Russian Tattoos Obsession (19 page)

Chapter 38

Nine Lives

When we got home, I said goodbye to Ryan and hightailed it to my room to get out of sight for a while. Before I had a chance to shut the door, Boris latched on to my shoulders. He pushed my body into the room and shut the door behind him. The Grandpa Boris façade he displayed at the game had subsided. The knuckle-busting mobster had returned. “You think I’ve forgotten about this morning?” He moved his hand down to his belt.

Oh, God.
“Where’s Vladimir?”

“He has some business to attend to. He’ll be gone for a while.” He unfastened the buckle and slid the black leather belt off his pants. “You and I need to get a few things straight about who’s in charge around here.”

My body trembled, overcome with the fear of what was about to go down. He motioned for me to sit on the bed. I hesitated, but when his jaw clenched and he looped the belt in his hand, I did what I was told. I prayed his intention was just to scare me.

“Good girl. You had a nice time as our guest? A relaxing holiday weekend?”

“Yes.”

He circled in front of me. I curled my knees up to my chest. “Your boyfriend is a nice guy. Would be shame if he got into trouble.”

My body stiffened. “Why do you say that?”

“Our friends out back planted evidence in his truck that will put him away until he’s an old man. Speak of anything that happened here and police get an anonymous tip, understand?”

I couldn’t breathe.

“Answer me.”
He shoved me down on the bed. With his buckle in hand, he pinned my forearms down and yelled in my face. “
Otvet' mne
.”

“
Da, da
,” I squealed, not sure of the question but certain of the answer.

He yanked me back to my feet and cornered me against the wall. “You belong to boss now. This evening you will show your
appreciation
for his generosity.”

Sweat trickled down my back. I could barely hold myself up.

A dirty smile crept across his face. “Anything I can do to help you get ready? Massage? Soft music? Red wine to get you in the mood?”

Feeling sick, I covered my mouth and shook my head.

His face flashed with anger. He lifted the belt. “No?”

Don’t challenge him,
Sophia said.

“No, I don’t need anything,” I whimpered.

He steered me toward the closet. “Let’s get you changed for dinner, dear.” He examined my expensive new wardrobe and selected a low-cut, honey-colored silk dress. “This one brings out the gold in your eyes.” He unbuttoned my cardigan, slid it off, and dropped it to the floor.

I panted as he unbuttoned my jeans with his belt in hand. I prayed for a miracle. No more chances. If I resisted, he would whip me into submission. He lifted my t-shirt out of my pants and slid it over my head. My hair fell into my face. Gently, he pushed it out of my eyes and flipped it back over my shoulder, leaving me exposed in my bra and jeans.

When his fingers fumbled to unhook my front closure bra, I panicked. I folded my arms across my chest and hunched my shoulders forward. “Please don’t. I’m sorry—”

“
Shush
. I’m trying to help you. Boss is angry with you. Don’t make things harder on yourself.” His tone was sincere like a father giving his daughter worldly advice. “Would you rather take it off yourself?”

I nodded, pulled all my hair forward to cover myself, and then slid off my bra. I reached for the dress, but he held it back.

“Not yet.”

He pushed down on my shoulders and sat me on the edge of the bed, placed his arm under my knees, and flipped my legs on top of the covers. He slid off my boot, unfastened the Velcro on my cast, and tossed it aside. “Vladimir hasn’t had a smile on his face in eight years. That changed the night he met you. All the money, the power that comes with his position, nothing has brought him happiness—except
you
.”

I closed my eyes to mask my terror when he sat next to me and rubbed his thick fingers across my stomach with his belt hand. “You are going to want to please boss tonight of your own free will. He deserves that much from you.” He traced the lace around the top of my underwear. “Your bullshit ends now.”

“He doesn’t want me like this.” My voice trembled. “I know he’s mad at me, but he would never order you to hurt me. This is all your sick—”

“Keep talking.” He raised the belt over his head.

Fight!

I thumped him in the chest with my fists and tried to roll off the opposite side of the bed, but he wouldn’t relinquish his grip. All I had accomplished was to make him angrier. Out of patience, he growled and shoved me off the edge of the bed. I landed with a thud flat on my back. The force of my fall knocked the wind out of me, and the throbbing pain shooting up from my ankle paralyzed me.

While I caught my breath, Boris stalked around the bed and towered over me. “I’m wise to your game, girly. Bat your pretty eyes, flaunt your little body, cry your sad tears—boss gives you anything you want. Boss leaves his home, his family, his business, and drags me with him to America to rescue you. What does he get in return? Lies, deceit, and disrespect.”

