Thorne Princess(103)

No. No. No. No.

The feet disappeared in my periphery. I couldn’t follow his location without shifting around and making a noise. Everything was quiet. I didn’t dare to breathe. Suddenly, a pair of hands grabbed my ankles from behind and dragged me out from under my bed. My fingers automatically clawed onto the rug.

I jerked forward, bumping my head against the bedframe in the process.

Kicking his hands off in an attempt to fight back, I started screaming. The man flipped me onto my back, grunted in annoyance, and pressed his palm over my mouth. My teeth dug into his skin. The metallic tang of blood exploded in my mouth. He didn’t relent. In fact, he laughed.

Laughed and laughed and laughed.

He’s not Craig. He’s not going to hurt you like that. Pull yourself together.

The man’s face came into focus, as I blinked the white dots of adrenaline away. Even without ever meeting him, I knew it was Kozlov himself. His face was scarred in deep, purposeful slashes. Knife wounds. His eyes were very small and very black. Two raisins full of hatred.

With a swift bark in Russian, he made the person next to him pull me up to my feet. The man patted me down for devices and weapons. Dizzy on my feet, I prayed he wouldn’t find my phone. Halting on my pockets, the man took a step back and shook his head.

I let out a ragged exhale. He’d missed it.

Glancing around the room, I tried to look for something to attack the two men with. Kozlov’s assistant, in the meantime, brought together both my arms behind my back and bound them with thick black tape. I wanted to throw up. I’d never felt so helpless in my life.

You had to send your bodyguard away, didn’t you? All because you were jealous and petty and childish.

Although, it was also true that he brought trouble right to my doorstep, and if I made it out of this alive, I should destroy his career, for that alone, as punishment.

Kozlov turned on his heel and made his way down the stairs. This was my chance to try to take down his assistant. The man shoved me from behind toward the stairs. I complied, hoping he’d loosen his guard on me. But when we got to the edge of the stairs, I managed to slam my body into his, pushing him down. He gripped the bannister quickly with one hand, using his spare to sink his fingers into my hair. He tugged violently, lurching me toward his mouth. My scalp burned.

“Behave, little girl,” he commanded in a thick accent. And I didn’t know why, but hearing him speak in English made everything so much more real and frightening.

Chances were high, I wasn’t getting out of this alive.

On our journey downstairs, I noticed all of my Nest cameras had been covered. Kozlov had cased the house beforehand, probably when Ransom and I were in Texas. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be familiar with their locations.

“I don’t know where he is,” I groaned when I noticed Kozlov standing by the door, waiting for his soldier and me. “I’ll be no help.”

Kozlov smiled serenely, half-patting half-slapping my cheek. “He’ll come for you. You mean something to him.”

Jesus. How closely did they follow us?

Black cloth wrapped around my eyes from behind, secured firmly in a double knot. I was shoved outside, into a car—not a spacious one by the feel of it—where I sat quietly while three voices conversed in Russian.

Sorting hysterically through my jumbled thoughts, I tried figuring out what they wanted from me. I was obviously a means to an end. Something to lure Ransom into their territory. Then again, I doubted they’d spare my life if things went sideways.

The drive was excruciatingly slow, but I didn’t know if it was because they’d taken me far, or on account of my nerves being shot.

When the car finally came to a stop, I didn’t know whether to feel relief or renewed fear. The door to the back seat flung open. The person who sat next to me got out first, pulling me along. Since I sat in the middle, I felt the person behind me poking my back, egging me on.

“Where are you taking me?” I hiccupped. “I’m President Thorne’s daughter. If you think you’ll get away with this, you’ve got another thing coming.”

Even to myself, I sounded like a weak side character in a slasher film, destined to die quickly and painfully to move the plot along.

I heard Kozlov chuckling near me. “Relax.”

“Are you serious right now? You want me to relax?”

He didn’t answer.

We went up a flight of stairs. Each step I took felt like I was nearing a death sentence.

The place smelled weird. A mixture of dust, food, and old wool. I wondered where we were. How close we were to civilization.

“When will you take my blindfold off?” I tried to keep my voice calm. Keep the conversation going. Remind them that I was human, and innocent.

“Soon.” Kozlov sounded almost cheery.

“You don’t expect him to come here, do you?” I asked. “He doesn’t know where this place is.”

“I don’t,” he confirmed. “I plan on dangling you in front of him somewhere else. Once I decide on the details.”

“And if he doesn’t take the bait?” My voice echoed in an empty, dank room. A shove to my shoulder made my ass meet a hard wooden chair. Someone behind me untied my blindfold.

Kozlov stood in front of me, chuckling as he opened his arms. “Then I suppose the bait would become useless to us.”