Page 9 of Crimson Wrath

“He won’t know what hit him,” I growl. I’m going to find him. And this time, I won’t stop until the motherfucker is dead.

Chapter 4

Scarlett

The big thug is still glaring at me, fist raised as he waits for my answer.

And I have nothing to tell him because I have no idea what he wants to hear. The full fuckery of my situation has just come crashing down and I don’t know how to deal with it.

This is not my doing.

It’s Anton’s.

And then the phone rings. For a moment, I’m almost certain the guy is planning to knock my lights out before he answers it. Then raising a finger at me as if to tell me to wait, he reaches into his pocket.

Right.

Like I’m going to go anywhere.

“Da?” he says as he answers the call. He listens for a moment, his eyes still on me then rattles off a string of unintelligible words.

Yep. Definitely Russian. I recognize it from the time I spent with Anton.

That bastard!

This is his fucking fault.

If he’s alive, I’m going to kick his goddamn ass.

Oh God, please let him be alive!

“It is your lucky day,” he scoffs at me. “They have what I have been looking for.” With a cruel grin, he adds, “Wait here.”

Asshole.

Without another word, he turns from me and walks off. The cabin door creaks open, then shuts behind him. I hear a key turn in the lock. And then he’s gone. Heart pounding, I hold my breath and strain to listen. His heavy boots thud against the wooden floor, fading into the distance.

When silence falls, I exhale in relief.

Now’s my chance.

Ignoring the ache in my wrists where the cable ties have cut deep, I work my hands free. It’s not an impossible task; with the right pressure, and then a sharp twist, the ties snap quickly - something I learned from my Pops. Still, each second feels like an eternity. If he returns now, all is lost.

He’ll kill me for sure. Though if he has what he was looking for, he’s going to kill me anyway.

Baby…my baby.

The thought of dying has never been more terrifying, knowing that there’s more than just my soul on the line.

As my hands come free, I rub my wrists, biting back a yelp at the sting. No time to waste on pain. I slide from the chair and creep toward the door on silent feet, pausing at each creak of the floorboards. My heart threatens to burst from my chest with each step. The door is locked, but the rusted old mechanism is no match for me. I have it open in under thirty seconds.

Piece of cake.

I peek through the gap. I’m in a small cabin that’s probably not much bigger than the small room that has held me. The interior of what appears to be a living area is dim and still. I can’t see him anywhere.

He’s gone.

I slip through the doorway and melt into the shadows, inching along the wall toward the front entrance. My eyes scan the room, searching for anything I can use as a weapon. There’s nothing. It’s just me and my wits against the Neanderthal if he comes back before I get out of here.

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