Dominic’s still trying to chase the van up the road before he stops. “Fuuuccckkk!” he roars as he drops to his knees and pulls on his hair.
Walking up to him, I grab his collar and punch him square in the jaw. I get on top of him, and let loose, blow after blow. The next thing I feel is someone, no there’s more than one lifting me off him. Looking beside me I see it’s my brothers. It took all of them to lift me off, but Zane pushes me back.
“Stop brother. Stop.”
I shake my head. “Fuck no! Stop? What the fuck are you talking about? Stop!” I’m about to reign in on Dominic again, only to be pulled back.
I walk up to Zane, eye to eye. “Brother, I love you, but if you don’t get the fuck out of my goddamn way, I will happily go through you to get to him, without hesitation.”
He pushes me back. “I know you’re fucking hurt, I’ve been there! But this is not the way around it.”
My heaving dies down and I look down to Dominic. “This is not fucking over.”
Vicky comes running over to us screaming with tears pouring down her face and make-up smudged. “ZANE! Alaina, Alaina, they took her. They fucking took her, too.” Vicky’s face is bleeding. Her white wedding gown has blood all down the front. I look to Zane and watch as his absolute psychopathic mood kicks in.
“I’m so sorry, Zane. I tried...I attempted to kick one of them and I think I got him, but then he punched me in the face and took her.”
Zane begins walking in circles, pulling at his hair before he lets out an almighty roar. “Fuuuccckkk!”
The whole world starts to close in and panic sets in. I feel lethal, absolutely Jason X lethal. I want to rip my fucking heart out just to stop it from hurting. Physical pain I can take, but this shit? This shit is fucking excruciating. It’s why I turned off my humanity so many years ago. It’s why I never wanted to have someone this close to me. I’d fucking wipe out the entire human race just to have my girl back in my arms again. I’m paralyzed. I can’t even move my legs. They’re mounted to this pavement. I look to Zane, who’s looking at me with an equally ruthless stare.
“We raise hell, brother,” I say calmly.
We’re all sitting around the table in the bar back at the clubhouse, and when I look up at Zane, we share the exact same look. It’s the look of loss mixed with psycho.
“We don’t need a plan. The only plan we need is death,” I state.
Zane looks to me with a deadpan look. He usually has all the brains, he’s smart and likes to do things cleanly.
“Done,” he replies in a deathly shallow tone. Blake sits forward on his elbows.
“Our enemy list has gotten mighty long over the past two years.”
I shake my head and rub my hands over my face. “This is deeper than that. This is Bruce Peyton, and if it is we need to get moving a lot fucking quicker than usual.”
Zane nods his head. “We go on lockdown. Families are to come in, now.”
Everyone stands from their seats and begin making their way out, leaving Zane, Blake, Ollie, Chad, and me in the room. Ollie and Chad have been pulled in a little tighter with us over the past couple years. We are a brotherhood, but there are still ranks.
I exhale, throwing off my cap and pulling at my hair. “Fuck, I can’t help but think this is my entire fucking fault.”
Zane sits forward. “Don’t do that, brother. Don’t you fucking do that? Bring out ‘The Executioner.’ Use that rage one last time.”
“No offense Z, but you’re handling this a lot better than I am.”
Zane sits back in his seat, his eyes look lost and disconnected. “On the outside it might appear that way. But on the inside…I feel like all my organs have been ripped out. I promised her, Ade. I fucking promised her when I got her back the last time that I’d never let anyone ever come near her again. I’ve fucking disappointed her, and if I think too much into that, I will shut down so bad that I will be useless in getting her back. I’m putting all my energy into getting her back. That’s why it may look like I’m handling it better, and that’s why I am president.”
His eyes are glassed over in pain, but I’ve known him long enough to see when he’s hurting more than what he is used to, and this is one of those times. I nod and cock my head backward, leaning into my seat.
I look over to Blake and see him nod his head. “Needs to be done, brother.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Done.”
Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I dial the only man that will ever be able to locate the girls.
