“Better save your energy, miss.”
“Shit,” I pant.
“Shit, indeed.”
I stare at him sideways. His lips are dry and cracked, which could mean he’s dehydrated. I motion at his jacket where there’s a red hole. Stains of blood cover his cheeks, too, giving him the look of a wounded warrior. “Did you lose a lot of blood?”
He stares at his injury as if he forgot it’s there. “No. This should be fine.”
“How did you end up here too?”
“They took me in place of Boss.”
“Kirill?”
“Yes.”
“Why would they want to take Kirill?”
“I’m not sure. I just knew I had to protect him.”
The amount of blind loyalty Aleksander has for Kirill is insane. He’d literally die for him. As would Katia and Ruslan for me, I guess. I hope they didn’t get caught in the gun war.
“We need to come up with a plan to escape,” I tell him.
“Our best option is if one of us causes a diversion and the other escapes.”
“I will do it.”
“No. You’re the Pakhan’s grandniece. I’m disposable, so I’ll do it.”
“Even though you’re Kirill’s guard, you’re not disposable. None of our men are, even if you hate me.”
“I don’t hate you.”
“Your boss does.”
“That’s because you’re threatening him, miss.”
“Only to protect myself. I won’t cause any of you harm if you don’t cause me harm.”
“Does that mean you’re not…” He clears his throat. “You know, against his preferences?”
“Why would I be? They’re his preferences and no one’s opinion matters. As I said, I will only use his sexuality against him if he threatens me. I would rather not, but that’s the only thing I’ve got on him, considering how closed off he is. If you tell me something else…I can ditch it.”
“Nice try, miss.” He smiles a little. It’s the first time I’ve seen Aleksander smile, and I hate to be like the other guards who compare him to a girl, but he really looks like one right now.
“Doesn’t hurt to try.” I smile back. “Let’s escape first, then we’ll talk.”
The door bangs open and both of us stiffen against the wall. We don’t try to scramble away because that’s not only useless considering whatever they injected in our systems, but it also would drain our energy sooner rather than later.
Five men walk inside, all tall and broad with mean features. The bald one, who appears to be their leader, approaches me with a gleam in his light eyes.
He has a scar that cuts across his bald head and ends right above his eyelid. When he speaks, it’s in a thick Eastern European accent. “We should start with this one. You’ll scream for your uncle and husband, won’t you, kitten?”
Two men charge toward me, each trying to grab me by the arm. I kick and push at them, but not only am I outnumbered, my body also doesn’t feel like mine. My movements are slow, and every time I punch them, they laugh and speak in their language, which I don’t understand.
Aleksander tries to help me, but the other two hold him down on his knees and press down on the wound in his shoulder. He bites his lower lip to not release any sound of pain.
“Get her on her knees,” the bald one orders. “I want those lips around my cock.”
The guards get me in position, lust shining through their eyes. The sick assholes must’ve been promised a share after their leader is done.
The bald one gets his short, fat dick out and places it at my mouth. I don’t open, glaring up at him. I’m going to fight tooth and nail before I let them touch me. I’m a Sokolov, and we don’t go down without a fight.
He motions at the other guard, and they punch Aleksander across the stomach. He groans, falling to the ground, but they hold him upright, one of them grabbing him by his injured shoulder.
“For every second you don’t suck me off like a good whore, that girly faggot will be punched. How long until he dies, I wonder?”
The guards hit him again and blood explodes from his mouth.
“Wait a second.” One of the men holding Aleksander crouches in front of him and feels at his chest. Aleksander tries to shoo them away, groaning and bucking until his face turns red.
The guard unbuckles Aleksander’s pants and boxers. I don’t want to watch the assault, but if I close my eyes, how am I a leader? Aleksander is one of our men, and if I let him go through this alone, it’s no different than betraying my role.
Gritting my teeth, I force myself to stare at his face, to tell him it’ll be fine even if I, myself, am not so sure of that. Aleksander isn’t focused on me, though. He’s lost his cool head and is blindly trying to ward them off, which only gets him hurt more.