I sucked in a deep breath, rolled over on my stomach, but before I could stand, Boris held me down with his heavy boot like he was rubbing out a bug. “Want to leave? Go ahead.”

My bare skin chaffed against the carpet as I tried to squirm away. “The
pakhan
will kill you when he finds out what you’re up to.”

He removed his foot from my back, grabbed a fistful of my hair, and yanked me back to my feet. “What do you mean
when
he finds out?” His expression oozed with rage.

“I’m sorry. I won’t say anything.”

He caressed my cheek with the back of his prison-tatted hand. “Think of me as your coach, dear. I’m just getting you warmed up.”

“No!” With the last reserve of courage I had left, I dug my fingernails into his hands and tried to pry him off of me.

He flung me back onto the bed. Using one hand he pinned me down, and with the other he wrapped the belt around my wrists. “Fight me again, it goes around your neck.”

“Get off me.” I struggled to free my hands.

He twisted the skin on my torso in the same spot where I’d pinched Ryan to get his attention. “Is this how you get what you want, little tease?”

I begged him to stop, but he didn’t let up.

“I tried the easy way, but you never learn, do you?” He unzipped my jeans, and as he slid them down, his cell rang. He retrieved his phone from his pocket.

I gasped for air.

He covered my mouth.

“
Da
…
da
…she’ll be ready.” He slipped the phone back in his pocket and seemed to be contemplating the most punishing way he could kill me. “You have nine lives, pussy cat. Your papa will be here to collect you in a half hour. Your family cut their trip short to spend Christmas with you.” He lowered his hand, allowing me to breathe, and removed the belt from my wrists.

I closed my eyes and sucked in a deep breath. He yanked me to my feet, pinned me against the wall, and stuck his thick finger in my face. “Rule number one: you will act like nothing out of the ordinary happened here. Two: your work schedule will resume without interruption. Three: you will keep your bruises covered. I can make anyone disappear. You don’t want anything to happen to your beautiful little sister, right?”

I shook my head.

“I see and hear everything,
Cookie
. Breathe a word about our secrets, you put your family in the ground.”

***

Dad’s happy face tanked as Vladimir walked me to the car. At Boris’s insistence, I ditched the air cast and stuffed my swollen foot into my snow boot. With a limp in my step, dark circles under my eyes, and the fear of God on my face, the Russians returned me to my family. To an outsider, it would have looked like a P.O.W. exchange.

“What happened to you?” Dad stole me away from his boss.

“She didn’t tell you?” Vladimir asked.

“Tell me what?”

I looked my dad in the eye and delivered my rehearsed response. “I got the flu. I’ve been so sick the last couple days.”

“Oh, sweetie. I wish you’d told me. I would’ve come home sooner.”

“I didn’t want to ruin your trip. Mr. Ivanov has been so sweet. He brought a doctor to the house and made sure I got plenty of liquids and saltines. I think the worst of it is over.” I forced a smile. “Thank you for everything, Mr. Ivanov.”

“Anything for you, Miss Cook.”

“You’re shaking. Let’s get you out of the cold. Sorry to put you through this, Vladimir. I appreciate it.”

My stomach churned.

Vladimir shot his icy blue gaze down on me. “My pleasure, Ricky. Your daughter is an angel.”

Chapter 39

Brave Or Stupid

On my first day back to work after D-Day, I crafted a plan in my head and just had to summon the courage to go through with it. When I met Boris at our pickup spot, I got into the Caddy like it was any other day.

“Good to see you. We missed you. How was your Christmas?”

“Cut the bullshit,” I said.

He cocked his head, stunned by my disrespectful tone.

“I know you’ll hurt the people I love if I don’t do what you say. You win.”

“Are you wearing a wire?”

“No. This is between you and me.”

It was clear in his face, in his posture that he was unsure of the purpose of my declaration. I handed him a plain white envelope. He slid on his reading glasses and lifted out the paper inside—the rental agreement for our apartment. I had worked so hard, scrimped, saved, and sacrificed to finally bust down the door to adulthood, and there was no way I would let the Russians hijack my freedom.

He stuck the letter back in the envelope. “Congratulations.”

“
Spasibo.
I have a problem, though. You get what you want from me, but what do I get in return?”

He seemed intrigued by my strength. After being away for two days—Dad wouldn’t let me leave the house any sooner—I had color back in my face, the bags under my eyes were fading, and I had wolfed down protein bars to gain some weight back. Over the last few weeks the Russians had cranked me through the sausage grinder, but they failed to break me.

