Prisoner (Russian Tattoos Book 2) (21 page)

Chapter 30

Consumed

When we arrived in Ekaterinburg, there was a limo waiting for us. Vladimir was a celebrity in his hometown, and if anyone saw us, our lie would be exposed. I worried his family would flip when Vladimir strolled into the house, but Boris briefed us on the plane and said he had told his family the truth about Vladimir’s “death” and our plan to move to Canada with our new identities.

Even though I had nothing to do with the decision, their family would blame me. From the moment Vladimir’s heart stopped beating, they had rejected me. They might be upset with Vladimir for causing all the drama and for stressing out Babushka to the point of having heart problems, but they loved him and he would be forgiven. But there was no scenario in which I would escape The Wrath of Anya.

When we got to the house, Vladimir and Boris went straight to Babushka’s bedroom, and I was told to wait in the living room with Pasha. My eyes welled with tears when I caught a glimpse of his tortured face. His eyes were bloodshot and his skin pale. He’d been through hell the past few days too. It probably pissed him off that I had the nerve to show my face in their house. It was Vladimir’s choice to go through with the plan, but I was the reason behind it.

“I’m so sorry, Pasha.” I ran up to him and gave him a big hug. “Please don’t hate me.”

He wrapped his arms around me and kissed the top of my head. “You’re my sister, Carter. I could never hate you. No one blames you for this.” He patted my back as tears streamed down my cheeks.

“I blame her.” Anya yanked me away from Pasha. “You stole my son away from me, and Babushka could die because of you, filthy little
shlyukha
.” She raised her hand to smack me, but Pasha blocked her. “Out of my way!”

“Mama, no.” He stood between us so she couldn’t get her hands on me, which only pissed her off more. Since she couldn’t reach me, she took her anger out on Pasha. She yelled at him in Russian, prompting him to slide off his belt and hand it to her. Then he took off his shirt and assumed the beat-down position.

No fucking way.

With her dark eyes fueled with rage, Anya whipped him across his back. A red welt raised on his skin as she belted him over and over. He just stood there and took it, unwilling to defend himself against his mama.

“Stop it! Get off him, Anya.” No way would I stand there and do nothing as she beat the hell out of her son—
because of me
. I came up behind her and grabbed her arm so I could wrestle the belt out of her hand. She was bigger and stronger than I was, and I was unstable in my stilettos, but I grabbed hold of her arm, leaned back, and used my body weight to try to bring her down. Forcing her to surrender that belt was about as doable as snatching a fresh salmon from the claws of a grizzly bear.

“Get your hands off me.” Anya flung her arm and pushed me. I was off kilter and unstable in my heels, causing me to stumble backward. I tried to keep myself upright, but it was a losing battle. I lost my footing, fell on my back, and crashed into the hard edge of the coffee table. My ribcage cracked on impact, and a burning sensation spread across my chest. I groaned in agony and slumped to the ground in a heap.

“Carter!” Pasha dropped to his knees and clutched my shoulders.

My lungs wouldn’t inflate. I gasped and coughed, spraying droplets of blood as I struggled to breathe. A sharp pain in my chest ached as if I had been hacked in the back with an axe. I tried to speak but no words would come out. Unable to breathe, my vision blurred and my body collapsed.

Anya cried for help and yelled for Boris to get the doctor. Vladimir rushed to my side and said my name over and over and over. Barely conscious, I heard him barking orders to his family and yelling for me to hold on. “Promise you won’t leave me, Carter.” He held my hand, stroked my cheeks, and told me he loved me.

I wished I could tell him I loved him one last time, but my consciousness drifted away. A gray fog held a smoky cloud over my nose and mouth and smothered me, robbing me of air until my last breath escaped my lips. Darkness shrouded my body in a cold mist that drifted me farther and farther away until a black tunnel consumed me and all the light faded into darkness. I no longer felt pain or remorse. I had no regrets, no secrets, no desires. All I felt was—nothing.

