Cruel Enforcer by Maggie Cole

32

Sergey

Boyra only speaks in Russian.I'm not even sure if he knows English. "Throw your gun out, or I shoot you and keep her."

My insides churn. I toss the gun out and tell Kora to give me the knife if I say the word now. I try to block Kora from the danger of whatever lies outside the car, but it's pointless.

"Both of you out of the car, now," Boyra demands.

I step out and over Igor's body, feeling betrayed my own driver would conspire with a Petrov.

How did I not see it?

I've known Igor since we were kids.

I reach in for Kora and pull her close to me. She's shaking, and I try to calm her, but it's in vain. I quickly glance around.

I know this place.

Nausea hits me. It's where Zamir branded my back when I was twelve.

Boyra laughs. "Ah. I see you realize where you are."

Only one thug? Where are the rest?

Zamir always had several men around him.

Surely Boyra has others hidden somewhere?

Where are they?

I scan the empty lot. We're on the outskirts of the city, in an abandoned parking lot. A black SUV sits behind mine. The blacked-out windows could be hiding another thug, but something in my gut says no one is in it.

"In," Boyra orders and motions for us to enter the run-down office building that sits on the property. It's a one-story, falling-apart, brick building. There are only two windows. Everything about it looks identical to when I was twelve. The feeling of déjà vu sweeps through me, and I swallow down the bile rising in my throat.

Stay calm.Kora can't afford for me to lose my shit.

The door creaks as I pull it open. Just like before, there's an open space taking up the entire building. Chains with rings hang from the ceiling and are secured to the floor by bolts.

Sweat pops out on my skin, and I tug Kora tighter.

Why hasn't he patted me down?

Boyra strolls past me. His gun is tucked in the back of his pants. He motions to the thug, who joins him by his side. He, too, isn't holding a gun.

He's cockier than Zamir.

Why didn't I keep my knife?

It's going to be more challenging to get it from Kora.

Boyra's cold eyes bore into mine. I try to ignore his lips curving in a sinister smile, the chill going down my spine, and the flashing of memories from being in this room.

"Strip," he orders.

Fuck. My heart beats faster. I hesitate.

"Now!" he screams, and Kora jumps.

I release her. I drop my pants and pull off my T-shirt.

"Tie him up," he orders his thug.

His thug pushes me toward the restraints. I avoid looking at Kora. Memories of being twelve are spinning so fast in my head, I can hardly breathe. If I look at her, I'm going to lose it.

The thug restrains my arms so I can't move then he kicks out my ankles.

I scream, stand on my tiptoes, and take shallow breaths, trying to regain my composure.

My ankles get locked down. The pain hits me from my muscles being overstretched. My toes start to go numb.

Boyra takes his finger and drags it along my back, scratching his nails along the scarred tissue. He leans into my ear. In Russian, he says, "Did you think you could cover up the devil's mark?"

I don't respond and make the mistake of looking at Kora. Her hand is over her face, and tears fall off her cheeks.

"You're a piranha," I growl in English and lock eyes with her.

She straightens her shoulders and wipes her face.

Boyra laughs and steps in front of me. He drags his finger over my chest then pats me between the ribs. "This will do."

He spins and shouts, "Vlad."

Boyra steps over to Kora, and Vlad, the thug, moves in front of me. He takes out a knife and cuts a line down the middle of my chest.

"Argh!" I grit my teeth. It's a thin line, enough to draw blood, but not deep enough to drain me. I've done it to many men over the years. It extends the amount of time you can torture a person.

"Stop!" Kora cries out.

"Piranha!" I yell at her, trying to keep her mentally strong so she doesn't get hurt, hoping Maksim can find us in time from the text I sent him.

The tears don't stop. Boyra puts his arm around her waist, and she gasps.

"Piranha!"

Vlad mumbles the Russian word for piranha, which is similar to the English version. "Is that what you're saying?"

In English, I say, "Neither of you knows English, do you?"

"Russian!" Boyra screams.

Something snaps in me. "I killed your brother. I peeled off the skin of his back and held it in front of him to see. I dragged my knife over his raw spine over and over while he pissed himself."

"Russian!" Boyra demands again.

I start to laugh. Vlad slaps me hard in the face.

I slowly look up at him. "You're a pussy. If you're going to kill me, at least do it with some balls."

"Russian!" Boyra screams with rage.

I watch him take a step toward me. "You mother—"

Kora rips the gun from Boyra's pants, flips the safety, and shoots him in the back. He screams out in pain and collapses. She moves several steps away from Boyra. He's still alive and reaches for her, but she steps too far away. She aims the gun at Vlad.

"Untie him, now," she screams hysterically with tears falling down her cheeks.

Vlad stands paralyzed.

"Now!"

"Untie me," I order him in Russian.

He glances at Boyra, who gets on his knees and reaches again for Kora.

She moves the gun and shoots him in the chest then aims it back at Vlad. "Now!"

I repeat her demands. He releases my ankle then my wrist. He spins and looks at Kora. I regain my balance on my foot and reach for the other hand but can't get it undone.

"Untie him!" she screams again.

"Other side," I repeat in Russian.

He moves to untie me, but instead, lunges at Kora.

The gun goes off three times. He falls on her, and a pool of blood rapidly spreads under them.

"Kora!" I repeat over and over, but she never answers. I attempt to untie myself again, but I can't reach. "Kora!"

The sound of cars echo in my ears. The front door opens, and Maksim comes running in.

"Kora," I yell again.

Maksim rolls Vlad off her, but there's so much blood, and neither one is conscious. I hang from the ceiling, feeling like my entire world is sinking in around me.

Another car pulls up, and Liam and Killian come flying in. Liam picks up Kora and takes her away. Killian unties me, and I fall against him. Maksim hands me my clothes, and I grasp them as I run to the car Liam is in.

"Where was she shot?"

Blood covers Liam. "I can't find a bullet. She might have hit her head. She's breathing."

I pull her shirt off her, trying to find a wound, but I can't find anything. I press my head to hers. "Wake up, my lapa." I kiss her, stroke her cheek, and keep repeating it. We're almost to the hospital when her eyes flutter open.

She sees me, and tears well in her eyes. "Sergey," she whispers.

I pull her into my arms, blinking back my own tears. "Shh."

"You're bleeding." She presses her cold hand on my chest. Her body shakes hard.

"Shh." I wrap my body around her as much as possible. She passes out again.

We pull up to the hospital. I slide on my pants and carry her in. A team of people takes her from me and puts her on a stretcher. "She's going into shock," I hear a woman yell out.

I don't notice Maksim, Liam, or Killian by my side.

A woman with gray hair approaches me. "Sir, you need to come with us. You're bleeding."

I glance down and look at the blood drying on my chest.

"Get cleaned up," Maksim instructs.

I turn to him. "She can't..." My mouth turns dry.

"Get cleaned up," he repeats. "You can't do anything to help her right now. All we can do is wait."

A nurse stops me in the hall. "Sir, you brought the Black woman in who was unconscious and is going into shock?"

"Yes."

She hands me Kora's engagement ring. "This is too nice to be put on a table."