Taken by the Russian Page 7

  So I learned. I taught myself breathing exercises so I could let Anya sob in my arms without doing something to break my vow. Some nights, I even slept on the floor beside her bed, talking her through bad dreams, all while being tortured with bare thighs, her smooth, little bottom as she tossed and turned. By the time she turned sixteen and regularly began sneaking into my room during thunderstorms, I’d built up enough strength to withstand the fierce, consuming need to possess her. Soon, I would tell myself.

  Bottom line, it has been Anya and me for five years. We are one. I’m not sure what kind of father David was before I arrived, but he behaved like an irresponsible piece of shit when his daughter needed him. I will not forgive him for that. And I feel no guilt in making her my wife without his knowledge or consent.

  Anya has wished him to be informed, however. It will make her pleased with me. So it will be done. Because it seems at age thirty - five, I can still learn new tricks.

  Beneath the desk, my cock grows painfully thick, and I grip the hard flesh through my pants, thinking of the angel waiting for me once I finish this phone call. She will ask me if I’ve done as she requested, and I will answer by unzipping my pants. Ripping her out of whatever flimsy item of clothing she’s decided to tease me with today. Her smile will be the best part of all. If that’s not motivation to complete this unpleasant task, nothing is.

  Snatching up the phone, I dial David’s number. He answers on the third ring.

  “David Orlov.”

  “Da.” I twist my neck to crack it. “This is Sasha.”

  “Sasha!” A television blares in the background. “I was wondering when I would hear from you. How did the college drop - off go?”

  “There was a change of plans.”

  A pause. “What do you mean?”

  Annoyed at having to explain myself, I drum my fingers on the desk. “Are you aware, David, that the agreement we made five years ago concluded last night at five o’clock?”

  “Agreement…” I can almost see the light bulb going off. “Keeping Anya safe from my enemies, you mean?” His voice is guarded now. “Yes, I figured taking her to college would be your final task, before you returned here for work. Work more suited for someone of your experience.”

  “There was more to the agreement. You know this well.”

  The television is lowered as it dawns on him. The most difficult part of our agreement to keep was keeping Anya innocent of men. Innocent of myself. “All right,” he shouts. “What the fuck is going on?”

  “First of all, please accept my resignation. Now. As an ex - employee, I find your language…threatening.” I lower my tone. A tone that many men have heard just before meeting their end. “You really don’t want to threaten me.”

  There’s some harsh breathing from David. “Where’s my daughter?”

  “Probably resting.” I massage my rigid dick. “She needs it badly.”

  He sputters. “You — you’re fucking her. I can’t believe this.”

  “Language,” I remind him, red pinpricks beginning to dot my vision. “You will listen very carefully. Anya is mine. I’ve cared for her when you would not. Despite my suffering, our vow remained intact until the agreed upon time. Any claim you had on her is hereby revoked.”

  “You — ” Heavy pacing thunders down the line. “What about college? Who do you think will pay for that?”

  “My accountant is putting a check in the mail reimbursing you for her tuition as we speak. You should receive it in the next day or so. I pay for all her needs now.” He begins to inquire about my finances, but I interrupt him. “You’ve been informed. Now I must go tend to my wife.” David stops breathing on the other end, his shock palpable. “She’s turning out to be quite insatiable. Just as I was hoping.”

  “Jesus.” There’s a long pause. “Okay, look. Maybe I just need some time to get used to the idea of you and Anya together. Truth is, you’re my best debt collector, Sasha. I’ll let you keep the girl if you come back to work. No one else is remotely cutting it.”

  “Let. Me. Keep her? Have you heard nothing I’ve told you?” I come to my feet, wishing for something to smash with my fists. “My ring is on her finger. She’s as good as bred.” He says nothing in response to that, and after I moment, I realize he’s still waiting for my answer. Whether or not I’ll come back to work. As always, his daughter comes in second place to his money and business dealings. Bastard. “You are too stupid to realize she’s the greatest treasure of all. If I have my way, you’ll never see her again.”