“Drago makes the panties drop low. What’s up.”
I shake my head. “Not in the mood. We need your help.”
After explaining the minor details over the phone, we jump on our bikes and ride out to Drago’s office, which is his home. He’s everything you’d expect in a nerd, but he has been working with us since Zane took over. He went to school with us, and we would always beat up the bullies who picked on him. Since then, he always felt like he owed us. He’s a fucking good little dude. We pull up to his long driveway where he lives in a cabin in the middle of the woods. Turning off our bikes and making our way up the front steps, he swings opens his door. And under those glasses, he looks worried. He loves Alaina. Let’s face it everyone loves the bossy bitch.
“I’m so sorry,” he says looking at both Zane and me.
Nodding I make my way into his house, heading straight for his office. Opening the double doors I see nothing has changed since the last time I was here. It’s about the same size as Phoebe’s garage—Phoebe has a fucking garage built for a man, filled with all sorts of cars you could only dream of—all with computers and tech shit still scattered around the room. It looks like I just stepped into a scene from The Matrix. I sit down on one of the seats as everyone else makes their way in.
“Got anything?” I ask him.
He pulls his glasses up and nods his head. “Yes, I believe I do. However, it’s not good. So Ade? Leave your gun outside.”
Ollie chuckles. “His gun is the least of your worries.”
Drago pauses for a second before taking a seat in his big chair and starts typing on his keyboard. “So as I said, you’re not going to like this,” he says as he continues typing.
I lean over to him. “Drago, hurry the fuck up and spit it out.”
“You see this?” he points to the screen, “This is where I followed them, using all the CCTV cameras across the city. It takes us to an airport.”
I lean back on my chair. “What the fuck do you mean, an airport?”
He puts his hand up, pausing my talking. “That’s not all. I traced the jet they took and it belongs to a Kazimir Lyov.”
Sucking in my breath at the mention of that name and yelling, “Fuck!” I smash my fist on the table.
Zane looks at me sideways. “What is it, brother?”
Drago pulls his glasses off and squeezes his fingers over the bridge of his nose. “Kazimir Lyov is a Russian name, right?” The stress evident in his tone.
“Don’t tell me he’s a part of the Russian Mafia,” Ollie adds with disbelief in his tone.
I bring my fist up to my mouth, running my index finger over my lip. “Kazimir Lyov is the Russian Mafia.”
Zane circles his steps, coming next to me.
“What do you mean ‘is the Russian mafia’? And what the fuck would he want with us?”
I clench my jaw together. “When I was younger, my dad would take me to these fights.”
Zane nods his head. “Yeah, the fights we went to.”
I shake my head. “Nah, not those ones. They were child’s play. I’m talking death matches.”
Zane’s arms cross in front of him. “So that one fight he took you to at the warehouse, wasn’t the only time?”
I shake my head before continuing, “The first life I took was when I was thirteen. It was the first time he took me to Bruce Peyton. I had no idea what the fuck was going on, but I did it. Killed him in under a minute, made a lot of men filthy rich.”
O
llie and Chad sit on the floor. Zane and Blake knew some of this story, but nothing past it.
“This carried on until I was fifteen, then I was done. I walked out of there, told my dad to get fucked…for real this time…right before he died. Anyway, the underground fighting was just the surface of what kind of operation they were running. I’m talking, trafficking, child slavery, drugs, everything. They would train up orphan boys from a young age and throw them in the ring once they hit thirteen, sometimes even younger. They’d gamble on these young boys in hopes that they would find one, like me, that they could put a lot of money on. It was a money pot, and eventually the Russians wanted in. No one has ever met Kazimir Lyov aside from his bitch boys. He’s the ghost who’s been running all major underground operations for over thirty years. Some say he lives a double life, some say he works for the CIA. It’s all shit talk obviously—the CIA bit. But that’s not even the part that fucks me up the most.” I swallow down the bile that I can feel in my throat. “Kazimir Lyov’s specialty is trafficking women.” Zane hisses and I throw my head into my hands.
