Page 94 of The Madman and his broken Princess
“I have no other plans, so I’d love to. Let me put on more sensible shoes.” I quickly dashed into the cloakroom and changed into a pair of white sneakers. They’d get dirty too, but they were a better choice than the white and gold sandals, pumps, and ballerina flats I owned.
Sasha and Lev waited for me at the back entrance of the kitchen. I had never left the house through it and was surprised to find our garbage cans as well as a small herb and vegetable garden hidden behind a wooden fence. I followed the two men down the pathway toward the enclosures. Sasha must have chided his nephew because he didn’t try talking to me again.
We went into the cheetah house first. Lev shoved up his sleeves and began to load the chunks of meat onto the chopping board. My eyes lingered on the bruising in the crook of both his arms. Sasha took out bottles with food supplements for the animals, then turned. His eyes darted to the bruises, and his face fell. He stalked toward Lev and gripped him by the scruff. He growled something in Russian under his breath. Nestore had mentioned that he was half Russian and half Italian. Lev ripped away and reached for the wooden meat tenderizer beside the chopping board.
I screamed a warning, but it was too late. Lev hit Sasha over the head with it. He sagged to the floor. I couldn’t tell if he was dead, and I didn’t have time to find out because Lev turned his attention to me. With the tenderizer in one hand, Lev advanced on me.
“My husband will kill you in the most brutal way possible if you hurt me,” I warned him as I backed away.
“Your husband isn’t here, and he’ll think you ran off. The cats will eat your corpse, and by the time the Bratva delivers your smashed-in head to him, I’ll be in the Caribbean with a never-ending supply of cocaine and girls.”
Was he going to kill me with the tenderizer? Not the most painless death. My heart thundered in my chest as fear tightened my muscles. But I wasn’t a stranger to fear or pain, and I definitely wouldn’t let this junkie smash my skull in.
The meat tenderizer raised above his head, Lev cornered me. He cut off my way to the only door of the house. I moved sideways, trying to come up with a plan. “What about Sasha?”
“The cats will eat him, too.”
“He’s your uncle,” I said, appalled. Not that I wasn’t familiar with cruelty within the closest family.
“My family despises me for doing drugs. They keep locking me up in rehab facilities.”
“Because they care.”
He grinned. “You can stop talking. I won’t spare you. This is the deal of a lifetime.”
My gaze crossed the hooks dangling from the ceiling. They looked sturdy enough to carry a huge chunk of meat, even if I’d only seen them with rabbits. Lev wasn’t very tall, and he waslanky. The hooks might carry him. But how would I attach him to the hook?
I backed away toward the wall panel that operated the flap and the hooks, then climbed the step toward the elevated platform.
“You can’t run,” he said with a sneer.
“I don’t want to,” I said, with a hard smile, which caught him off guard. He paused briefly, then raised the tenderizer over his head. He wore a wide leather wristband on his raised arm. This might work. When he stood right in front of the platform, I used my chance and jumped at him. But the momentum and his lack of strength sent us toppling backward and slamming into the wall. Despite his lankiness, he was stronger than me, but he was obviously not used to fighting. I sank my teeth into his cheek as hard as I could, drawing blood but pulling back before I tore his flesh off. He screeched and covered his cheek with his free hand. I snatched at the hook. I could only move it about ten inches down by the tight wire rope. Using his moment of agony, I gripped his arm with both hands and slid the leather wristband over the hook. His eyes shot open, and he stared up at his hand still holding the meat tenderizer, now attached to the hook. He lashed out at me, but I stumbled back before he could reach me and slammed my fingers down on the two buttons that Nestore had used to open the flap and move the hooks.
With a groan, the steel flap at the top slid open, and the hook began moving, dragging Lev backward with it. Unfortunately for him, the opening near the ceiling meant he slammed into the wall. The hook creaked, the engine roared, then it jerked Lev off his feet. The angle at which his arm hit the edge of the opening twisted it, and a sickening crunch sounded. Lev’s face filled with agony, but any sound was knocked out of him as the wire moved farther and dragged his body up and then through the opening. I hurried toward the window to watch as he dropped down, stilldangling from the hook by the leather wristband. His arm was twisted at the elbow, his shoulder was luxated, and his wrist was bleeding from an open fracture. His feet and knees slid over the ground as the machine dragged him through the enclosure. He screamed and tried to get his footing—to no avail.
The cheetahs had abandoned their hunt and trotted after him, obviously unsure what to do with their unusual prey. Cheetahs were too shy of humans. I wished he were in the tiger habitat. I paused, stunned by my vengeful thoughts, but I realized I didn’t feel any pity for the man who had tried to kill me brutally so he could have a lifetime supply of drugs. And not just me, but also his uncle.
I chanced a look over my shoulder at Sasha’s still unmoving form. Hopping off the platform, I moved to his side and got down on my haunches, then pressed my fingers to his throat. I immediately found his pulse. After years of checking on Nestore in the same manner, I was an expert. Blood trickled from a laceration at his hairline above his forehead, and a fat lump was forming. That he was alive didn’t mean he’d stay alive. A head injury was no joke.
I reached for the walkie-talkie attached to the back of his belt. I had never used one before, but I had watched the staff doing it on occasion. I pressed a big button on the side that I’d seen others use before they spoke into the walkie-talkie. “This is Amelia Romano. I’m in the cheetah house. Sasha and I were attacked by his nephew. He needs reinforcements.”
The line crackled, then a distorted voice sounded. “Reinforcements are on the way. Get to safety.”
I glanced over my shoulder into the enclosure, where Lev was still being dragged around in a wide circle. He was crying. He wasn’t even trying to remove his wristband or get off the hook in another fashion. How could he give up this quickly?
His bad. His death wouldn’t be pleasant.
Sasha groaned.
“Hey,” I said quietly. “Don’t move. You have a head injury.”
Sasha’s eyes slid open, then widened. He grimaced, his eyes going cross for an instant before they focused on me once more. He tried to get his arm under himself to push up, but failed. “Don’t move!” I ordered. “You’ll make it worse.”
“I need to protect you.”
I let out a laugh. “It’s a little too late for that. I handled your nephew.” I pointed toward the enclosure, and Sasha followed my gaze. He sagged back. “That’s why he made you his wife.”
I pursed my lips but didn’t have time to dwell on the comment as the door to the enclosure slammed open and four armed guards stormed in. Rodolfo rushed to my side and pulled me to my feet.
