Unwanted Sacrifices (Russkaya Mafiya Book 3) (12 page)

I’ll never belong to a Minski.

NIKOLI

“You heard my sister;
she mentioned your father’s name.”

“Fuck! I know. I just wish I knew who it was that was saying his fucking name,” Tate grumbles. Hell I do too; right now we could possibly be on our way to finding Sabrina.

I lean back in my desk chair. We’re in the club office that we share. It’s large enough that we each have our own big black desks, chairs, filing cabinets, etc. I thought we should just get a couple couches for in here, maybe a rug and coffee table, but apparently since it’s an office, Tate thinks we need to do actual work in it. I thought it would be a great spot to take secret naps when we needed them, but he didn’t quite agree.

“It’s been too long; Sabrina could be dead by now.”

He’s my best friend so I share exactly what’s been beating me up inside. I should have found her by now and I’m terrified that I won’t. Tate can help me the most out of anyone and so far I’m in awe of all the resources he’s put to use to try to help me find Sabrina. Given enough time, the Mafiya can usually hunt almost anyone down.

It gets tricky when it comes to women though. Men are quicker to give up another man to get ahead or to save their ass, before they’ll voluntarily give up a sex trade business that makes them a massive amount of money. We’ve searched for years for my mother and sisters’ captors, never hearing a word. I hate to admit that the same could happen with Sabrina. Unless people start finding out that she belongs to the Mafiya and Bratva, it could help save her or hurt her further.

“You thought it was too late for your sisters also and one is sitting next to my wife a few doors down that hallway right now. I still can’t get over that we found her and by accident at that.”

“It doesn’t feel real to me. She’s not the baby face I remember anymore. My memories have become so fuzzy over the years, that it hasn’t sunk in yet. I wish she would tell me what happened to the others. I’m so fortunate to have her back in my life, but I’m still missing my mother and two sisters. I wish she would tell me so I can have some type of real closure. I know they’re dead, but I’d like to know that they didn’t die in pain.”

“I get it man; just take it one step at a time. Vishna’s alive; that’s the first step, you know? Your family’s deaths could be too raw for her to remember. Just give it some time and hopefully she’ll trust you enough to open up to you.”

“Yeah, Boss, you’re probably right.”

“I wish I could speak to my father to see if he knows anything.”

“Too late for that now.”

“I know. I texted Viktor and filled him in on what all we found while you were speaking to Vishna. He’s freaking out for you. You know how Viktor likes everything organized with no surprises and all. Thank God he’s not as uptight as he used to be. He’s going over any contacts the Bratva has done business with in the United Kingdom right now to see if he finds anyone who may be of interest to us.”

“Good. I wish I knew what to do. I feel like I should be handling this like a hit. I want to do the research on the mark and the planning, but I don’t have a fucking name and I’m going mad inside.”

“I’m not trying to sound like a pig here, but maybe you should go to one of the topless bars? It may help clear your mind so it opens up some new thinking?”

“I can’t look at damn tits right now. All I can think of is Sabrina!”

“I know, and I don’t mean to sound fucking heartless, but you used to love that place before you became obsessed with taking care of Sabrina. I just thought it may help you clear your mind some so you can step back and look at this like a job.”

“She isn’t some kind of a job, Tatkiv; she’s my fucking life, my soul.”

Sabrina’s also the only woman I’ve seen semi-naked in months. If only I was able go back to that day she needed me to zip up her dress. I had walked up those stairs to her dancing around in nothing but a pair of black and hot pink lace panties with matching bra, and holy shit if it isn’t the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. I’ve had the pleasure of witnessing many women naked and in various outfits, but Sabrina is beyond comparison. Probably a good thing I hadn’t seen her fully naked first; she would have ruined any other woman for me afterwards.

If I could go back now, things would be completely different. I wouldn’t have hesitated and then done the gentlemanly thing. I would have ripped the back of that dress right down the seam, until she was completely exposed to me and let her know she was all mine. Many times I’ve fantasized about how her snug center would feel wrapped around me, about how her sweet strawberry colored nipples would taste as I nibbled on them.

Now all I can do is lie awake worrying about her. I can’t even picture her naked right now due to what she could possibly be going through. What if some scum has her bare and is torturing her right at this moment? Anything could be happening to her and I can’t do a damn thing about it.

“Sorry man, forget I mentioned it.” I nod and Tate’s ringer goes off alerting us of an incoming call. He checks the ID and holds up a finger to me.

“Moy brat.” Tate answers his phone.

Viktor.
He always did work fast. Once he starts thinking about something, he can’t let it go until he’s able to figure it out.

“No shit!” Tate utters surprised and glances up at me.

“No, no that’s awesome news. Yeah, anything you can find out will be awesome; we appreciate it.”

He scribbles something down on his desk calendar, “Thank you, Viktor. You may have just given us exactly what we need to find out where this guy is.”

He finishes and hangs up, grinning as he looks at me.

“We have a last name for this ‘Chek’ guy.” Tate tears the paper off and holds it up like the prize it may be.

“No fucking way.”

“Put on a suit; we’re going to London for a meeting.”

I’M LEAVING ON A JET PLANE

“Seriously, Niko, out of
all your choices, you had to wear Armani?”

“It’s a good black suit.” Shrugging, I recline my seat on Tate’s jet. I needed black because I’m not sure if this will turn into a bloody trip. If I have my way though, it will.

“It’s Italian and right now is not a good time to be wearing it. I don’t want any type of support going to them at all at the moment. The last message we sent seems to be keeping them quiet, but who knows how long that will last. I’m sick of watching them attempt to shake us up.”

