Hidden Monsters (Volkov Bratva #4)(92)

It was obvious that these meant a lot to Luka as he had yet to take his eyes off them, but she was worried about the sadness that radiated from him.

“When you get your first lead role, I want you to wear these.”

“Luka…”

“They were my mother’s,” he explained as he swept her hair to the side with one hand, carefully placing one of the combs there. “They meant a lot to her. You mean more than that to me. I can’t give you much that you can’t give yourself, but this a piece of me that I won’t…” He trailed off, and not for the first time, she wished she knew what he was thinking. “Keep these, so you’ll always have a piece of me with you.”

She gave him a shaky smile, nodding though nothing about this felt right. Something was going on with him. Something far beyond what she had originally suspected, and though she had wanted him to come to her about it, she couldn’t wait any longer.

“What’s troubling you, Luka?” She kept hold of his hand before he could pull away. “And don’t say it’s nothing. I know better than that.”

He smiled slightly, just the smallest quirk of his lips. “It’ll all be over soon.”

But that neither answered her question nor quelled her fears.





37

____





The Glass Coffin





Now more than ever, Alex was practicing, spending long hours in the studio so she could get ready for the upcoming audition. And the more time she spent there, the more she improved, and soon she found herself going there just because she missed it. Sometimes, she forgot how empty her life had become since she’d left Paris. Finally, after so long, things were looking up.

Packing up the last of her things, she pulled the strap of her bag on her shoulder and headed for the door.

The journey from the studio back home wasn’t a long one, and Alex had walked it enough times not to worry about the distance, but as her shoes slapped against the concrete sidewalk, loud in the silence of the night, her fingers flying across the screen of her phone, she was too distracted by the text message she was trying to send to notice the van idling at the curb. It took only a few seconds to pass it, and as she cleared the rear of it, the doors came open and a man slipped out silently.

She’d just pressed send, her finger still hovering over that button when large hands grabbed her, a dirty cloth reeking of sweetly-smelling fumes shoved in her face. Her phone clattered to the ground as she reacted immediately and violently, trying to free herself.

Her thoughts scrambled. Every instruction that Luka had ever given her fled from her mind. The only thing she could do was react on instinct, but that wasn’t enough, not when the man was so easily overpowering her. She even tried to hold her breath, but in her panic, she only managed to breathe in more of the fumes.

Vision beginning to blur, strength weakening, Alex tried one last desperate attempt to get free, but it was too late.

She was already caught.

____

Consciousness returned slowly, like her head was stuffed with cotton and she was fighting through it all. She didn’t remember, not at first. It was like the world had ceased to exist, if only for a short time.

For a few precious moments, Alex came awake thinking she was at Luka’s, but as the pungent scent of the earth surrounded her, it all came rushing back. The worst was not knowing how long she had been in there.

Darkness surrounded her on all sides. She had once found comfort in it, but this felt suffocating. She made to sit up but came up short when her hands came into contact with something hard just above her and to her sides.

She knew, without having to see, that she was in a coffin, and from what she could feel, it was made of some kind of hard plastic.

Breathing deeply, she tried not to let the renewed panic get to her. Instead, she made use of her hands, feeling for anything that could help her. Her fingers slipped around something cylindrical, and as she grabbed hold of it and hit the button on the side, yellow light poured from one end of it.

Hand shaking, she aimed it above her and couldn’t stop the cry of alarm from slipping out of her.

Someone had buried her alive.

Reaching over her once more, she laid her hand flat against the surface, pushing with what little strength she had, blood rushing in her ears as she felt it give. Dropping the flashlight, she used both hands now, nearly crying in relief as it moved more, but the hope that had bubbled inside of her was dashed as the top wouldn’t go any further than an inch. Something, something she couldn’t see, was preventing her from moving it any more.

Every last bit of calm she’d tried to muster vanished as desperation seized her as she shoved and kicked—her shoes missing—trying to get it open. If anything, she would pass out from the exertion, but she wasn’t going to give up. This wasn’t how she was going to die. Just as she readied a cry for help, a voice called out and silenced her.

“I wouldn’t struggle too much—wouldn’t want you to waste what little oxygen you have.”

Every part of her rebelled at following that command, but the rational side of her knew that he was right. She had to calm down, and she figured, if he was talking to her, he didn’t plan to leave her down there.

…Maybe.

But maybe was all she had.

Her prison jostled as someone landed on top of it. She didn’t have to wonder who for long as the layer of dirt—not as thick as she had previously assumed—was swiped away, a face appearing above her own.