My Masters' Nightmare Season 1, Episode 5 Escape by Marita A. Hansen Read Free Book Online

butcher auctions people off to the highest bidder,
regardless of whether his clients kill for sport or
supper.”
    “ Those
tales are urban myths.”
    “ They aren’t,
they’re real; Sasha confirmed them.” He indicated for me to turn
left.
    “ My
sources say differently,” I said, steering the car into the dark
street.
    “ Well,
they’re wrong, because Sasha witnessed what he told me, it’s why he
wanted to escape the Black Russian. I was helping him and his
brother until those bastard Donatelli destroyed everything.” He let
out a pained sigh. “Once the others are safe, we need to get Sasha
back— without the Black Russian’s help. And if Sasha can pretend to his
master that nothing has happened, then it’ll buy us some time,
because we don’t want that butcher coming here. If he finds out what has
happened to his guards he will kill Frano, Sasha has said so. And be assured, it
won’t be with a bullet, it will be long and painful, something no
one...” He breathed out, “...almost no one deserves to
endure.”
    I glanced at him. He was now
staring down at his hands, looking sad. I knew he was thinking about his
rapists, Alberto and the priest definitely deserving a painful
death at the Black Russian’s hands.
    “ No matter
how much Frano fucks me off,” I said, “what happened to those
Russians isn’t his fault.”
    “ It will be
in the Black Russian’s eyes, and nothing will change that, so we
need to kill him as well as get Sophia out.”
    “ No, I need
to take the Russian to the FBI, my famiglia still has unfinished business with
them,” I said slowly, my brain working twice as much, making sure I
didn’t trip over my lies.
    “ The
Black Russian is too powerful, the only way he’ll go down is
through death, and I’ll be the one who’ll take him there. If he
wants to bed me, I will give him the last orgasm he’ll ever
have.”
    “You can’t, you’ve been
abused enough.”
    “ I won’t be
the one dying ,” he said, indicating for me to turn right.
    I steered into the dark road, wondering
whether his plan was better than mine. In all likelihood it
probably was, and could possibly save more lives, especially since
my way wouldn’t be instantaneous, the red tape alone a major
hindrance.
    Jagger pointed to my
right. “Turn
down there.”
    I did what he said. The road
was long and straight allowing me to pick up speed. I could see
that Jagger was growing more and more agitated as the minutes
ticked by—probably over the possibility of his family getting hurt.
He was tapping his leg, constantly looking at the odometer, no
doubt wanting me to go faster, but he kept quiet, only his actions
telling me to hurry up.
    A bout twenty minutes later we finally
turned into his driveway, which practically kissed the shore, the
shimmer of the moon dancing across the water. I pulled the car in
front of the large Mediterranean-styled house. Only a few lights
were on inside with no sign of disturbance. Jagger and I jumped out
of the car, Jagger faster than me, my nerves about seeing Frano
again kicking in. I shoved the feeling deep down inside of me, and
ran after Jagger, grabbing his arm before he entered the
house.
    “ Remember, ” I said quietly, “don’t tell them who I really
am, then we can both get my sister back.”
    “ Okay, but
l et
me take the lead.” He freed his arm and grabbed my wrist. Still
clutching the gun I’d given him, he pulled me inside. “Thierry!” he
called out, heading for the main staircase. “Frano!”
    Footsteps answered, the sound
coming from the passage on the other side of the dining-room.
Jagger practically dragged me around the table, no doubt eager to
see his brother and cousin. As he neared the door he stopped
suddenly, letting out a yell. In the passage doorway stood Alberto.
His face was swollen and red, his appearance even more hideous than
usual.
    Letting go of me, Jagger lifted the
gun and fired at him, causing Alberto to retreat into the
passageway.