Page 70 of My Super Sexy Spy
That’s when I had to step back and consider, maybe this wasn’t about me at all. Liam was a spy. Liam might have enemies.
Liam might be in trouble!
“Holy shit! Hold on, baby. I’m coming.”
But first, I was going to need a weapon.
* * *
Liam
“Are you done yet?” I asked through swollen and split lips. Dmitri had been whaling on me for hours. Hitting me until I blacked out. Giving me smelling salts to wake me up only to start hitting me again with his brass-knuckle-covered fists.
I had two broken fingers. A couple cracked ribs. A nose that would probably never look right again. My eyes were swollen, but I could see the open warehouse space where he’d brought me had gotten darker as the hours passed. Add to that, my hands felt numb where the zip ties he’d used to secure my wrists cut into the skin.
But none of that mattered.
I’d told Beth I was going out to get coffee and I never came back. Not a word. Not a signal. There would be absolutely no reason for her to think I’d run into Dmitri the Douchebag in the States. Everyone had already told her the situation with her father was over. That she was safe.
At least his anger was directed toward me and not her. He wanted to inflict some pain. He wanted to feel like a big man again because Marta had said she liked my dick better than his.
And I’d never even fucked the woman.
“Done?” Dmitri asked, sitting on a backwards facing chair in front of me. “My friend, I’m just getting started.”
“Look, you and I both know you’re not going to kill me. It would cause too many bureaucratic headaches. My agency would discover you’re in the country and all those opportunities you have—I’m sure with the Russian mob—would dry up like dust.”
It hurt to talk because every time I did the skin of my swollen bottom lip ripped a little more.
“This is probably true, but I have many more ways I can cause you pain.”
I nodded. “Yeah, but look, could you just hurry it along? Beth probably thinks I bailed on her again and every hour that passes where she doesn’t realize I was kidnapped and tortured is another hour I’m going to need to grovel to make it up to her.”
“Ah yes, your woman. She will think you ghosted her. That is the term, yes? Excellent. This also causes you pain, so I am glad.”
“Sure, but if you’re not going to kill me, eventually she’s going to realize this wasn’t my fault. I’m just trying to speed that up.”
He lifted his hands in the air, exasperated. “You can’t rush an artist.”
“How about this? I’ll tell you the name of the place where I got my dick pierced. You said Marta was all into it. The woman who did it was gentle, too. Didn’t hurt even a little.”
He looked at me skeptically. “This is true?”
Of course it wasn’t true. It hurt like a sonofabitch and I couldn’t fuck for months.
“Absolutely.”
He eyed me critically. “You do look like shit.”
“And I hurt, man,” I said, inflating his ego. “You really worked me over hard. I’m not going to feel right for weeks.”
He seemed to consider that. Then he looked at his swollen knuckles. “I have to take a piss. Then I will come back and decide if you’ve had enough.”
Awesome. He got up from his chair and walked to the other side of the space. There was an office in a corner, and, behind that, there must have been a toilet. With him temporarily gone I considered any options I had for escape, but the zip ties weren’t budging, and the reality was, I didn’t have the energy.
Suddenly there was a break in the darkness, and I heard the squeak of a door opening. Then, like a mirage, I watched as Beth looked around the open warehouse until her gaze finally landed on me.
“Liam!” she cried softly, then came running toward me. “Oh my God. Oh my God. Look at your face.”
