Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 109286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
“Where’s the other guy?” She’s shaking so hard with fury that she can’t stand, and she slides down the wall until she’s seated. Her voice is low and harsh. “He raped me before he handed me over to them.”
“I killed him. Broke his neck and left him behind a gas station. I should have made it more painful, now that I know that.” I climb in beside her. The hot water from the showerhead is almost cool by the time it hits our feet. When she hears that Yury is dead, she relaxes slightly and that awful, brittle look washes down the drain with the water. But my heart is breaking for her.
Gesturing toward the outer room, she asks with incredulity, “Are you really friends with him?”
“Who? Nick?”
“No, the slave trader.”
“I know him. Met him a few months ago. Knew of him longer, though.” I tell her everything. “I’ve been searching for my sister, so I got involved with some guys who make money killing bad guys.”
“Hit men?”
“Mercenaries. Hit men. I needed a way in to find Naomi. I started watching people, reaching out if I thought that they had some personal code, because I felt I might be able to trust them. Nick was one of those guys. He was very careful with the jobs he took on. He researched them, and he was very good at what he did, so I reached out to him. When you and Daisy were kidnapped, I knew it was my opportunity to do him a solid, so he’d owe me.” She’s listening to me, which I take as a good sign.
“The Petrovich Bratva is a powerful Mafia, but the head of it was running the organization into the ground. Vasily Petrovich approached me. Said that he would help us if we killed the head of it and made sure it can’t be traced back to him. Nick, Daisy, and I took care of Sergei Petrovich. Vasily gave me your information and then hinted that there’s been a long funnel of blondes from Russia to Rio. I think maybe Naomi is here, also. You know the rest of it.” I scrub my hand across my head.
“What’s he doing here, then?”
“There’s something here he wants, too.” I have my fear about what that is, but I think Regan’s had enough revelations at the time.
“I don’t want to be near him.” Defiance has replaced fear as her current emotion.
“That’s fine. I’ll take him down to the beach and figure out what he wants.”
She nods.
“Are we okay?” I ask.
There’s nothing but silence, and then her hand slips over mine. “I can’t go back.”
I rise up on my knees. “I swear on my sister’s life no more harm will come to you. Not if I have to lay waste to the entire southern seaboard to keep you safe. You will never go back.”
Regan’s lower lip trembles, but she bites back her emotion and then mirrors my pose. Her small hands creep up around my neck. “I believe you then, Daniel.”
I want to kiss her but know that would be very foolish of me to do at this moment. Instead, I squeeze one of her arms. Rising to my feet, I tell her to shower. “I’ll get you some clothes.” I tuck a towel around my waist and leave Regan to clean up.
Outside I find Vasily sitting on the sofa, a white cloth wrapped around his left hand.
“Is she okay?” He jerks his chin toward the shower. I stomp over to the packs and pull out some clothing for us.
“No thanks to you.” I hadn’t realized that Vasily was directly involved in her sale, even though I knew he had kidnapped her. He’d had to in order to sell the scheme thing to his uncle, but his ends justifies the means attitude makes me want to take the butt end of my gun and rearrange his face. Shaking it off, I head back for the bathroom. Regan is drying off, and I try hard not to watch her, but even the bathroom is too small to avoid seeing a few glimpses of her fine body. My own body reacts predictably, and the towel around my waist lifts up.
“Sorry,” I mumble.
“I’m going to take it as a compliment,” she sighs. “My outrage meter is worn out. I’m worn out.”
We dress hastily, and I ignore my growing hard-on.
Regan leads us out of the bathroom but stops short with a gasp. Vasily has stripped off his shirt and laid a belt on the bed. He’s kneeling with his hands laced behind his head.
“What are you doing?” she demands.
“Recompense.” Vasily does not turn around. He barely moves.
“He wants you to hit him with the belt,” I offer helpfully.
“He thinks that me hitting him is going to make up for selling me?” she shrieks.