Page 20 of Rescuing Rebecca
“Liar!” The second kick landed harder than the first, and she cried out.
He had her now. Right where he wanted her. Beaten. Broken. Begging for mercy. He circled her. A predator sizing up his prey. The next kick landed on the small of her back, and she grunted as her body arched, absorbing the shock.
“No more. Please!”
“Not so tough without a knife in your hand, are you, Maya?”
Naturally, Roman knew about her family’s history. Everyone in Boston at the time knew. Hell, everyone in the country knew. Not every day a gifted MIT student murdered her parents in cold blood before trying to off her twin sister too.
The story had made national news, and the search for Maya had been vast, with tips coming in from every state capital and backwater hole, from Forks, Washington, to Stock Island in the Florida Keys.
Yeah, everyone had heard about the Barrows tragedy, and thousands had wanted to cash in on the hefty reward for the capture of a twenty-one-year-old murderer. None of the tips had panned out. No surprise. Maya had been a hacker from the age of ten and dabbling for fun on the dark web at fifteen. She had no problem disappearing into the Internet’s underground and staying hidden.
Help from one of the most powerful men in Washington hadn’t hurt either.
As the newly appointed Secretary of Homeland Security, Jonas Johnson Senior had been in one position of power after another, wielding his family name and money to his advantage while stepping on the backs of those who helped him get there—not to mention the corpses of those who stood in his way.
How and when he’d sunk his nails into Maya, Becca still didn’t know. Was it before her sister’s mental decline? Before she’d broken down and destroyed her family in a fit of jealous rage? Or after? No idea. But she intended to find out. Expose the truth. Exact justice.
For herself. Her parents. Jay. The thousands who’d been hurt or killed along the way.
To do that, she couldn’t let herself be a victim. Not today.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Roman’s next move coming. Friggin’ asshole loved to kick a girl when she was down. Sufficiently motivated, she rolled out of reach and staggered to her feet.
Ears ringing, she kept her center of gravity low as she lifted her arms and curled her hands into loose fists. God damn, everything hurt. Every muscle protested. Every neuron blasted pain-filled electrical signals to her brain. Still, she held her defensive position.
Experience had taught her she couldn’t beat Roman. He was bigger. Stronger. Meaner. But she was smarter. All she had to do? Outlast his temper. Or lose consciousness while maintaining the ability to breathe.
“Enough.” Her back to the door, she hadn’t seen Nik enter, but the sound of his voice set a wave of relief coursing through her.
“This doesn’t concern you.” Roman’s frown deepened as he looked past her shoulder.
“Everything on this island concerns me.” Nik came to a stop beside her, and she never felt more grateful for his presence.
“She’s lying,” Roman spat, his arm gesture consuming her in a wide arc as he flung his accusations. “She caused the fire on purpose because she’s up to something.”
Nik shook his head. “She’s not. I asked Rishi to investigate. The microwave has a recall. They pose a fire hazard due to a defect that allows them to start on their own. We found nothing on Maya. There was nothing out of the ordinary in the computer room when we searched. And records show there were no attempts to breach security or send any external communications during the three minutes the building was on reserve power.”
“So why the bag of popcorn?”
“Because I snack on that shit every damn day, and I use Bluetooth to start the microwave before I even leave my desk.” Her fingers trembled as she investigated the damage to her lip. “You’ve seen me do it, dumbass.” She’d made sure to establish the routine for this very scenario.
“You’re lying.” Hands bunched into fists, Roman took a menacing step forward.
“Stop,” Nik ordered, his commanding tone unusual, the gun he pulled from the back of his pants even more unusual. Roles reversed from their earlier position in the boardroom; he pointed the barrel at her abuser’s chest. “I’m done letting you think you’re more than the hired help, Dmitriev. You’ve made the mistake of confusing my uncle’s tolerance of your insubordination with affection. I can assure you. It’s not. You’re not his blood, and you’ll never be his heir. So let me remind you, you’re here by my grace, and you live because I allow it. Lay one more hand on Maya, and I’ll remove it from your body one finger at a time until you’re left with nothing but a blunt club. Then I’ll let the iron guards use you for target practice. Do I make myself clear?”
“I’m here,” Roman said, his accent coming in thick as he moved toward them, a black stain inching closer until the muzzle touched his bloody shirt. “Because your uncle knows what everyone knows. You’re weak, little Volkov. You don’t have it in you to pull the trigger on a traitor, much less a woman you love who doesn’t love you back and never will.”
The grin spreading across Nik’s face as he pressed the gun in deeper was as evil as any she’d ever seen on his uncle. “Well, you’re welcome to test your misguided theory, but I don’t believe you’ll enjoy the results.”
The two men stared each other down. Neither blinking. Neither shrinking. Neither willing to admit the other had the bigger set of balls. Seemed like Alexsandr’s ticking clock had started more than one chain reaction, although the showdown between Nik and Roman had been a long time coming, a lot longer than she’d been in the picture, according to her friend.
“You think shooting me will stop Alexsandr from killing her?” Roman jutted his chin in her direction but kept his eyes locked on Nik’s. “He’ll just send another in my place.”
“True.” Nik shrugged. “Unless she provides him with the key to control Dominion, and she will.”
Becca shook her head. “Nik, I wasn’t lying. I’m close to unraveling the code, but it’ll take a month of testing to get the sequence right.”
