Page 5 of Ruined

“Who’s that?” I ask, nodding my head towards the older woman and Blake.

“Mila, Blake and Tobias’s mother,” Gabriel says.

“And Blake doesn’t talk at all?”

“No, not since… not since they took us,” he mutters.

“I’m sure my lovely husband—” Tobias says, as he appears behind us.

“Not husband,” Gabriel interrupts.

Tobias snaps his head to Gabriel, rolling his eyes before turning his attention back towards me. “I’m sureGabrielhas threatened you, told you all about his brother-in-law, but Jace…” he says, stepping into my line of view and once again, these fuckers block my view of Blake. I’m very quickly beginning to hate not being able to see her. “Hurt my sister, overstep, touch her, do anything to upset her feelings, and I swear I’ll remove your guts through your mouth,” Tobias threatens.

Nodding my head, I don’t say anything. I don’t plan on involving myself with her. Besides, she’s just a protection job, just someone I’m supposed to watch over. Even if I feel a pull towards her.

“Jace,” Dimitri calls out.

Nodding my head, I walk towards the three of them, bending to grab Blake’s two bags.

“With your life,” Dimitri says. Biting my cheek, I stop myself from snapping at him that I already know this.

The walk outside to my car is tense and awkward. Opening the passenger door, Blake glares up at me with the same fight, wanting to deny me for the simple fact that she can.

“Get inside, Blake,” I mutter. Her eyes squint before she bends down getting into the passenger seat. Closing her door, I shove her bags into the trunk. Slamming it shut, I can feel four sets of eyes on me. Taking a deep breath, I don’t look up as I open the driver’s side door and get inside.

“Seatbelt,” I mutter, twisting the key in the ignition, and the car roars to life. Blake slowly does as I say, clicking the seatbelt into place. Leaning against the door, away from me, she pulls her hood further over her head.

This is going to be a long drive.

3

It’s crazy how one moment everything fades away, and you can feel this calmness rush over you. The inner peace you feel that no one—that nothing—can touch you. Then the smallest thing, a smell, the look of someone, something so simple, and the memories come flying back. Then the overwhelming urge to off myself floods my brain.

I think about killing myself all the time. About what it would be like if I just took a blade to my wrist and felt the warmth leave my body. To feel the coldness wrap around me, the oxygen leaving my lungs. I could swallow those final moments, a smile on my face, knowing I would finally be at peace.

I could open the passenger door and feel the wind against my skin one final time before jumping out, my head connecting with the concrete. I’m not sure if it would hurt, but anything would be better than the doom I feel in the pit of my stomach. The uneasiness grows from sitting next to this man with a decent-sized man-bun and annoyingly masculine energy. I don’t like him, and I don’t trust him.

Granted, it’s not very hard for me to not like or trust someone—not anymore.

I stepped out of the bathroom into my room earlier, finding more people in my personal space than I preferred, including this stranger who wouldn’t stop staring at me. I’m used to people having their gaze on me. It’s been that way since I was born. Growing up with a father being the Pakhan in Russia and a brother being Pakhan in America, you become accustomed to the public, the staring, meeting random people, and then the killing. That’s nothing new. Just like the women in this world are either sold or married off.

Which is why I’m currently stuck in a car with a man I don’t know, on my way to a place I also don’t know, having to put my trust into a stranger.

I don’t like it. Not at all.

Imagine my surprise when Dad told me Antonio–the leader of the Italian Mafia–wanted my hand in marriage. Not only is he thirty years older than me, putting him at fifty, but he also wants to kill my Aunt Salem. Almost everyone wants to kill her. After her entire family was murdered in front of her years ago, she took it upon herself to seek revenge, making a mess out of the cartel, the Italians, and even us—the Russians. All because she fell in love with Dad’s enforcer, my Uncle Zane. Not that I’m complaining. I’m happy for them; she got her happy ending. It just means our involvement with her puts a target on our backs.

It's been a week since I found out Antonio wants to marry me, and a day since my parents decided to ship me off. I’m supposed to go into hiding until they figure out a way to get Antonio off their backs. I’m not sure why they don’t just kill him. It would make things a lot easier. But as my brother Tobias says, we can’t just go killing off everyone that crosses us. I’d call him a bitch, because that’s exactly what it means.

But I have no room to speak. I was beaten and stopped talking.

I must have dozed off because the next thing I hear is a loud bang and my body being jerked. My heart pounds behind my ribcage, the tips of my fingers go numb, and my eyes flutter. I feel myself being pulled in too many directions. My eyes fall on Jace standing in front of the windshield, staring at me. I gulp for air, but it’s too late.

“Bucket!” someone yells. I yank my head to the side, trying to stop them, but it’s no use. The cloth falls over my face. I open my mouth to scream, but nothing comes out. Water pours over my face, filling my mouth, no matter the amount of spitting or struggling. The water fills my lungs; it burns. Everything burns, my body is on fire, and when I don’t think I can take it anymore, it all stops. The pressure in my head intensifies, my vision is blurry and all I can do is scream when the whip lashes against my stomach. Every sound I make only encourages the men around me to whip me harder and faster. The lashes break my skin open, forcing blood to pour from my body. I try to scream only the water fills my mouth, drowning me. I can feel the fuzziness invade my head.

“Blake?”

I blink my eyes open. Jace frowns inches from my face. Jerking back, I scramble over to the driver's side. I need to get away, I need to get out.They’re after me. They’re going to find me. I won’t escape.