Page 25

Everything happened so fast. I watched Matvei go down, unable to do anything but struggle against the two men dragging me from the car.

He was shot, but where? I couldn’t see, and now all I can imagine is him bleeding out on the side of the road while I’m here, helpless to do anything for him. Wherever here is.

It’s damp and smells of mildew and dust. The air is stale and slightly chilled, but that’s all I can tell behind my blindfold.

One of the men steers me forward by the binding around my wrists, jerking me roughly to the side when he wants me to turn.

I stumble forward. The ground is hard, concrete probably, and my steps echo in what must be a large, open space.

“Sit,” he orders, yanking me to a halt. He’s not the only one in the room with me. I hear shuffling and a muffled conversation, too quiet to make out, from somewhere behind me.

When I don’t move fast enough, he kicks the backs of my knees and knocks me to the ground. I barely catch myself before hitting the ground hard, landing on my hip to take the worst of the fall.

“Who are you?” I ask for what must be the tenth time. They ignore me. Again.

Someone yanks my blindfold off, and I blink against the sudden light, coming in through a narrow window high above my head. I’m in a warehouse. It’s like a bad dream, the sort of nightmare I’d had when Matvei first kidnapped me and I had no idea where I was being taken, but it’s a reality now.

Three of the masked men are in the room, their faces completely hidden by black ski masks.

Is this the Shevchenko family getting their revenge on Matvei for ruining their alliance?

I want to wrap my hands around my stomach, a gesture that’s already become second nature, but my hands are tied tightly behind my back, and no matter how I twist my hands, I can’t escape the binds.

“Stop that,” one of the man barks, cuffing me on the side of the head. “Sit still and stay quiet. We’re watching.”

With that, the men leave. I have no doubt there are cameras in the room, even if I can’t spot them from where I’m sitting. When they leave, I scramble around to set my back against the wall and take stock of the situation. That’s when I realize I’m not alone.

A young woman sits across from me, leaning against the far wall with her knees tucked up to her chest. Her ankles are bound, and her eyes are wide with terror. Her hair is disheveled, and dirt smudges her cheeks. It looks like she’s been here longer than I have.

“Hello,” I say, quietly, glancing toward the door. “I’m Anya.”

She licks her chapped lips. “Stefania.”

I try to place the name. If she’s here, she’s got to be from one of the Bratva families. No one else is worth kidnapping.

“Are you an Abashin?”

The girl shakes her head. “Shevchenko.”

Well shit, there goes my theory that this was part of a Shevchenko plot. If not them, who? I start to scoot closer toward her, glancing every so often at the door, pausing to listen for footsteps.

“Have you been here long?”

She watches my progress with panicked eyes. “Two days. It feels like a hundred.”

“Have they hurt you?” I don’t know who these men are, but I’m sure they’re capable of anything if they’re willing to capture two young women.

“Only when they brought me in,” she says, tilting her head to one side so I can see the bruise purpling her temple. “I tried to fight. They didn’t like that.”

“They never do,” I mutter, finally reaching her side.

“They’re going to kill us,” she whispers.

I can see red, angry marks on the skin beneath her bindings where she’s been struggling.

“Probably not,” I reason, trying to keep my voice calm.

She’s on the edge of panicking. “We’re more useful to them if we’re alive.

That way, they can leverage us for whatever their goal is. The question is, who are they?”

The room we’re in is devoid of any hint of the men’s identities. All I can see are four grey walls and a grey floor to match.

Stefania shakes her head again, and a tear rolls down her cheek. “I have no idea. They come in twice a day to bring water and to bring me to the bathroom, but that’s it. Otherwise, I don’t hear anything. I think the whole place is empty.”

And hot. Sweat beads on my face and down my back.

“And have they already come twice today?”

“No, just once. I thought they were coming to bring me water when you were pulled in.”

I sit back and consider our options. They’re slim. “Is it a long walk to the bathroom? And how many men come at a time?”

“Yes, and just the one. I don’t think they consider me much of a threat.” She raises her cuffed hands in a helpless gesture.

