Tortured Soul (7 page)

“If Larz can lead them far enough away, I can set up something to go boom. He just needs to get himself clear and get back to shore. You mind going for a dip ol’ man?” Bomber joked.

“I’m an ex-Navy SEAL, shithead, I could probably take care of this and still beat ya’ll back to the rendezvous,” Larz growled, his eyes narrowed on the ocean before him.

“You alright on your own for a few minutes while I set this up?” Bomber asked.

“Hurry up,” I growled. “And let Gabbie know what’s happening. She needs to get Em ready to move, and Em’s not going to like it, she can’t swim.” Bomber spared me a quick look of disbelief before disappearing.

The speed boats kept a steady chase, firing weapons erratically, trying to cajole Larz into a cramped bay as we passed them. Larz’s skills as a former SEAL, albeit a long damn time ago, meant his heart and soul was forever tied to the water. I trusted him in this situation like no other. He turned the yacht away from the scattered islands and crossed the wide expanse of water to Nassau. The speed boats stopped firing but kept up pace with us, following us, knowing we would eventually have to stop or try and disembark somewhere.

“We good?” I asked Bomber as he knelt by my side again, watching the following boats.

“Good as gold, Boss. Your girl is looking a little pale though.”

I grunted, wishing she didn’t have to go through this at all. Not only would she be terrified that Jonas had men chasing her with guns, but she was about to go for a swim in the ocean that scared her to death.

“Ten minutes and we’re gonna come in pretty fast. I’m gonna pull her port side and slow down a little so the impact won’t be so bad. Ya’ll are gonna need to go under for at least twenty seconds. That’ll give me enough time lead them away.” Larz looked over his shoulder and I nodded in understanding. “Jet will be ready at 0600 hours, you have time to fill in,” he continued to explain.

Bomber gave Larz the detonator which would give him exactly thirty seconds to get clear of the yacht before she went boom as Bomber so delicately put it.

“See you there.” I gave Larz’s shoulder a quick squeeze.

“Will do. Take care of the little lady.”

Bomber and I quickly descended the steps to find Gabbie frantically tearing through the kitchen.

“No time for food, Gabbie. We need to get out of here,” I growled.

Gabbie shot me a dirty look before she ripped a Ziploc bag out of a drawer and stomped over to Emily, who looked pale and scared.

“Your girl didn’t want to leave this behind.” Gabbie grabbed the piece of paper out of Emily’s hand and shoved it in the Ziploc bag, folding it carefully and stuffing it in the pocket of the shorts Emily was now dressed in. It was the new mantra I had given to her before she had gone to sleep.

“Thank you, Gabbie,” I said in a softer voice.

She nodded my way before joining Bomber on the stern. Emily was wearing the black bikini under a thin white shirt, and her feet were bare. I gently took her hand as she looked nervously out the windows. She looked so incredibly young, and so incredibly scared.

“Give me those pretty blue eyes, Malen’kaya.” It was dark inside the boat, but the light from the open door of the bedroom helped light up the cabin a little. Her gaze snapped obediently to mine. “You’re going to take my hand, and you’re not going to let go, got it?” She nodded woodenly. “We have to go in the water, Em.”
I didn’t think it was possibly, but her face paled even more and stark terror filled her eyes. “We have to, it’s the only way, but I’m not going to let anything happen to you, I promise.”

She nodded again. “And Shakhta doesn’t break his promises,” she whispered.

“Damn straight.”

EMILY

We knelt at the back of the yacht, keeping low so the men on the boats following us wouldn’t notice. Larz was still up top and guns still fired intermittently. My heart was hammering so hard in my chest, I thought it might actually burst free. I wasn’t sure what I was more scared of: Jonas’ men, the guns, or the water I was about to jump into. I tried desperately to school my features and bury my fear, but my hand still clenched so hard around Shakhta’s, I thought I might hurt him. It must not have bothered him though because he just pulled me closer and held on tighter.