“Fuck brother,” I say into my hands.
“Kazimir Lyov’s location is off radar. No one has ever been able to find him. He lives in the fucking Bermuda Triangle.”
A week passes—a fucking week. We have nothing. I have nothing. Pulling myself out of one of the beds in the clubhouse, my head pounds from a hangover. I’m rubbing my hands over my face when the bathroom door opens and out strolls Gretchen in one of my SS T-shirts, looking smug as fuck.
I shoot up off the bed. “What the fuck!”
She rolls her eyes, walking back to the bed. “Don’t play dumb, Ade. You fucked me as good last night as you’ve done every other time.”
I walk over to her, wrap my hand around her hair and yank her head into me.
“What the fuck did you just say?” I whisper into her ear.
She taps on my hand. “Ade, a little rough, seriously. Even for me.”
“What. The. Fuck. Did. You. Just. Say?” I whisper again into her ear, venom dripping from my stuttering tone.
She scrunches up her face. “We had sex, like all the other times. Seriously—”
I grip onto her head and put it in a lock hold. Grasping onto her temples, I snap her neck in one swift, perfect, twist. Making her lifeless, disgusting, body drop to the ground. I spit on her, throw on my T-shirt and my cut over the top, before walking out of the room.
Once I hit the bottom step of the stairs that leads to the bar, I light up a cigarette and nudge my head to one of the prospects. “Clean out the whore in bedroom three,” I tell him while continuing to make my way over to the table where Zane is sitting. I pull out a seat and order over Ashley to bring me a drink.
“I can’t fucking do this for much longer,” Zane says, putting his hands around the back of his neck.
His beard has grown out and he has wrinkles lining around his eyes. I swallow my drink, swallowing down the emotion that’s a second away from rising up my throat.
“I can’t think about it. If I do, I’ll explode,” I reply calmly.
“I get that, brother. We need to find them now. I’m not going to wait around on Drago for much longer.” His phone starts ringing from his pocket, and he places his bottle on the bench, swiping it unlocked and answering it. “What,” he snaps. “Yeah? All right. We’ll be there soon.” Shutting off his phone and standing from his seat. “Come on, Drago has some info for us.”
About fucking time.
I attempt to open my eyes, but they refuse to open. All I feel is the pounding in my head.
Boom, boom. Where is that sound coming from? Where am I?
I try to open my eyes again, this time succeeding. Everything is black.
“What the fuck,” I mumble.
I think over my jumbled thoughts, trying to think of the last thing I remember.
“Vicky’s wedding,” I whisper.
“Kal? Kal, is that you?”
“Alaina?” I gasp in shock.
“It’s me, babe,” she quietly replies, her voice hoarse and dry.
I attempt to move off the bed, but I feel like an anchor weighs me down. Using all my strength, I push myself up and stand off the bed, only to fall to the ground when my legs give way.
“Fuck!” I scream out in frustration.
“Shhh Kal, if they hear you they’ll come back.”
I begin crawling across the cold hard concrete floor. “Alaina? How long have we been here?”
“I don’t know. You’ve been out for a few days. I lost count. I’d say a week, maybe more.”
I pause my shuffling. “How have I been asleep for a week?”
“They’ve been drugging us with something. More you than I. They found me fascinating, being Zane’s old lady.”
Continuing my shuffling, I keep my hands feeling around in front of me. Feeling cold chains, I follow them up until they lead me to one of Alaina’s hands. They are cold and stiff, she feels like death. I keep feeling around her until she winces.
“What did they do to you, Lain? Who are they?”
She pulls her arm out of my grasp. “It’s going to be okay, we just have to be strong until the boys arrive.”
The metal door swings open and a dark shadow looms. I swallow down and look at Alaina. Now there’s light shining through the doorway, I can see her.
I wish I didn’t.
I wish I never looked her way.
My stomach coils over, as little more than bile spews out of my mouth.
The shadow makes his way in toward us and I swallow down, putting my body in front of Alaina. He laughs so hard that his fat stomach jiggles right in front of me.