***

“The back yard has enough room for the dogs to run and plenty of land for a garden. We’ll plant the tomato and pepper plants in a sunny spot and find shade in the back for the cabbages, eggplants, and cucumbers. I’ll set up chicken wire to keep out the rabbits and a scarecrow to chase the crows away from the cherry tree…”

I opened my eyes and focused on a big white monitor next to the bed. It was beeping and flashing numbers and zig-zagging lines across the screen. Vladimir sat beside me and held my hand as he flipped through a stack of photographs that were scattered across the bedside table. He glanced over at me and smiled when he noticed I was watching him.

“
Privet
, angel.” He squeezed my hand. “I’m here. You’re safe.”

My throat felt like I had swallowed a rusty knife laced with coarsely ground sea salt. “What happened?”

“You’re in the hospital. You took a fall and broke your ribcage. Your right lung collapsed and you lost consciousness. You’re going to be fine now.” Before I could ask another question, he turned his head toward the door and yelled for a doctor.

A moment later, a man in a white coat entered my room and checked my vitals. The bed hummed and lifted my body to an upright position.

“The doctor is going to listen to your lungs,” Vladimir said.

My chest throbbed with pain when he pushed me forward. He unfastened the snaps on my hospital gown and pressed his ice cold stethoscope against my back. He instructed me to inhale deeply and then to breathe normally. With each small breath, a paralyzing pain swelled in my chest.

When the doctor finished his examination, he shook his head and spoke to Vladimir in Russian. Vladimir argued, causing the doctor to hold up his hands in defeat and leave the room.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He faked a smile. “The doctor is pleased with your progress. He’s discharging you so that you may recover at home.”

Considering the extent of my injuries and the incredible amount of pain I was experiencing, I didn’t believe the doctor was delivering any amount of good news after my exam. “Now? Isn’t that a little soon? I’m in a lot of pain.”

“You’ll have around the clock care.”

“Wait. I’m not going back to your place. Anya’s there.” I tried to sit up, terrified at the thought of facing off with Vladimir’s evil godmother again.

“Easy, sweetheart.” With a soft touch he guided my head back down to the pillow. “You have nothing to fear. I have arranged for us to be in a secure location—away from my family.” He kissed my cheek, stepped out of the room, and came back with a wheelchair. He eased me out of bed, grabbed a clear bag of medical supplies the doctor provided, and rolled me toward the back exit.

An SUV was waiting outside, and Vladimir loaded me into the passenger seat.

“Where are you taking me?” Everything was happening so fast, I panicked from all the activity. With every breath, a stabbing pain pounded on my back and shot through my nervous system.

“I’m going to take care of you. As soon as you are well enough to fly, we’ll be on our way. Hang tight, sweetheart, our forever is just on pause while your body heals.”

I knew he was lying because nothing he said made sense, but I was powerless to do anything about it. “Vladimir, I’m scared. What aren’t you telling me?”

“Trust me, Carter. Everything I do is for you—for
us
.”

Chapter 31

Mother Russia

We drove on the highway for hours, then took a rural route that turned into back country roads that wound around a mountain. Vladimir rolled down the windows, inviting fresh air and the scent and sounds of late spring into the Rover. The trees had their leaves, and purple and yellow wildflowers graced the hillside. The air was damp and smelled of wet grass and moss.

Little birds swooped down on bigger predatory birds with massive wingspans. Even though the birds were much smaller, they defended their turfs and protected their hatchlings from the big guys who wanted to turn them into lunch. Squirrels with pointy tufted ears darted here and there, and vultures pecked at roadkill rotting on the side of the road. I drifted in and out of consciousness along the way and I was in so much pain it hurt to breathe.

Holding a conversation was a struggle, so Vladimir turned on the radio and we listened to orchestral music to lighten the mood. I trusted my husband, but the fact that he had been at the hospital meant his resurrection from the dead was public knowledge. Maksim had to be on the warpath and we were in grave danger.

The bumpy road was torturous on my broken body and I wailed from the pain. Vladimir pulled over, took off his shirt, and wrapped it around my ribcage to serve as a brace. He riffled through a black bag filled with medical supplies and popped a round of pills into my mouth to relieve the pain. He pushed my seat up as far as it would go and I rested my head on the dashboard. After a while, the drugs began to take effect and made the pain somewhat bearable.