“When Larz turns us port side, we’ll go in. We need to stay under the water, for twenty seconds, no less.” Shakhta gave Gabbie and Bomber a hard look, and I stopped breathing.

“Sh…Sh…Shakhta?” I stuttered. I wanted to cry, scream and throw myself on the ground in a hysterical fit, but years of forced composure made me hold steady. Shakhta pulled me closer to the side of the boat. Hazy memories of water surrounding me, drowning me threatened to break my composure.

“On the count of three, Em, take a deep breath and hold it.” I began to hyperventilate. “Em!” Shakhta’s voice held a tone of authority. My panicked gaze zeroed in on his dark eyes. “Settle down, I’ve got you.” His hand gripped mine a little tighter to emphasize his point. “On three.” I nodded, took long, deep breaths, and did something that I haven’t done in nearly ten years—I trusted someone. “One…Two…” My heart raced hard and fast. “Three.” Shakhta
yanked on my arm and without enough time to contemplate exactly what was happening, I was surrounded by water. It consumed me, pulling me down into its deadly depths. Panic set in, the will to live hummed loudly in my veins, and I fought to get free of the water’s cool embrace. A strong hand pulled me away from the precious air I was fighting to get at; muscular arms wrapped around me, trapping me. My thoughts slipped into the past and one of the many horrific memories that filled my mind dug its claws in and dragged me under.

Hard hands held my shoulders down, the distorted faces above me watched on with horrific enjoyment. My arms and legs flung about uselessly. Finally, when I thought I would take that much needed gasp for air that would fill my lungs with water, I was released. Breaching the surface, I gasped loudly. After I stopped sobbing, my swollen eyes turned to the monster at my side.

“Let’s try this again, Pet. Who is your master?”

I went to speak and ended up coughing uncontrollably. When I finally settled down, I gazed back into his piercing green eyes. I hated those eyes, but I hated the man behind those eyes even more.

“I have no master,” I growled defiantly.

Following a single nod, my shoulders were forced back down under the water before I had a chance to take a breath. My body was unwilling to let me simply drown even though my heart yearned for it. Again I was released, the question repeated. This time I smiled, but it wasn’t a smile of carefree humor. No, this was a smile full of venom and hate.

“Fuck you, Jonas,” I growled again.

He didn’t even have to nod this time; I was simply pushed back down where I screamed long and loud under the merciless water.

“Em!” yelled a familiar voice that didn’t fill my body with ice cold fear. I could hear someone screaming, the sound was utterly terrifying. My eyes grew wide when I realized the sound was coming from me. I stopped abruptly, and an uncontrollable sob spilled from my lips. Shakhta’s unyielding body held me tightly. I was unable to hold his gaze which saw and knew too much. My eyes lowered to a spot on his shoulder and though I still shook uncontrollably, I was no longer hysterical.

“I’m sorry, Shakhta,” I whispered.

His hand pulled my head close and he wrapped himself around me protectively. I stiffened for a moment until I realized he wasn’t going to hurt me; he was simply trying to offer me comfort, so I accepted it without hesitation. I was desperately uncomfortable in the water, and Shakhta’s body was like an island of solid ground and peace. Over his shoulder I watched the two speed boats follow the yacht away from us. It had been so long since a flashback had dragged my mind to the past. I had held myself firm in a state of fierce emotionless detachment, not allowing my thoughts to flutter over my horrifying memories or hold hope for any kind for a future. The events of the last few days had filled my heart and mind with unfamiliar feelings, and with it the nightmares of my past had been stirred.

“Gabbie, Bomber?” Shakhta called out, pulling me away from my confusing thoughts.

“Here,” answered Gabbie from somewhere behind us.

“My poor baby got all wet,” crooned Bomber as he looked over his gun from beside us.

Meanwhile, I was frozen in Shakhta’s arms, afraid to move for fear he might drop me into the unforgiving water that surrounded us.

