I felt the man's hand dig into my arm and I was being dragged roughly. I knew I’d have another bruise added to the many I already had. They took me outside for my daily fresh air intake. It was useless since they kept a cover over my head. I wanted to inhale fresh air, not the damn air in this damn hood.
I couldn’t believe my life had become a nightmare. Two weeks of captivity, surrounded by barbaric men. This place they held me at was disgusting. It didn’t have running water, it was dirty, and I was freezing most of the night. I should be grateful they at least gave me a toothbrush and toothpaste.
He pulled on me hard again. I tried hard to keep up with him, but every so often, I’d stumble. I couldn’t see where I was walking with the damn thing over my head. Each time I stumbled, he’d mumble something in Russian. I wished I understood the language. It would have made the last two weeks at least somewhat easier if I could understand what they were planning. Instead, I was helpless and clueless.
“Stupid woman,” he spat at me in English, pulled my head covering off, and shoved me into the small room. “You keep taunting him and you’ll end up on your back, underneath him.”
A cold shiver of fear ran down my body. I knew exactly what he meant. It was a miracle nobody had tried to rape me yet. There were several of them who kept leering at me, but thankfully, a few of the men kept them away from me. It was as if they knew they had to protect me from their own group.
My stomach growled and I pressed my hand against it. I was so damn hungry. They had been giving me one meal a day, dry bread and a glass of water. I felt like I could pass out at any minute from the bump to the head I just earned and starvation. It was a horrible combination. Now was definitely not the time to pass out.
I huddled further back into the small room that had been my prison for the past two weeks. It had no window, no light, just a small bed. The man whose face I had just gouged shoved the other man aside as he snarled at me, marching towards me.
There was some shouting in Russian but I couldn’t understand any of it. Instead, I focused on the immediate danger in front of me. He grabbed me by my arms as I started screaming at the top of my lungs. I knew nobody could hear me, here in the middle of nowhere, but I still screamed, hoping and praying someone would stop him. He hit me hard across the face, so hard, I lost my balance and fell onto the bed.
He flipped me onto my stomach and I started screaming again. He crawled over me, his horrible breath on my neck as he forced my face down into the pillow while his hand held my head. Struggling to breathe, panic rose inside me.
I felt his other hand roughly cup my breast and my instinct took over. I started kicking and bucking, screaming as if my life depended on it. And it did.
“Shut up,” it was the first English word this guy had spoken to me.
Now I wished I listened to my father and went right home. Since I arrived in Russia, he has been asking me to cut the trip short and come back home. I wasn’t sure if it was a coincidence or if he knew of a potential threat. He never mentioned anything concrete and I thought he’d been over-protective, just as he had been over the last fifteen years. Not that I could blame him. Bottom line was that I didn’t listen to him. Obviously, since I was here in this situation. I just wished if he knew something, he openly communicated it.
He released my head, and I quickly lifted it slightly and took a deep breath as his hand wrapped around my mouth. I wouldn’t go down without a fight. I opened my mouth as his hand wrapped around it and I bit hard into it.
He yelped, and the next second, his hands wrapped around my neck, choking me.
Don't pass out! Don’t pass out!It was the only thought lingering in my head as darkness slowly descended over me.
Then a loud, shattering bang sounded and shook the entire house. Lots of shouting started happening. Someone pulled the trigger of a gun in another part of the house, the sound deafening.
The cover was over my head again, and I was sure this was it for me.
Chapter Three
Dimitry
Iwas already out of the car, snaking my way to her. I kept my cover, getting closer and closer. Nikolai on my heels. The other guy kicked the crumpled figure on the ground and a low whimper, muffled by the bag over her head, left her lips.
We were right at the edge and they still hadn’t seen us, so focused on hitting the woman on the ground.
Bastards!
I wanted to charge at them but we had to make sure that we did it at the right time. One of the men stopped the others. Dragging the woman off the ground, he took her into the house. Three men were left outside while two went in.
Nikolai and I shared a look. There were no words needed, we’d take out the three outside first. I charged and took down the closest one, snapping his neck and Nikolai did the same. That left only one and he had his gun pointed at us. I didn’t want to have the gun go off and alert the people inside. Thankfully, Nikolai got to him and snapped his neck, his body slumping quietly into the ground.
I heard the woman’s scream and we both charged in. We moved in sync towards the screaming. It was inevitable, we’d have to use guns.
Rage coursed through my veins when I saw what the man was getting ready to do. Without a second thought, I pulled the trigger and killed the man who held the woman in his grips. Without being able to see, he pulled her with him and she crumbled to the ground, fighting and screaming. His lifeless body on top of her, his blood staining her.
Another man fired off a round. A bullet buzzed past my head, embedding into the wooden door frame behind me. My eyes made contact with the shooter and I smiled. The bastard had blown his only chance. The next second Nikolai shoved a knife into his neck before he even realized what happened.
I pushed the dead body off of Anastasia. Grabbing her off the ground, I threw her over my shoulder. With Nikolai at my back, we ran through the house and out the door towards the car.
Even after all that, she still struggled against me.
“Let go of me you asshole,” her voice was muffled through the cloth over her head. Her little fists were punching at my back but I could barely feel the impact.