Unwanted Sacrifices (Russkaya Mafiya Book 3) (16 page)

BOOK: Unwanted Sacrifices (Russkaya Mafiya Book 3)
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There’s no such thing as perfect. I could eat right and spend countless hours in the gym and I would never achieve perfection. Who wants perfect anyhow? Perfect is boring. All these men involved need to be taught their own type of lesson. Too bad I’m on my own mission or I would be interested in taking on an extracurricular project like that.

Climbing out of my truck, I decide to leave my black leather gloves behind. I usually like to hide any type of evidence that could lead back to me but I want to feel his blood on my hands too badly.

“Niko.” I’m greeted immediately.

“Lexi. You spoke to your Boss?”

“Yes. He said you’re welcome to his tools, but you are to leave the prisoner alive for future questioning. He also wanted me to inform you that you’re welcome to finish him after the Boss collects more information.”

“Now
that
is perfect,” I utter and Alexei stares at me confused. “I was just thinking about it on my way here.”

He nods and knocks on the thick metal door.

“Yeah?” is called and Alexei rambles off a sequence of random Russian words. After a moment the door screeches open and I’m met with two men loaded with AK-47’s ready to do damage if necessary.

“Alexei?” they question.

“Da, Nikoli.” He nods over at me and the men move away.

Once I’m inside, the heavy door closes and locks, leaving Alexei outside to stand guard. I’m finally faced with the pathetic creature that tormented my sister, putting her through torture and sadness. You ever want to slice someone open and then bathe in their blood? That’s me, right now.

He yells something but with the gag on, his words are too muffled to understand.

“Oh you wish to talk?” I mock and he yells rubbish again. “It must be horrible to be kept somewhere, like a prisoner with no voice. I won’t speak in circles like Viktor or Tatkiv; I’ll let you know exactly why I want you here. The Boss’ reasons are separate though, so rejoice in knowing you have much suffering ahead.”

Untying the gag, I remove the material so the ‘canary has a chance to sing.’

“So, they send the dog to gather their information?” he angrily spits.

My hand connects with his cheek in an automatic response of his disrespect. He coughs and spits. No doubt I just busted the inside of his cheek open.

Making my way over to the long surgical table Viktor has set up, I’m pleased to find he’s left behind a variety of specialty tools he likes to use. He’s one creative fucker when it comes to his signatures. He’s not like most Bosses pawning the work off; he likes to do the torture himself.

I discover one of his favorites—the mini torch—and chuckle. This could work nicely and quickly. I tend to get overheated easily when I fuck with someone, so I lose my shirt, stretching my muscles in preparation to dole out punishment.

With the torch and lighter in hand, I approach Chek with a giddy smile.

“A-a General?” he stutters taking in my markings.

“Oh, you thought I was a mutt, yes? I am the right hand to the Mafiya, you fool.”

“Please for-forgive me, I wasn’t aware. I can get you a woman as well, whatever you wish, just name it, and I’ll get you one also.”

“A woman?” I growl angrily.

“Yes, that’s why you’ve taken me, is it not? I never offered you a woman and was disrespectful.”

“Fuck, for being a man as warped and wealthy as you are, you really don’t get it, do you?”

“Excuse me, but what am I missing?”

“You
took
my woman!” It spills out in a furious roar and he blanches.

“Impossible,” he mumbles and instead of igniting the torch, I take the bottle and slam it into his knee cap.

“Aghhhhhhh! Nyet!” His face bunches in pain.

“Do you work with a man by the name of Kolya Minski?”

“Nyet.” He pants and I slam the bottle down on his other knee cap. He screams out again and I break a sweat, my anger boiling up inside ready to explode.

“Then let’s talk about my say straa and we’ll come back to my woman.”

“Say straa?” he gasps and I nod. I think the severity of my hatred is finally starting to sink in.

“Da, Vishna, blonde, eyes like ice, very thin; take a good look and you will see resemblance.”

He shakes his head, looking away.