“I got you, Em, I promise,” he reminded me with a whisper in my ear. “I want you to move around to my back and hold on. We need to get to shore.”

Though I was reluctant to let him go, I managed to work my grip on him loose enough to maneuver to his back. Repositioned with my arms around his neck, we began making our way to shore, which seemed a little too far away for my liking. I shook, and my limbs trembled with a force that made my teeth chatter. The water wasn’t exactly cold, but I was freezing.

“Sh…Shakhta?” I stuttered.

“Yes, Em?” he murmured calmly.

“I’m p...pretty damn c...cold.”

“Shock, Malen’kaya. Just hold on, okay. We’ll be at the shore in no time,” he confirmed.

“Brai?” came Bomber’s voice from somewhere close by. “What the hell does Shakhta mean?”

I silently thanked Bomber for asking what I was too afraid to.

“You call me Brai again and we’re gonna have words,” grumbled Shakhta. “And it’s none of your business.”

“Awww, don’t be like that. It’s Russian for pooky isn’t it?” Gabbie choked on a laugh from the other side of us. “No? Maybe it means prince of passion. Oh shit, I’ve totally got it—it means sex god, right?”

Braiden shook his head with a long drawn out sigh. “I guess it’s something like sir,” he finally mumbled.

“How the hell do I find a woman who will call me sir?”

Gabbie snorted loudly and obnoxiously. “There isn’t a female on the face of this earth who would call you anything other than
pendejo
.”

“Stupid? That’s the best you got, sweet thing? You’re jealous at the thought of a woman calling me sir, aren’t you?” I could hear the teasing lilt in Bomber’s voice.

“Not likely, pendejo,” Gabbie replied, her Spanish accent unmistakable.

Their playful banter reminded me of the times B and I had argued ourselves into hysterics. B was stubborn and I loved to egg her on. Eventually she would end up in such a hissy fit that all I could do was laugh, and eventually she would, too. I missed that. I hadn’t allowed myself to remember my life before Jonas in a long time. It simply hurt too much. Now, with Shakhta’s trail of emphatic promises, it almost felt possible to believe in my own future. The nostalgic moment at the most inappropriate of times had me resting my head against the back of Shakhta’s neck. I was suddenly very tired; my eyes were heavy and my body was lethargic.

“Don’t you go to sleep back there,” Shakhta gently commanded.

“No, Shakhta,” I quickly replied. Unable to quiet the compelling voice in my mind that demanded I please my Master, I lifted my head and forced my eyes open. From somewhere behind me came an explosion that rocked my head forward, the heat tickling the nape of my neck.

Shakhta spun around quickly. Gabbie and Bomber on either side of us did the same. I was deathly still as I watched the bright explosion dissipate to nothing but a cloud of debris. I whimpered at the thought of Larz who was still on board.

“It’s okay. That was supposed to happen. Larz had time to get away,” Shakhta calmly explained.

“Nice work, pendejo,” Gabbie said from beside us, a note of awe in her voice.

“Gotta love things that go bang,” Bomber confessed with reverence.

“Hurry up, if they’re smart they’ll back track and check the water for us,” Shakhta commanded.

We were soon at the shore, climbing over sharp rocks that cut into my feet. Ignoring the pain was easy, and I kept my face blank.

“Boss?” called Gabbie.

“Uh-huh.”

“The rocks are pretty sharp here, and Emily doesn’t have any shoes on.”

Shakhta stopped immediately, his hand still clasped in mine. “I’m going to carry you, Em, is that okay?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

He scooped me up into his arms easily. Once we reached the sandy shore, he gently placed me down.

“Be nice if we had a fucking light,” he grumbled, the rare cuss word sounded odd coming from his lips. He tenderly tried to inspect the bottoms of my feet. “Do they hurt, Em?” I wiggled my toes, noticing the slight sting. “The truth please,” he quietly added.

“A little, Shakhta, but not enough to stop me from walking.”