  “So is that a no…?”

  I hang up and toss my phone onto the desk in disgust. An urgency storms through me. I must go find Anya and tell her she is important. That she is the most precious thing in the whole world and I will cherish her until my dying breath. She needs to know.

  But when I leave my office, I immediately sense something is wrong. The usual buzz of Anya’s energy is missing from the air. As are my car keys from the peg near the door.

  When I stride to the front window and see my car is missing, my heart leaps from my chest. No. NO.

  “Anya!”

  That’s when I see the note folded on the living room coffee table. Like a desperate, dying man, I grab it and read.

  Don’t freak out.

  I’m only at orientation, where I’m supposed to be.

  This is the only way to make you understand how important school is to me. That I will go at all costs — even turning you into an ogre. You can’t control every move I make, Sasha.

  I will return to you tonight.

  I will return to you every night, because I love you.

  Nothing bad is going to happen.

  Your Anya

  Stumbling back, I read the note again. You can’t control every move I make.

  I did this?

  Yes. Loving her, giving her a beautiful life was my aim, but I drove her away instead. I didn’t learn how to compromise fast enough. How many times did she stare out the window as a growing girl and sigh, asking me what the other girls her age were doing? Countless times. She has been a prisoner her whole life, now I’ve done it to her again.

  Turning my head, I stare out the window at the world beyond, going through a horrifying checklist of everything that could happen to my wife without me to protect her. By virtue of being kept sheltered so long, Anya has no idea what monsters lurk around every corner. But I do. I know too fucking well. And I can no more sit here waiting for her to come home like a patient husband than I could stop breathing.

  Chapter Ten

  Anya

  I can barely catch my breath I’m so excited.

  I’ve never seen this many faces, heard this many voices, all in one place. The college dean has just concluded her speech at the front of the room. There are packets in my hand. Who knew I could get so jazzed about packets? They contain vital information I’ll need for my first day of classes. A campus map, dining hall protocol, freshman FAQs.

  My heart speeds into a dizzying rhythm in anticipation of reading through it all.

  But it slows back down to a dull thud when I think of Sasha at home. He must be going out of his mind. Was I too impulsive? In a matter of one day, he’s shown so much progress in learning to meet me halfway, maybe I should have trusted him to be reasonable. At the very least, I could have persuaded him to come with me to orientation so he could see how non - menacing an auditorium full of nervous freshman is in reality.

  If I had a cell phone like a normal person, I would call him now. Let him know I’m okay and heading home. On the drive to school, I only took four wrong turns. Not bad for my first time using GPS, right?

  Maybe I’ll leave that part out.

  “Hey.”

  I turn to find a group of fellow freshman approaching, some male, some female. They’re all smiling. At me. “Uh…” I adjust my load of glorious packets. “Hi.”

  “I’m Carter,” says one of the boys. “And you are?”

  I try to pretend I don’t notice
him staring at my breasts, but it becomes increasingly difficult when he keeps staring. All of the boys are staring, I slowly realize. The girls don’t seem to like it, either, sending each other knowing glances. Or maybe I’m totally imagining all of this, because I have zero experience around people my own age. Weren’t they smiling seconds ago? “Anya,” I say finally. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Beautiful name, beautiful girl,” Carter murmurs. “Are you going to the party?”

  “I — there’s a party?” Subtly as possible, I block their view of my breasts with the stack of packets. Is it okay for him to call me beautiful? Sasha wouldn’t think so. “I didn’t know about any party, but I can’t come this time. My husband is waiting for me.”

  Their jaws drop. “Husband?” asks a girl to my right. “How long have you been married?”

  “About a day,” I respond honestly, wishing I was back at home with Sasha. Their open scrutiny is making my face bright red. I can feel it. “So, I guess I’ll see you around — ”

  “Just come for a little while,” Carter says, taking a step closer to me. “My brother is a junior here. The party is at his frat house.” He shrugs. “You can leave any time.”

