.

“Is the leader of that gang still alive?” I asked, without much hope. The Fokins were notorious for their interrogation tactics, and people rarely lasted long, especially if they had no good information. This was why the idea was a long shot.

“Yes,” Mat said, surprising me. Hope soared again. “He’s holding out, but we’re sure he knows more than he’s currently giving up. We’re keeping him somewhat healthy for the moment, but he’s certainly not happy.”

Ah, they were letting him think he had a shot at survival before they started the heavy hitting. Poor sucker.

“I want to talk to him before you do anything else. Alone. No questions about why.”

There was a long silence as Mat tried to think of a way to say something that wasn’t a question. I began to think of a credible lie. But then he sighed. “I suppose I at least owe you that.”

Yes, he did. I was just glad he realized it. He told me where they were holding the prisoner, and I ended the call, turning to race out of there. Coming face to face with Arkadi, who must have come back into the kitchen when I was on the phone.

“Tell me that wasn’t a Fokin you were speaking to,” he bellowed. “If they find out Nat’s in danger before we rescue her, you won’t live long enough to learn what happened to her.”

I tilted my head to the side as my brother continued to fume about how stupid I was being.

“Is that brotherly concern I’m hearing?” I asked sarcastically when he was done.

I didn’t bother to let him answer, but filled him in on my long shot.

“There was an attack against the Fokins last night, and I think it was orchestrated by Vissarion. The gang responsible is small-time and likely taking orders from him. They’ve got one guy who’s still alive, and he might know where his boss is at.

” I paused and shook my head, already pushing past him.

“If you want to come and help out, you’re welcome.

If not, stay here and wait. I’m done waiting. ”

Mila appeared from behind the door, obviously listening from the hallway. “Of course, he’s going with you. I am, too.”

Arkadi whipped around and gave her a hard look. Anyone else would have recoiled with fear, but his wife only raised her eyebrow at him, daring him to deny her anything. He softened, but only a little.

“Believe me, my love, I know how good you are at getting people to give up information, but I’ll be damned if I let you put yourself in danger while you’re—” he cut himself off abruptly.

To my surprise, Mila didn’t argue any further, even though she didn’t look thrilled to stay behind, either.

It was her niece’s life at stake, after all.

The two of them had an irritatingly sweet goodbye that seemed to last ten years, and I finally stormed out, shouting that I wasn’t waiting any longer.

Arkadi caught up with me as I was putting the car into gear, sliding into the passenger seat, his face a combination of worry and contentment. Instead of roaring out of the driveway, I turned to him.

“If Mila’s so good at interrogations, you should have let her come along. This part won’t be dangerous.” It shouldn’t be, anyway.

“Not happening. She’s pregnant,” Arkadi grunted, unable to hold back how proud he was.

I was gobsmacked. “Were you just never going to tell me that I’m going to be an uncle soon?”

“Why should I have told you?” he asked. “And for that matter, why are you so into being a family all of a sudden?”

My jaw dropped. “I never wanted to be split apart,” I snapped.

“You never fought very hard to return,” he grumbled.

“I was ten,” I reminded him. “And even at that age, I knew someone had to watch over our mother. I never chose any of it.” There was a long silence that Arkadi would never end. I sighed. “We really do have a lot of baggage that needs going through.”

“After we rescue your wife,” he said, nodding for me to get the damn car on the road.

I did, speeding toward the location Mat gave me. Arkadi, all but admitting that he thought the marriage was real, was a tiny flicker of hope for our brotherly relationship.

The safehouse where the Fokins were keeping the prisoner was about an hour away, close to the edge of the desert, and we kept a stony silence between us.

I was mostly preoccupied with how I would deal with the guy, but my thoughts drifted to Arkadi’s announcement.

A baby in the family. And yes, whether he was ready to admit it or not, we were family.

We finally arrived, and the men standing guard were already informed of the promise Mat had made.

I was allowed to go in alone, with Arkadi waiting in the car, so there would be no blowups.