When the distant sound of a boat caught his attention, my feet no longer mattered. He pulled me to standing and began to jog up the beach, Gabbie in front, Bomber at our back. When we reached the trees that separated the beach from the island suburbia beyond, we all crouched low and watched the boats move along the shoreline, shining bright lights over the water and beach.

“They’ll see our footprints,” whispered Bomber.

“Let’s move out. We’ll pick up weapons from the hotel and head to the airfield.”

Shakhta, Gabbie and Bomber moved quietly amongst the homes. I followed every step they took, obeying every polite order they gave me. My feet were burning now, so I drew on the meditative techniques I had learned and focused on the pain. I couldn’t stop it from hurting, but I could absorb it, embrace it, and breathe through it with ease. Finding that quiet place in my mind, where I could control my body’s reaction to the discomfort, was effortless. It was one of the most useful things I had learned while in Jonas’ keep.

The streets were dark and still held in the remnants of night, but the sun would soon rise, and with it the locals and tourists would begin to filter from their homes. With Bomber now taking the lead, he maneuvered up and down alleyways, quietly keeping to the shadows. When we reached the large hotel, Shakhta produced a key card which gave us access to the garage to avoid entering through the front doors. Shakhta, Bomber and Gabbie remained tense and focused as we rode the service elevator to the fifteenth floor. I ignored all discomfort and watched them with a detached interest. They were each so different from the people I encountered while with Jonas. They were determined and focused; their eyes observed me with protective vigilance rather than appraisal or dismissal. A part of me found their lack of carnal attention disappointing, the other part of me swooned for the fact they cared for my safety and wellbeing in a completely platonic way. Shakhta glanced at me sideways and I looked up, giving him my full gaze that seemed to please him. The approval I found in his dark eyes made my heart trip over itself. Perhaps not all of them looked at me in a purely platonic way. I knew desire when I saw it—after all, I was an expert—and Shakhta definitely desired me. My body filled with relief. It was a failure on my part if my master didn’t covet me.

The elevator came to a stop and Bomber checked the hall before we followed him out. Swiping the key card once again, we gained entry to a room and quickly filed in. Shakhta pushed down on my shoulders, urging me to sit on the couch while they thoroughly checked the rooms. No one had spoken since we entered the building; the team seemed to work effortlessly together in silence.

“Clear,” murmured Gabbie, walking out of the bathroom.

I’m not sure what was clear or what they were expecting to find, but they all seemed to relax a little at her word. Shakhta pulled a large duffle bag from the closet and pulled the zipper open. It was full of weapons that were quickly handed out. Clean, dry clothes were passed around and they each took a turn at disappearing into the bathroom to quickly change. As they strapped weapons to their bodies, they seemed to relax even more. Shakhta turned to look at me as I watched them move fluently about the room. Seeing his gaze fall my way, I almost dropped to my knees, stopping myself at the last moment. Instead I gracefully rose and gave him my eyes as he had requested. He took three long strides to me and placed his hands on my shoulders.

“Sit down, Em, I want to check your feet.”

I dropped back to the chair as Shakhta carefully inspected the soles of my feet. The smudges of blood on the carpet told me they were cut, and he hissed when he took in their condition.

“Damn it, Gabbie, why didn’t you put shoes on her?” he snapped.

The outburst seemed uncharacteristic for him, and the slightly shocked look on Gabbie’s face confirmed it.

“When she told me she couldn’t swim, I decided to keep her clothing light. I didn’t want her to be frightened of being dragged under the water by the weight of her clothes,” Gabbie said, her voice steady.

“She did the right thing, Boss, it’s what I would have done,” said Bomber, coming to Gabbie’s defense. “There’s a first aid kit on the plane. We can take care of them there.”

Bomber pulled the sheets back on the large bed, and my hands instinctively gripped the couch. Had I got it wrong? Did they expect something from me now that we were here? Did Shakhta intend to share me even though he had promised not to? I watched in confusion as Bomber pulled out a knife and quickly sliced the sheet into strips.