“Oh, how cute. You think you can save her?”
“What do you want?” I ask my voice shaky.
“I want nothing but your sweet cunts, which I have enjoyed very much by the way.” He laughs.
I heave and throw my hand over my mouth again instantly feeling violated. Surely I’d I know if he had done anything to me? I look to Alaina, her body naked, bruised and bloody. Her once white pearly perfect hair is now bright red and matted in blood. She has bruises and dirt covering her entire body. A tear drops from my eye.
“Alaina.” I take hold of her hand. I’ve seen her and Vicky do the motion so much. My heart breaks for her. I’m a mess, but I’m not bleeding all over the place, bruised and naked. They have really worked a number on her and it makes me sick to my stomach. I need to take as much heat off her as I can. A fat hand wraps around my arm, picking me up.
“We can continue our playtime later, sweet thang. We need to send a video first.”
Looking back at Alaina while I’m walking out, the last thing I see is two more men walk into our room, zipping down their zippers of their jeans.
I scream. “No! No! Don’t you fucking touch her!”
Trying to push out of the fat hands that are grasping me so tightly, I think my arms might snap. The men stop their laughing and make their way to me. Instantly I quiet, and the fat man laughs, letting go of me. One of the men opens his mouth, revealing a strong Russian accent. Interesting. I took Russian in school. I was fascinated by their culture, not so much anymore.
He wraps his hand around my throat and pushes me up against the wall so hard I heard a slight crack come from the back of my head. He gets in-between my legs, lifting my dress up and ripping off my panties.
He sniffs them and laughs. “Still feel like being a hero, bitch? I can make you wish your mother had swallowed you.”
I gulp down as he eyes my body up and down before looking back to the fat man.
“Is this Aiden’s woman?”
My eyes go wide at the mention of Ade’s real name.
“Sure is. Kazimir doesn’t want anyone touching her, though. She’s going up on the podium.”
The young man in front of me laughs. “Oh, boss man always likes taking the fun out of everything.”
He then slides his hand down and under my dress aga
in, sliding his fingers over my pussy before cupping me and shoving what feels like his whole fist inside me. I scream out in pain while he starts pumping his fingers into me in a rough, raw, and dry motion. I dry reach, with tears streaming down my face. The fat man looks worried from what I can see through the blurry vision my tears are causing.
The young man brings his other hand up to my neck, squeezing it to hold me in place. I can’t breathe. He’s actually going to kill me, and at this moment, I couldn’t care less. There would be no coming back from this. I’ve lost all hope in myself. His fingers are going harder and I feel his pants pull down and the nakedness of his thigh against mine. I panic again, slipping in and out of consciousness. This is it, this is how I die, being digitally raped up against a wall. My mind drifts out, my breathing stops and I shut myself down.
We walk up the stairs to Drago’s and open his door, making our way back into The Matrix room. Zane, me, Blake, Ollie and Chad all walk in, closing the door behind us.
“What is it Drago?” I ask, moving over to the seat next to him.
“Something just doesn’t add up,” he replies, typing away on his keyboard.
“You say you’ve never met Kazimir Lyov?” he asks, spinning his chair around to us. I notice he looks like he’s had a rough week as well, the lack of sleep evident in his eyes.
“That’s right, I’ve only ever heard of him. There is only a handful of people who’ve seen him in the flesh.”
Chad makes his way over to where I am. “So he’s started this shit storm because you took out Bruce Peyton? It sounds like there may be more to it than that.”
I shake my head. “Nah, that would do it. Bruce wasn’t the only man I took out. I took out his right-hand man also. That’s their entire line into the underground ring.”
Chad shakes his head, “I have a bad feeling about this, and I feel as though there’s a lot more than what we are seeing.”
I stand from my seat and lean over Drago. “Anything else?”
Drago nods his head. “You said that no one has ever found him? Well, no one is Drago.” He spins his chair back around to face the computer, and I spin him around to face me again.