Dirk: A Stepbrother Romance(9)
“We have the girl. You know what we want. Let's make a deal.”
Chapter 12
When Katherine awoke, she squinted in the darkness. The cool night air was chilling her, and she could vaguely make out the dark shapes of three men lurking about in the dark green foliage. They were speaking in a foreign language that she recognized, but it wasn't until she was fully conscious that she pinpointed it. They were speaking Russian.
She began to squirm, hoping to free herself from her captors, but discovered in dismay that she was tied up. Katherine fought the urge to panic and stifled her intuitive desire to scream, and instead began to wriggle herself into an upright position. One of the men noticed and moved lankly toward her. It was the same man whose ugly face had sneered down at her before she had been abducted. Her eyes widened with fear when he pulled out a knife and circled it against his fingertip in front of her face.
“You do funny thing and we cut you,” the man said, his broken English caked by a heavy accent. “If you don't behave, you get hurt. Understand?”
She nodded, realizing suddenly that she was gagged and unable to speak. The man seemed satisfied at his intimidation tactic and returned to the other two men. They began conversing in Russian again and seemed to completely forget about her. She looked around, weighing her options. If she stood, she may stand the chance of running. But it was likely that they had guns and wouldn't be afraid to use them on her. Besides that, she would have to remove the rope that was binding her legs and hands together to be of any use at all. It seemed as if she was stuck there.
She fought the urge to cry, wishing desperately that somebody would notice she was missing soon.
Dirk grabbed his handgun and headed out the door. He could vaguely recall the direction he thought the voice had come from, and so he took a deep breath and closed his eyes briefly, willing himself to go in the right direction. He hadn't even bothered to dress, or even slip on shoes for that matter, but he was confident he would come to no harm. He knew the island inside and out, and although he had his own estate on the other side of the world, as far as he was concerned, this was his home. It was where he had grown up.
A gentle wind blew his long hair back, and he noticed it was blowing in the direction he thought he had heard the man's laughter. He took it as a sign, and on good faith headed in that direction. He hadn't even bothered to dress or slip on shoes. He pointed the gun out ahead of him and began marching steadily through the foliage.
He saw a quick movement ahead of him and tensed up, peering deeply into the darkness. The leaves rustled and he aimed his gun steadily, ready to fire. A large hare hopped out and bounded away into the darkness, and he lowered the gun in relief. He would much rather go in for a sneak attack. He had learned a long time ago how to move quietly through the island, virtually undetectable, and had every intention of utilizing this technique to his advantage.
Finally, he heard a hushed voice in the distance and stopped moving so he could hone in on it. It was a deep, masculine voice. It sounded taunting, and he suddenly heard the pitiful squeals of a woman in distress. But not just any woman. The woman who had been on his mind day in and day out since the moment he met her. His blood reached its boiling point, and he lifted the gun firmly, ready to aim with intent to kill.
Dirk crept slowly in the dark, moving to a better vantage point. He saw three men, two of whom were off in the distance, speaking conspiratorially together, and the other who was kneeling in front of Katherine, dragging a blade lightly over her flesh. She winced and tried to squirm away, but she was tied up and unable to escape. This sent Dirk over the edge. He aimed his gun and prepared to fire.
Chapter 13
Katherine pulled away from the disgusting man. He had begun to fixate on her, and the other two men simply let him. They continued their deep conversation, ignoring her cries of pain and squeals of protest. The man—she thought she had heard him referred to as Pasha—was dragging his knife across her flesh, lightly at first, and then harder and harder until it began to break through her skin. She was doing her best not to scream, which was obviously what he was hoping for, when suddenly a loud gunshot rang throughout the island.
One of the men by the trees fell to the ground, blood seeping through his green sweater. Katherine's eyes widened in disbelief as Dirk leapt out of the foliage with a gun drawn and shot the other man near the trees. It happened so swiftly that she hadn't even had a chance to respond. Suddenly, Dirk was in front of them, his half-naked body glimmering in the moonlight. His chest heaved up and down, and she was captivated by the primal fire in his eyes. His body moved languidly, like a panther about to strike, and he held the barrel of the gun against Pasha's head.
Katherine flinched backward and closed her eyes, sure she was going to have the man's blood and guts all over her soon, but nothing happened. She opened her eyes again as Dirk glowered down at Pasha.
“Drop the knife,” he demanded.
Pasha's hand shook violently, and he sat the knife gingerly on the ground.
“Kick it over to me,” Dirk said, his silver eyes hard and ruthless.
Pasha did as he was told, and Dirk bent over to pick up the knife. He made his way around Pasha, keeping his gun drawn on him as he moved, and knelt beside Katherine to examine the wounds on her arm.
“Death is too good for you,” Dirk sneered, gripping the knife tightly.