“Your shoes are Italian.” I counter and Tate stares at his shoes disgusted.

“When this is all over with, it’s time we go shopping.”

“Whatever you say, Boss, but Emily won’t make it that easy for you. She once told me that she still has jeans still from high school.”

“I’ll let her donate all of our old clothes to a needy charity; it’ll persuade her.”

Shrugging, my eyes close; I’m worn out. The flight to London always takes forever. I’m not holding my breath on getting any sleep, but I really could care less to discuss clothes with Tate right now. I could be in combat pants and a T-shirt right now for all I care. As long as I can move easily in it, then I’m content. My only priority right now is finding Bina.

My phone pings. It’s Avery again.

Avery:
Coffees hot!

Me:
I could use a gallon

Avery:
It’s here waiting, anytime you want some.

If things weren’t so fucked up right now, I could damn sure use a trip out to see my friend. It’s about time I check up on her and make sure the biker is treating her good. I should tell her what’s going on with me, but I don’t want her worrying.

Tate’s in good with their motorcycle club and it’s been fairly quiet for him too. I’m glad though, because when the bikers call, it’s never for good news.

I shove my phone in the inside jacket pocket of my suit and close my eyes again. I must be more exhausted than I realized because my eyes are barely shut before I’m out.

SABRINA

This time I’m burning
up. One minute I’m shivering and my teeth are chattering so hard they feel like they’ll chip, and then it’s right back to being really hot. I stopped sweating hours ago. At least it feels like hours, it could only be minutes for all I know.

My head’s pounding so much that time holds no real meaning at the moment. It can’t be good, if I even realize I’m no longer sweating. Doesn’t that mean my body is severely dehydrated? The only water I get is when Chek sprays me down with the freezing cold water from the hose, surely that can’t be enough to keep me alive? Although I’m not really moving or anything, so I wonder if it differentiates.

This sickness all started after he cut me. I don’t know if there was something on his knife and I’m suffering from an infection or if he’s poisoned me. Poison could cause me to be sick and die. I bet his plan all along was to put me through hell and then poison me to death.

Fucking coward.
He couldn’t even shoot me; he had to take the pussy way out and not let me know I was dying. His biggest mind fuck of all? Making you think there’s a chance to live when there was never one in the first place.

Chek better pray this kills me, because if I’m ever free and able to, I will gladly kill him. I’ve never felt the need to take someone’s life—even Kendall’s for as bad as she treated me. This man, however, has done more than my sister ever had; he took Nikoli from me when I was so close to finally having him.

There’s a scraping noise from the heavy door and a brief burst of light filters into the concrete room. I’ve decided this must be a basement or warehouse of some sort.

My vision’s blurry but I swear it’s not Chek I see, but Kolya. I keep quiet, just in case he will take me out of here. My head throbs, but I’m still able to make out what he says to another man in Russian.

“He has a meeting with Knees and Nikoli. I want you to spray this room out while he’s gone. Spray each of the women down and then cover them with blankets. I believe at least one is dead in the other section—could be more.”

“Is there heat, sir?” the other guy asks.

“No, we don’t waste any extra money on them. If they don’t survive, they’re weak, and the buyers won’t want them. The buyers need women they don’t have to worry will die if they lock them in a basement or cellar.”

“Understandable,” the other man answers and they both leave the room.

I want so badly to scream out for help, but it would do no good. There are other women here besides me, and according to Kolya, it isn’t a big deal if we die. Maybe Chek didn’t poison me after all. Could I be sick? I’ve been stuck down in this cold, damp area for quite a while, it would make sense that my body is protesting.

I’m pretty smart, but I can’t figure out what’s happening to my body. My mind is so screwed up right now, I don’t know left from right, yet I’m trying to think up a diagnosis. Oh God, he’s going to spray me down again and it’ll probably make this worse. I don’t know if I have enough of a voice to even attempt to ask him to spare me the icy spray. Maybe if I use all of my manners like Chek has taught me, the man won’t spray me. And maybe a blanket too—for warmth when I’m not overheated.

Moving my tongue around, I attempt to clear my throat, but it’s just too dry. I keep on and try to speak. “Haa.” It comes out sounding between a hoarse bark and a gasp for air.

The ache in my head intensifies as I strain to speak and I feel like I could pass out. I wish I was able to cry, and then I would have tears that I could use to wet my mouth. Right now it’s so parched it’s hard to believe it will even open for me.

I have no sweat, no tears, no voice…I may as well be dead.

NIKOLI

We touch down and
as the plane hits the tarmac I’m jolted awake.

“Woah man, calm down.” Tate has his hands out as I frantically look around.

“Bina?” I gasp.

“No, I’m sorry. We’ve just landed.” he mumbles—his voice empathetic.

“Shit! Fuck, it was a dream!” My eyes water as it hits me she’s still gone. “I feel like my fucking heart’s ripping in two. She is a part of me, yet she is missing. We have to find her, Tate; I don’t think I can live like this.”

“We’re one step closer, Niko. I promise you moy brat, I will do everything in my power to get her back for you.”

I nod as a tear trickles down my cheek and run my hands over my face in frustration. I have to pull myself together. The man we’re meeting with could be the one who hurt my sister; he could be the one who still has my Bina, and I need to be on my game.

A sleek, dark grey Mercedes sedan is waiting for us when we depart the jet. As posh as Tate’s plane is—filled with rich leather seating—plush carpet and delicious snacks, I still don’t care too much for flying. No amount of food can make me feel comfortable when I’m as high as the clouds.

The driver opens the back door of the car so an older gentleman can get out to great us.