Prisoner (Russian Tattoos Book 2) by Kat Shehata Read Free Book Online Page B

fists.”
    “Oh, God. How terrible. I’m so sorry.”
    “When I step in the ring, I trick my brain to think my opponent will hurt my sisters if I fail.” He pointed to the scratch tats on his shoulder. “One tattoo for each win.” He lifted his fists. “I fight to keep Mari and Ruslana alive. If I fail, there is no one left to save them.”
    No wonder he wants to get his family out of Russia. “Good for you, Dmitri. I have no doubt you’ll save your sisters.” I lifted my glass. “To getting the hell out of Russia.”
    He repeated the toast and clinked my glass.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter 8
     
     
    Pummeled
     
    After our morning workout, I showered and changed into one of my breezy beach dresses I had packed for Punta Cana. Dmitri charged me with preparing lunch while he took his turn in the bathroom. I had hoped this was a sign that he trusted me not to run off, but he had issued a stern warning and let me know there were surveillance cameras in every room—except the bedroom—and armed guards stationed outside the door. If I made any attempt to escape or tried anything stupid, I would have to face the Wrath of Boris.
    Message received.
    I pulled out a bowl of soup from the fridge, poured it into a cast iron pot, and set it on the stove to heat. I placed a loaf of bread and some accoutrements in the center of the table and opened a can of black caviar for Dmitri. While I was in survivor mode, I recognized the sharp lid from the can would’ve made a nice shiv, but knowing I was being monitored, I tossed it in the trash receptacle. I didn’t have it in me to use it as a weapon, anyway. I wanted to outsmart Dmitri so I could escape, not slice him open and watch him bleed to death.
    While the soup warmed, I got out the colored pencils Dmitri had provided so I could color to pass the time and worked on a picture in his sketchbook. He said he had hidden something that represented Vladimir in his latest creation, but I couldn’t figure out what he was referring to.
    I surmised that a crow that appeared in every scene was Kiki, so I colored the tips of her wings hot pink. While I was in my coloring zone, the outside door clanged open. Boris? Dmitri had said he was coming for dinner. But why was he here in the middle of the afternoon?
    Heavy footsteps pounded through the interrogation room. I heard the digital keypad chime, then the door flew open and a grisly man with pockmarked cheeks and steely blue eyes stomped into the room. Oh, God. The Ovechkin Bratva! I leaped off the couch to race to the bedroom, but he tackled me to the floor and slapped duct tape across my mouth to silence my screams.
    A second man stomped past my attacker. Something was in his hand—a gun. And it was aimed at my bedroom door.
    He must know Dmitri is in there.
    I kicked my legs and thrashed my body, but the pockmarked guy was as thick and solid as a tree trunk. He picked me up and tossed me over his shoulder like a limp noodle. Terror settled in that I was no match for those brutes. With his gun drawn, the second guy led the way as my handler carried me through the living room.
    Get out of the shower, Dmitri!
    I pounded on Pockmark’s back, but my measly fists did nothing to deter him. I was upside down and my head was bobbing as he cut through the room, but I had my wits about me and knocked the lamp off the side table. The room went black. I prayed the tinny sound of glass shattering was enough to get Dmitri’s attention, or at least the darkness might slow down the intruders.
    The gunman used the light from his cellphone to lead the way to the exit door. I grabbed my handler’s ratty ponytail and used my bodyweight to rear his head back, breaking his stride for a beat. He retaliated by punching me in the side and bouncing me while I was upside down and bent over his shoulder, knocking the wind out of me. I let go of his hair and grasped his shirt to hold myself steady.
    Where were the guards that were supposed to be