“Continue.” The car was still in park.

“If I do what you say, everything is good. My friends and family stay safe, right?”

He glared at me and waited for me to continue.

“But statistically speaking, I screw up a lot. Then what? The next time I make a mistake, you’ll kill my family? Game over? That doesn’t work for me. I have no chance to win. I can only lose.”

Boris tapped his fingers on his leg. “I’m a reasonable man, Carter. What do you want? Money? Car?”

“An exit strategy. Is it true Vladimir is going back to Russia soon?”

“You heard this from your papa?”

I nodded.

“
Da
.”

“Perfect. Here’s the deal. I’ll play along with this sick game. I’ll be nice, wear beautiful clothes, and be a delightful young plaything. We’ll reset the game clock and go back to the way it was before Christmas.”

He rubbed his chin. “That’s right.” He put his hand on the shifter to put the car in reverse.

I wrapped my hand around his and stopped him from pulling his hand back. “In return, I want to walk free from this deal when the boss goes home. I’ve finally done something right,” I pointed to the rental agreement, “and I am not going to mess it up this time. The boss can have me while he’s here, my family and friends remain safe, and for my
participation
we part ways for good when his business here is over.”

When I dreamed up this plan, this was the moment I envisioned Boris would lean over and choke me to death, but actually, he seemed impressed he hadn’t extinguished my fire.

“I like it. That’s a nice deal. Good girl.”

I stared at his hand, waiting for him to pull back the shifter.

The weasel alarm sounded.

He tapped his rings on the steering wheel. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

He turned off the car and set the keys on the dash. “We’re not going to get any more unexpected visits from your boyfriend?”

“I broke up with him. Will you please undo whatever you did to his truck?”

“You are
willingly
going to spend time with the boss?”

I hesitated for a split second.

“What are you up to, weasel?”

“Nothing.”

“Dear, I’ll cut you a break because you are so young, but you do know what
part
of the body controls man’s mind?”

I nodded.

“And you know men don’t like to be teased
by curious little blondes?”

I nodded again.

“And if you try to pull your bullshit—”

“I got it. Please don’t hurt my family. I know what you expect me to do but—”

“
But
?”

“I have one condition.”

No more Mr. Nice Negotiator Guy. “Say that again?”

“I will be a fantastic girlfriend, curl up on the couch, drink, hug, and even make out with him if I have to, but I will not let him rob my virginity. And if you try to pull anything on me like you did on Christmas Eve, you will have your way with my cold, dead body.”

He blinked his eyes like he was about to short circuit. “You’re giving
me
orders?”

“No. No way. Remember, you’ve already won. I’m here against my will. I know what you’re capable of. I surrender.” I raised my hands to drive the point home.

He leaned back in his seat, possibly turned on by my flattery.

“What I’m proposing is a different matter altogether. Ask yourself, which Carter do you want? The fun to be around Carter before Christmas? The happy, competitive, slightly problematic college girl? Or do you want the bruised and battered Corpse Bride you turned me into over the weekend?”

I took my jacket off to remind him of the damage inflicted on me during our Holiday Adventure. “It can’t continue like this. My dad cornered me about my
condition
. He bought two at-home drug tests from the pharmacy. He made me pee into a cup to check for illegal substances. When that theory didn’t pan out, he became convinced I have an eating disorder. He threatened to check me into a mental hospital.”

Boris’s gaze drifted to my battered arms.

“You think this is bad?” I lifted up the bottom of my shirt to show him the damage he left on my gut. “That’s nothing. You should see your boot print on my back.” I took a deep breath. “Someone will eventually figure out something is wrong. What if Dad finds out? Then what?”

I was right, and he knew it. He stroked his beard.

“Vladimir would
never
force me to be with him. Don’t you think he’ll be happy with the pleasure of my company without going all the way?”

“
Nyet
.”

“I think he’d be crushed to see me walking around his house like an alley cat maxed out on her ninth life. Everything will be fine as long as—”

“As long as what?”

Tell him
, Sophia said.

“As long as he doesn’t drink too much.”

“You’re a brave girl, Carter.” He let out an exacerbated sigh. “Brave or stupid. I’ll see what I can do to
remedy
the situation.” He lifted the keys off the dash and started the car.

I know it was sick, but I was giddy Boris hadn’t hog-tied me and dumped me facedown in the trunk of the Caddy. If all I had to do was hang out with Vladimir, talk, eat, drink, and have fun, knowing it would end when he went home—I could live with that.

Just like old times, Boris turned on the Russian music, and I ate my almonds, trying to suppress a winner’s grin.