Page 128 of Velvet Chains
“You and me both, brat,” I mutter, my grip tightening on the steering wheel.
Laura, Eli — derzhites’, we’re coming for you! Wait for me.
“Doc, you’re on standby. If any of us catch a bullet, you better be ready to patch us up.”
“Always am,” he says, calm as ever. “Just try not to get shot, Vitya. I’m running low on sutures.”
“Blyad. No promises.”
The decrepit warehouse looms ahead, silhouetted against the night sky. Flickering floodlights illuminate the crumbling brick and rusted metal, a piss-poor attempt at security.
I kill the headlights and slow to a crawl. “I count six guards on the perimeter,” I mutter. “Heavily armed.”
“Child’s play,” Misha scoffs. “I’ve taken shits more intimidating than these clowns.”
“Stay focused,” Doc warns. “Ivan’s a crafty mudak. Expect the unexpected.”
I park behind a dumpster overflowing with rancid garbage. The stench turns my stomach, but it’s the perfect cover. “Doc, you’re up. Buy us time to slip in the back. And make some fucking noise, will you?”
Chapter 51
Laura
A few hours earlier
A FAINT scuffling sound from the vent above makes my blood run cold. Eli. Where is she going? I tap softly on the metal, praying she’ll hear me, understand my wordless plea.
Stay put, Eli. Don’t make a sound.
Harsh voices filter through the door, mixing Russian and heavily accented English.
“They want us to move the girls,” one guard says. “Something’s happening.”
“What about the American woman?” another asks.
“Leave her for now. Boss has plans for that one.”
My breath catches. Victor. It has to be. He’s coming for us.
Screams and sobs erupt from nearby cells as guards bark orders.
“Shut up, suka!” a guard snarls. “Before I shut you up myself!”
A gunshot rings out, then another, choking off the cries with brutal finality.
“Stupid bitch,” someone mutters. “Should’ve kept quiet.”
I hug my knees to my chest, trembling, waiting for them to come for me. But the footsteps recede, fading into tense silence.
They’re gone. For now.
Wasting no time, I scramble up, prying at the grate with shaking fingers. “Eli?” I call softly, peering into the gloom. “Eli, are you there?”
No answer. My heart seizes, icy tendrils of fear clawing at my throat. I rip the grate free, hoisting myself up into the vent. Empty. She’s gone.
Panic rises, bitter and choking.
Where is she? How could I let this happen?