“Nyet, you do not get to forget her. My family was taken and I find my last sister in a shipment—sold. Tell me her buyer.”

“I-I don’t know the buyers for the containers; only the Master knows.”

“Who is this Master?”

“I’m not allowed to know his name. No one knows his name.”

“Bullshit! Someone has it and I will get it.”

“I’ve worked for him for many, many years and never found it.”

“And Kolya?”

“He has helped us with moving the women, but he stays out of the rest.”

“Where is he?”

“The last I heard, he was going to have a meeting with the master. I have heard nothing since.”

“Well, the fact remains that you put your hands on my baby sister.”

“They don’t come to me as babies, only as women,” he utters and it makes me nauseous that he thinks he can justify his actions by age.

“She was a baby the last time I fucking saw her, you idiot! She will always be that way to me, and I will take my vengeance, you wait. Your journey is not complete. After the Bosses are finished with you, you’re mine.” I slam the bottle down repeatedly, this time crunching it against his shoulder, until I’m sure the bones inside are in pieces.

“Aghhhh my arm!” He sobs but I don’t feel an ounce of sympathy for him.

“That’s for touching her! I will cut each finger from your body for laying your hands where they do not belong! Everything has a consequence!”

“Please, please…please,” he whimpers and I laugh loudly.

“Not so fun when you are the one in pain, is it? Now tell me where Sabrina Cheskolav is.”

“She is Sabrina Minski,” he mumbles, his eyes growing wide as he realizes he spoke it aloud.

“What did you just say?”

“Nothing…I said nothing.”

I charge him, his chair falling over as I straddle him, wrapping my hands around his neck, I slam his head into the ground, choking him and screaming, “She is no fucking Minski! She is Miiiiine!”

In the heat of it, I don’t feel arms wrap around my chest as I work to squeeze the life out of Chek, but then suddenly I’m being pulled away in my fit of rage, noticing Chek’s face an ugly blueish color.

“Nikoli! Nikoli! Niko, snap out of it! Fuck, someone make sure that guy’s not dead over there!”

I get shaken enough to jostle me out of my darkness to see Alexei’s face in front of me.

“Niko? You with me? Niko?”

“Da, I am here.” Blinking and drawing in a few deep breaths, the room and the people all come back to me. It was like I had tunnel vision and the only thing I could see was Chek and the need to kill him.

“I’ve never seen you lose it like that; you need to get some sleep and get your shit straight.”

“I don’t need sleep; I need my fucking woman.” I shake his hands off my shoulders and head to the bathroom.

Slamming through the restroom door and flipping on the cold water, I splash the cool drops over my face and chest to get my body to calm down.

He said her name, I know I heard it…only she’s no goddamn Minski.

SABRINA

I’m feeling so much
better thanks to the new man that’s been helping me. He found an IV and gave me two bags of saline to help hydrate me, and then he came back with a shot that he said was antibiotics for my throat.

Now I can actually swallow without feeling like nails are raking over the inside of my mouth. I’ve gotten more water over the past two days than I have the entire time I’ve been stuck here. Today I’m supposed to start eating food again. I can’t remember the last time I actually ate anything; it’s amazing my body has gotten me this far without completely shutting down.

The disgusting thing though, I have to pee on the floor. It’s better than peeing on me with what little I have and then being hosed off like before. The creators of this place are despicable; thinking the drain in the middle of the floor will let them just wash away everything. I can’t help but wonder how many other women there are, and how many have already died from such cruel treatment.

The door opens, the extra light filtering in as the friendly guy comes in. We’ve barely talked, keeping everything clinical, but I will never forget his generosity in helping me get better.

“Hey little one,” he says quietly and shuts the door behind him. “Unfortunately there isn’t much for food selection in this place. I found some crackers, bread, and dried cereal. You’d think birds were living here.” He stops in front of me, squatting down so we’re eye level. Today he’s got on another plain black long sleeve shirt and black cargo pants to match his boots.