***

Vladimir caressed my shoulder to wake me up when we reached our destination, a tiny farmhouse nestled in the woods. The painkillers kept me comfortably numb and I wasn’t fully alert when Vladimir helped me out of the car and guided me inside. Our safe house was small with eclectic furnishings like the dacha, but it smelled musty and damp like it hadn’t been lived in for ages. The curtains were covered in soot, the floor was caked with mud, and weeds cropped up from the floorboards.

Vladimir would never bring me here unless our situation had reached the point of no return. He had dragged me off to this godforsaken place because we were running for our lives. He situated me on a filthy, dilapidated couch and went back outside.

He returned with loads of food and water, blankets, cleaning supplies, and a bunch of outdoorsy stuff one would take on a camping trip. We had everything we needed to survive in the wilderness. Vladimir even packed my suitcase and carry-on bag with my racquet and a can of balls. With all we had to worry about, having a physical connection to my past gave me hope and a reason to stay whole. The Silver Bullet was
just
a tennis racquet, but it had been a part of my life for years, and I was grateful to have it with me.

Once he unloaded the truck, he sat beside me and laid the back of his hand across my forehead to check my temperature. “How’s my brave girl?”

“Does Maksim know we’re here? Is your family still mad at me?”

“All you need to do is concentrate on healing your body, then we’re getting out of Russia forever.” He kissed my cheek and left me to start a fire in the hearth. “I’m going to warm some soup and make you a hot cup of herbal tea with honey. It’s a family recipe guaranteed to help you get your strength back.”

The fire crackled and warmed the chilly air. Vladimir placed a black kettle over the flame. He wiped the grime off a small wooden table and set out dishes and a loaf of fresh bread and a crock of butter. While he prepared the food he asked, “When was the date of your last menstrual cycle?”

That came out of nowhere. “I don’t know.”

“Think. Have you been on your period since you’ve been in Russia?”

What the hell?
Did he think I had lied about my status as his virgin bride? “I was on when your
sovietnik
picked me up from the airport. He didn’t write that down in his report?”

“One day before your trip? Two days, three days?”

Jeez.
“Three days before I left for the airport.”

Vladimir lifted his eyes and appeared to be doing a quick round of mental math. “You’re late. You should’ve started by now.”

***

A week or so had gone by and Vladimir had done wonders with our new digs. He had washed the curtains, dried them on the clothesline strung across the yard, and hung them back up. He cleaned all the filth off the windows and walls, and filled in the missing floorboards with planks that he pulled from the woodshed out back.

Every morning he picked an assortment of wildflowers, stuck them in water glasses, and placed them around the room to add some color to our otherwise dreary abode. Our little hideaway wasn’t grand and opulent like we had become accustomed to, but it was our first home as husband and wife, and Vladimir did all he could to make it cozy.

I was still in a lot of pain, but I made myself get up a few times a day and go outside to get some fresh air. Vladimir accompanied me on my leisurely strolls and it had become a ritual we cherished. It was our time to let go of all of our anxiety and enjoy the sunshine. The time we carved out to be a happily married couple, not the fugitives running for their lives. We talked about our future and all the positive things that waited for us on the horizon.

I was worried about our families, Mari and Ruslana in particular. I was so unkind to them at Vladimir’s funeral, it made me sick to think about how harsh I’d been when they were grieving too. Vladimir assured me Dmitri would take care of them and keep them safe. He loved the girls dearly, and if it were at all possible, he wanted to adopt them when we got to Canada. Although I adored the girls too, I was not on board with bringing them back into our lives. I believed the best thing for them was to go to America with Dmitri and live a life without being associated with a marked man hiding from the Russian mafia.

“Have you started your period yet?”

I laughed. “Again with that? I can’t be pregnant. We only did it a couple times.”

“Once is all it takes.”

“The trauma could’ve thrown off my cycle. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

He held up a pregnancy test. “It would ease my mind.”