  Oh my God. A frat party? I read about these during my new adult romance binge. What would it be like to see one in real life? There could be dancing, fist fights, people making out. What if I just peek in for a second, just to put images to the words I’ve read? Then I’ll leave and go home to my Russian. Already I miss him so much, my chest feels like it’s been trampled.

  “Okay,” I say slowly. “Just for a few minutes.”

  Frat parties are gross.

  I make that judgment as soon as I walk inside.

  It’s dark and reeks of some unknown herb; every surface is sticky and filthy. But that isn’t the worst part. The worst part is the boys. They turn collectively when I walk into the room and rake me with something like…stunned hunger. It makes my pulse beat triple time, makes me edge back toward the door. For so long, Sasha kept my father’s other employees away from me. At first I thought he was going above and beyond the call of duty, but once, when one of the employees got too close, Sasha growled the real reason at me, while carrying me back to my room over his shoulder.

  You do not understand your appeal, Anya. You know that place you keep hidden in your panties? Men would kill for one taste of it. They would throw away their lives to get inside it.

  Of course, I thought that was ridiculous. Heck, I barely understood what he meant.

  But now I’m not so sure he was wrong. And after one day beneath Sasha, I understood all of what he said now.

  I wore a modest sundress and sandals to orientation, but the way every male in the room seems to close in on me, I feel naked. Who is that? they whisper. Is she real? Can you imagine what she looks like under that dress? Fuck.

  When one of the frat guys openly rubs their crotch, I take a startled step backward, running into someone. Carter. He steadies me with a too - tight grip on my elbow. “Hey there. Can I get you a drink?”

  “Uh…sure.” I have no intention of drinking anything in this place, but I want him away from me. I want to get away from everyone, but since I walked in, a thousand freshman have started pushing their way through the door, blocking the exit. Trying to keep my panic to a dull roar, I force a smile onto my face. “I - is there a bathroom?”

  Carter points me in the right direction, and I escape to a small restroom on the east end of the huge room, locking myself inside. Okay. Regroup. I’m going to catch my breath, go back out there and barrel toward the exit like a football player. Nighttime is only starting to fall, so there are plenty of people on campus to make sure I make it to the car safely. I got this.

  Making sure I have all my orientation packets, I throw open the door — and come to a dead stop. Just ahead, Carter holds a red plastic cup in his hand. And he’s dumping something into it. White powder. Is that the drink that’s meant for me?

  Hoping he doesn’t see me, I put my head down and change direction, weaving through the crowd. But a hand clamps around my bicep, drawing me back. “Where do you think you’re going?” Carter asks, looking a lot less friendly than before. “Party is just getting started, Anya.”

  He tries to hand me the drink, but I shake my head. “No, thanks.”

  Another set of male hands slide around my waist from behind, and I yelp, dislodging the unwanted touch and dropping my packets onto the ground. I spin around to find an older - looking guy in a sideways hat, openly ogling me with his eyes. “Damn. Who’s this, little bro?”

  “This.” Carter makes a savoring noise near my ear, his hot breath ghosting over my bare shoulder. “This is Anya. I’m just trying to convince her to have a drink.”

  “A drink.” The older guy laughs. “Right. Good idea.”

  A warning sound blares in my ears, and I lunge sideways, trying to get away from the brothers, but once again Carter snags my arm, keeping me from leaving. “Not so fast.”

  I react on instinct, bunching my fist the way Sasha taught me. Remembering not to tuck my thumb. Before Carter can draw me back toward him and his brother, I rear back and deck him. Blood squirts from his nose and he howls, furious. Seeing my chance to escape, I turn to run at the rapt crowd, but Carter grabs my hair from behind —

  I’m suddenly free, falling forward onto my knees.

  There’s a loud snap. A scream.