“Thank you; anything is better than nothing.” I try to smile but my lips are still too sore. It’s an amazing feeling just to be able to speak again.

“Ouch, your mouth still looks bad. Keep putting the Vaseline on that I gave you. That and lots of water should get them back to feeling better soon.”

“Okay, thank you.”

“You keep saying it, but you don’t have to thank me for every little thing.”

“Yes, I do. Mr. Chek requires it,” I mumble and his eyes flash with realization.

“Then you keep doing what is expected, and I’ll do what I can to make things a little easier on you, okay?”

“All right.”

“I noticed you looking like it hurt each time you moved your back, is it just sore from the floor?”

Cringing as I think about it, my back involuntarily twitches and causes a sharp strike of pain to flash over me. “No. I-I have a cut.”

“Can I check it out?” he asks and hands me a few slices of bread. I nod, tearing a piece off so it won’t touch my lips. Chewing will hurt them enough.

He walks around me and instantly I hear him draw in a deep breath like he’s surprised.

After a few moments he clears his throat then speaks quietly, “I’ll see if I can find some ointment.”

“Is it bad?”

“To be honest…yes. I’m sure some of your weakness is from the blood you’ve lost. I’ll be back.”

I don’t reply, just concentrate on chewing small bites of food at a time. I don’t want to eat too quickly. I’ve read that if I eat too fast I can get sick and puke it all back up. The last thing I want to do is waste what little food I have to give my body.

After what I’d say is ten minutes or so, the man comes back with a first aid kit and a new syringe.

“A shot?” I peer towards his hands once he’s close to me.

“Yes, I brought you another dose of antibiotics. I wasn’t aware of your back and we need to get enough in your system to fight everything off. There’s really no telling what kind of infections you have going on. Did any of them touch you elsewhere?”

I know what he’s insinuating and captor or not, I’m not speaking about my sexual experiences with him. “Are you a doctor or something?” His forehead scrunches and it reminds me of what happened the last time I requested information from Chek, “Oh wait! Sorry…I’m not supposed to ask questions. I know better.”

“It’s okay. With me, you don’t have to worry about those rules. I’m not a doctor; I’ve just learned a few things here and there. I’m going to give you the shot and fix up your back now.”

“All right.”

He walks around me, poking me in my arm with the shot and inserts the burning medicine inside. I’m sure a doctor wouldn’t do it like that, but he’s helping me, so no complaining from me.

I hear him twist the cap off the bottled water he brought in, and then feel the coolness run down my back. It’s refreshing, but when he gently pats me dry, it hurts so bad I want to cry. I hold strong, trying to be brave so he knows I’m thankful for his efforts. He sprays something cold on that stings and then quickly covers it with a bandage.

“There. I put the ointment on the gauze so I wouldn’t have to touch you and it should help keep it from sticking.” He crumples up his trash and comes to sit in front of me.

“Okay.”

“Try not to lie on it; let it do some healing. You need stitches, but I can’t do that; I’m sorry. Once the ointment has a chance to work and clean it out, I’ll try some superglue.”

“I’m happy with anything. You’ve helped me more than anyone.”

“I wish I could do more.” He shakes his head, dejected.

“What’s your name?” I whisper, finally getting up enough nerve to ask.

“My name?” He looks at me puzzled and I shake my head. His face is scruffy from missing a few shaves and goes well with his dark hair. He’s not buff, but looks like he most likely has corded, lean muscles underneath his fitted shirt. God, he reminds me of someone, but I just can’t place it.

“It’s Beau.”

“Beau.” I repeat and he nods. “I like it. Mine’s Sabrina.” He nods again, like he knows.

Shit.
He’s here with my captor; of course he already knows my name and everything about me. I wonder if this is part of the process. Chek puts me through hell, and then I meet this dark angel who makes me well again only for Chek to come torture me all over again.

“This is part of the game, isn’t it?”

“No little one, I swear to you, I’m not a part of this.” He rasps sincerely and I believe him. If he’s not with them, then who the fuck is he?

 

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