Only one man and a long walk in a mostly empty warehouse. Maybe we have a chance to break out if they underestimate us.

“Well, now there are two of us. That doubles our chance of getting out of here.” I force as much optimism as I can into my voice.

Hopefully, all these men want is to use us as hostages.

They’ll keep us locked up here until they get what they want from our families.

But there’s no guarantee of how they’ll treat us in the meantime, and no guarantee they won’t just shoot us if they don’t get what they want.

We can’t rely on their goodwill, and we can’t rely on a rescue. We have to try to get out on our own.

I tell her as much.

“But how? We’re tied up. They have guns. There’s nothing we can do.”

Part of me agrees with her, but I’m not willing to give up hope yet.

“See that window up there? I think we’re both small enough to fit through it, if we can get to it.

First, we get out of these bindings. Then, I’ll boost you up, and you can help me out once you’re up there. The ledge looks wide enough.”

Stefania eyes the window skeptically. “You’re crazy. Even if we get out of here, then what? We could be in the middle of nowhere.”

“Anything is better than in here with them, right?”

After a moment’s hesitation, she nods. “But I’ve been trying to get out of these ties the entire time. How are we going to do it now?”

If there’s one thing my brothers made sure of, it was that I had a thorough knowledge of self-defense and how to escape restraints. I thought they were paranoid at the time, but now I’m grateful.

“They’re zip ties, so we’ll help each other.” I walk her through the steps of pressing the mechanism inside the zip tie. It won’t be easy, but I know that between the two of us, we can do it.

“Here they come,” she hisses, warning me to silence.

Two sets of footsteps approach. They take us one at a time to the bathroom, a humiliating affair, before putting us back in the room. The masked man pours a mouthful of water down my throat, and I splutter, trying not to choke on it. Stefania coughs beside me, water streaming down her chin.

Once they leave, I make my way back over and sit in front of her, talking her through the process of removing my zip ties. It’s a long, tense moment, but finally I feel the slight release as she presses the mechanism and I yank my wrists apart, freeing myself. Then I turn and unbind Stefania.

“They don’t come back after that, right?” I whisper, straining my ears to hear anything from the other side of the wall. I’m sure they’re out there standing guard, but I can’t tell.

“No, they haven’t.”

“Hopefully, they keep the same routine tonight.” I glance up at the window. It seems impossibly far away, but it’s our only chance. There’s no way we can fight our way out. “Come on, I’ll boost you up.”

I crouch beneath the window and brace my leg for Stefania to climb on. She steps tentatively onto my knee and wobbles before catching herself against the wall.

“It’s too far,” she says, balancing on her toes and stretching toward the ledge. “I can’t reach it.”

“Maybe we can get you up on my shoulders,” I say, helping her back down to the ground.

A thud comes from the other side of the wall. We freeze.

“They’re coming back!” Stefania cries, grabbing my arms.

There’s another thud and a shout, followed by a gunshot and the sounds of way more than two men.

“I don’t think so,” I say, tucking her behind me and turning to face the door. Fear thumps in my chest until I hear the deep timbre of a familiar voice: Matvei.

He bursts through the door a second later, followed by Anton, Viktor, and Timofey. Three more men I don’t recognize follow behind them, running past me to Stefania.

“Anya!” Matvei rushes toward me, favoring his right leg, and scoops me into his arms. I collapse against him, letting him hold me. “You’re bleeding.”

I follow his gaze to my thighs, and my stomach sinks. I hadn’t realized. What if something has happened to the baby? “I’m okay,” I say quickly, praying it’s true. “But I saw you get shot.”

Before he can reply, Viktor cuts in. “Save the reunion for once we’re out of here.”

“We’ve gotta move,” Anton agrees. “No telling when backup will arrive.”

Matvei nods tightly, and we file out of the room in a narrow formation, with Viktor and a Shevchenko sweeping ahead while Matvei stays glued to my side. He holds my hand like he’ll never let it go again.

“Who were they?” I ask Matvei as we climb into the back of Anton’s car. He wraps his arm around my shoulder and settles me against him.

“I don’t know,” he growls, “but I’m going to find out.”