They still didn’t trust me, and the sight of my brother would have caused some major problems I had no time for.

The leader of the ragtag crew that had tried to make a run for the Fokin’s territory wasn’t in great shape.

He was being held in the back room of a nondescript stucco house, far from its nearest neighbor, though soundproofed all the same.

It was surprising how loud someone could scream when a gifted torturer was doing his finest work.

I entered the room and closed the door behind me, moving close enough to make the guy lift his head and mumble something at me.

He was barely able to talk, but there was still a gleam of defiance in his eyes.

For most of the drive, I had planned how I would get him to talk, but my impatience was running thin, and this man seemed to have a lot left in him.

Pulling my gun, I held it to his temple. “Tell me what I need to know, and if it’s true, I’ll make sure you live through this.”

All I got in response was exhausted laughter. Blood drooled from his mouth onto his pants as his head lolled back down. I tapped the gun against his forehead, and he looked up again.

“I mean it. No tricks. One answer, and you’ll walk out of here alive.” I felt confident I could make this happen if what he told me led me to Vissarion. If not, I didn’t care what happened to him.

“What if I don’t feel like answering?” he asked.

I cocked the gun, wrapping my finger lightly around the trigger. “I shoot you right now. No more playtime, you’re just dead.”

The defiance turned to ice-cold fear. This man could take punches and electric jolts all day long, but he clearly didn’t want to meet his maker. “What’s the question?”

“Tell me where Vissarion Kotlov is.”

I could instantly see that he knew, but he remained stubbornly silent.

I tapped him again with the gun and leaned down to speak very low.

Very seriously. “They’re going to kill you,” I said.

“No matter what they say, no matter what you say. You’re not leaving this place alive.

And it’s going to hurt a whole lot more, for a whole lot longer, before they put a bullet in your brain. I can stop it and keep you alive.”

“You’ll make them leave me alone?”

“Until I know what you tell me is true.”

More silence, broken by my phone dinging. I pulled it out, knowing what it was, not wanting to look. But I had to. This time, Nat wasn’t tied to the chair anymore, but cuffed to a bed. Tears streamed down her battered face, and Vissarion’s hand was clasped around her neck.

I hit the man in the side of the head with the gun, then mashed the tip of the barrel into his eye socket. “Five seconds, and then you die. One…”

He reared back, shaking his head to get away from my gun, licking his cracked and bloody lips. “There’s a place in the desert. I can’t guarantee it, but…”

“You can tell me how to get there.”

“Yes.”

The man was desperate to stay alive, and I was desperate to find Nat.

I had no choice but to believe him and try the location he gave me.

I uncocked my gun and put it away. On my way out, I told the men to hold off on any further interrogation until they heard from Mat.

I figured he could give me one more favor.

I’d know soon enough if his prisoner was telling the truth and either lived or died, very, very painfully.

“Why should I do this for you?” Mat asked. “You got your favor.”

“I’m asking you to trust me,” I said. He must have heard the ragged edge to my voice.

“I don’t,” he said slowly. “But I’ll wait out of curiosity.”

I hung up without thanking him, and the tires squealed as I pulled away from the safe house, quickly telling Arkadi where we were going.

He called in backup, telling them we’d wait until they arrived.

Once we were there, I told him there was no way in hell that was happening.

Once again, he let me know how stupid and rash he thought I was being.

“You can sit here and work on your knitting,” I said as I got out of the car. “But let me ask you this. What if it was Mila in there?”

He looked at me for a long moment, then nodded, checking his gun as he slammed open his door.

He had to jog to catch up to me as I followed the sandy trail leading to the desolate shack in the middle of nowhere.

I paused at the perimeter, barely a roughly flattened area of dirt with a few cactus plants to hide behind.

There were no lights on that I could see, but the only window was covered with paper.

The whole area was silent as a tomb, not even a slight rustle of wind.

I began to fear the man was wrong, or brazen enough to lie to me, but then a scream tore through the still night air.