  And I turn to find Sasha — my Sasha is here — holding Carter’s clearly broken arm. He tosses it, still attached to its owner, aside, just in time to receive the attack from Carter’s brother. The malice and retribution in my husband’s eyes should scare me, but it doesn’t. It makes me come to my feet and glory in the sight of him wielding a pair of brass knuckles and knocking several teeth out of the frat guy’s head. Without so much as a flinch.

  “Anya,” says Sasha, a blistering chill in his tone. “Are you harmed?”

  “No,” I breathe.

  “Did anyone beside these two children lay a fucking finger on you?” he rasps. “A prompt answer, wife.”

  “No. No. Let’s go home.”

  “Not quite yet.” He wraps a hand around each brother’s neck, lifting them off the ground. Holding them suspended in the air as the roomful of people gasp and back away. “There won’t always be witnesses.”

  With those five lethal words, Sasha slams their heads together and leaves them in an unconscious heap on the ground, blood streaming from ears, noses, mouths. Then he calmly stoops down and collects my packets.

  “I love you,” I whisper, needing to be held. “I’m sorry.”

  When Sasha straightens and looks at me, I realize he’s the furthest thing from calm.

  He’s murderous. And I’ll never get to go to college now.

  Chapter Eleven

  Sasha

  My thirst for blood has not been remotely satisfied.

  Hunger for violence pumps in my veins, rage chokes me and turns my knuckles white on the steering wheel. They touched my angel. They grabbed her. Every time I remember what I witnessed, wrath screams inside my skull again and the cycle starts anew.

  When I walked into the party, I could not find Anya. Already I’d hit a dead end at the orientation hall and was about to return home in my borrowed car, thinking Anya must be headed back, until I overhead some young men discussing the party. My skin prickled, and I never deny an instinct. Anya is curious. If given the chance, she would appease that nature.

  I saw those boys putting chemicals in a drink and was resolving to teach them a lesson, when I found out the drink was for my wife.

  My teeth bare themselves at the road and I can’t keep my ear - piercing bellow inside. Anya flinches in the passenger seat and curls in on herself, whimpering softly, tears wetting her cheeks. There’s nothing I can do about seeing to her comfort yet. She will never know the panic and rage that burned me alive when hands — hands that weren’t mine — touched her skin. In a way that was meant to be harmful. My worst
fucking nightmare come to life.

  From the corner of my eye, I watch Anya swipe at her tears, and my chest seizes. “How did you drive without your car?”

  “You say that with irritation. As if you’re not glad I came.”

  “No. I just needed to ask you something to test if you’re speaking to me.” My righteous anger weakens somewhat in the face of such sweetness. “Of course I’m glad you came, Sasha. You rescued me.” She blows out a breath. “You were right all along to keep me inside where it’s safe. So was my father. I don’t know anything about the world. I was…I was stupid to think it would be easy. Or that I could do it alone.”

  At this point, she’s making it very difficult to be mad. I still plan to murder the boys who laid hands on my wife — no one will miss them — but that is now a separate concern. Anya is my main one. And I’ve never heard her sound defeated in the entire time I’ve known her.

  “Oh, I don’t know…” I cut her a glance and try to sound casual. “You got the drop on Sasha, no? You stole my car and drove two hours before I ever knew you were gone. That should not be disregarded so easily.”

  “So what? None of it matters now.”

  I watch in growing dismay as she rolls down the passenger side window and throws the stack of white envelopes out onto the road. “What are you doing?” I’m already pulling over the car onto the shoulder, watching in the rearview as the papers dance on the road. “For the last fifty miles, you have been so enamored with those envelopes, I was beginning to get jealous, Anya. Now you throw them away?”

  “I thought if I could show you how responsible I can be…and how much I want to go to school, you would reconsider. But you’re not going to let me go back.” She turns away, as if I can’t see her face in the passenger window she just rolled up. More tears. They eat at me, every single one. “They don’t mean anything now.”