Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 80207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
A faint peeping sound comes from Everleigh, and I feel her hands claw at my shirt. Pain rips through my left arm, and a moment later, everything stops. I hear the groaning of metal and something dripping.
What the fuck?
Letting out a groan, I shake my head before pushing myself up from where I’m laying partially over Everleigh.
I grip hold of the driver’s seat and sit up. I notice blood seeping from a gash on my left forearm, then my eyes dart to my brother, who’s slumped over the steering wheel. There’s a cut on his forehead and blood trickling from his mouth.
“Vincent!” Even though I intended to shout, his name is nothing but a hoarse whisper.
“God,” Everleigh whimpers, trying to sit up.
The doors are yanked open, and still dazed from the accident my reaction is delayed as I’m grabbed and hauled from the car.
When my arms are yanked behind my back, and someone starts to fasten zip ties around my wrists, I struggle, shaking my head again to rid myself of the fog left over from the accident.
This is an ambush.
I hear Everleigh cry.
As my eyes flick in her direction, I see men pulling her and Vincent from the wreckage before a fist connects with my face. My muscles strain, but before I can do anything, another blow slams into my temple, and I lose consciousness.
Coming to it feels like I was hit by a train. My mouth is dry, and my head heavy as I roll it to the side. There’s a dull throb in the side of my face.
What the fuck happened?
It doesn’t feel like a hangover, and my mind is too foggy to remember last night.
“Hey,” I hear a panicked female voice. “Wake up. God. Please wake up.”
My mind clears a little, and when I move my left arm, it throbs. I’ve had a broken arm before, so I know it’s not that bad.
Lying on my side, I pry my eyes open only to see a stained wall. It looks like there’s a spray of blood drops that dried ages ago.
Fuck!
“Wake up! Please,” the woman begs again.
I push through the last of the grogginess and manage to move into a sitting position.
“Thank God,” she whimpers before letting out a sob.
Turning my head in her direction, I stare for a moment before I recognize her, and all at once, the events of the ambush hits me.
Jesus Christ.
Our car being hit. Vincent cursing as he tried to regain control of the spinning vehicle. Us tossed around before being pulled from the wreckage.
“Blyadʹ,” I mutter, realizing how serious this shitty situation is.
Vincent!
My heartbeat speeds up, and I quickly glance around me, taking in every inch of the small, filthy room we seem to be locked in.
I try to remember the men who ambushed us but come up empty-handed.
I don’t know who has us.
Maybe Ivanov retaliated?
“What’s your name?” Everleigh asks. “Do you think the other guards will look for us?”
Glancing around the empty room again, I see nothing but old blood stains. There’s a sinking feeling in my stomach.
Fuck, this is bad.
“Please talk to me,” Everleigh begs, her voice trembling.
My gaze swings back to her, and I shake my head. “Alek.” My tongue flicks out to wet my dry lips. “My name is Alek.”
Everleigh’s features tighten, and I can see tears brimming in her eyes. Her outfit is ruffled, and the high heels she wore when I grabbed her are nowhere to be seen.
“How long have we been here?” I ask.
Her frightened gaze is locked on me. “A couple of hours.”
“Did you see what happened to my brother?”
“The guy driving the car?” When I nod, she shakes her head. “They put a bag over my head.”
“Blyadʹ,” I curse again. Struggling to my feet, I walk to the door and test it to see whether it’s locked. The door doesn’t budge, and I let out a sigh. “K chertu moyu zhizn'.”
“I don’t understand Russian,” Everleigh whispers, her eyes still glued to me.
“I said fuck my life.” I take a deep breath while my hand skims over the spot where my gun should be tucked behind my back.
It would be the first thing they’d take. That’s why Everleigh doesn’t have her high heels. I also notice my belt is gone. Anything that could be used as a weapon has been taken from us.
Dropping to my ass next to Everleigh, I rub a hand over my face.
“Do you know what happened?” she asks.
I let out a sigh, then explain, “We were supposed to grab Svetlana Ivanhov, but she one-upped us. My guess is her father’s behind the ambush.”
“Ambush?”
My eyes meet the innocent girl’s panicked gaze, and I wonder if she knows anything about the world I come from.
“You’re American?” I ask.
She nods. “I’m here on vacation.”
I feel a twinge of pity in my chest. “Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but you’re fucked,” I give it to her straight. There’s no time to sugarcoat our situation.