“Just happened to have that handy?”

“I’m always prepared.”

Arguing with him wouldn’t do me any good. “I could use a trip to the bathroom anyway.”

By “bathroom” I meant a private spot behind a tree. There was a primitive outhouse with a toilet carved from wood, but when I’d tried to use it the first time, I retched from the odor and never went back. The woods became my Plan B.

Vladimir was quiet as he guided me to the tree line. When we got there, I relieved myself and activated the test. Vladimir took the white plastic test from me, checked his watch, and waited for the results. One line appeared after a few seconds but it would take longer for the second line to appear if I were, in fact, pregnant—which I was ninety-nine percent certain I was not.

After about a minute I touched Vladimir’s arm when the second pink line never came. “It’s a good thing for now. We have our whole lives in front of us. I’m probably late because—”

My eyes widened in horror as a second pink line appeared. Vladimir’s hand trembled as he stared at the evidence that we were going to have a baby. “There is no way this is accurate. How long was I in the hospital? It’s too soon to show up on a test.”

“You’re ten days late. It’s accurate. We’re going to have a baby.”

“But I thought you couldn’t father a child.”

“Why on earth would you think that?” He glared at me and blinked as if I’d knocked him over the head with a blunt object. “It doesn’t matter, sweetheart.” He hugged me gently and his tears of joy wet my cheek. “It’s a boy.”

“A pregnancy test can’t determine the sex of the baby.”

“I feel it. We’re going to have a son.”

All-knowing Vladimir may have been ecstatic about bringing a child into the world, but I was terrified. The
Bratva
was hunting us down, intent on murdering him and inflicting unholy horrors on me. From a health perspective, Mother Russia had not been kind to me. I had been seriously injured more than once, and the doctors had undoubtedly pumped drugs into my veins while I was in the hospital. My body and mind had been traumatized, and I wasn’t in good health when the baby was conceived…

“Say something, Carter.”

I shook my head. “We don’t know if the baby is okay. Don’t be happy yet.”

“Don’t think like that. Our baby is growing inside you. You must be strong and think positive. He needs you, Mama. Love him while his body develops. Don’t give up on him before he even has a chance.”

I lowered my head and tears dripped down my cheeks. Our baby had only recently been conceived, and already I was a horrible mother. I pressed my hand against my stomach. “I’m sorry, baby.”

“He loves you, Carter. With a mama like you, he’s going to be a fighter. I have no doubts our baby is going to grow up healthy and perfect.” His eyes were shining and his expression was joyful, but also stoic. He had to be under an incredible amount of stress. Not only did he have the burden of keeping us both alive, but also the responsibility of protecting our unborn child.

“Can we go to the airport now? If it’s only a matter of pain, I can deal with it. We need to make a break for it.”

“Maksim will have spotters at all the airports from here to China. We’ll have to travel by car to a private airport off the map. The journey will take five days, at least. Your body needs time to recover so you don’t reinjure your lung. Don’t dismiss the severity of your injury. I can’t drag you around Russia in your fragile condition.”

“I’ll be fine.” 

“A month or two should be enough time for your body to heal. We’ll be safe here, and maybe by then Maksim will think we slipped out and give up the chase. The locals are indigenous people and have no idea who I am.”

I felt an impending sense of dread, but I told him I loved him and trusted him completely. Worrying, arguing, or breaking down wouldn’t help our cause. Every decision I made affected the health of our baby, and he needed me to be strong.

We ate lunch inside at a tiny table for two. I nourished my body with hot soup loaded with nutritious beans and vegetables and drank three cups of herbal tea. While Vladimir cleaned up, I asked him for some paper and a pen. I wanted to write down our story for our child. If we made it out of Russia alive, I wanted him to know every measure we took to keep him safe from the monsters who were trying to destroy our family.

If we didn’t live through this ordeal, then I hoped someone would find my journal and learn from our deadly mistakes. The cycle of violence and criminal activity in Vladimir’s bloodline had to end with him. Our child could never repeat the sins of his father.