Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
“Lia!”
I open the window and raise my voice, screaming, “Help! Help!”
Immediately, men start yelling from the darkness, “Miss?”
“The second house!” I scream. “There’s a man here with a gun!”
The door crashes open, and the man rushes in. My heart has never hurt from beating so hard, but that’s what it does now. It starts clamping in my chest like an angry fist. Then Mila steps in front of me, her hands raised.
“Don’t,” she says, her voice cracking.
“Get out of the way.”
“Killing her wasn’t part of Dad’s plan!”
“I’m going to take her like he told me to.” The man’s voice trembles when the main front door busts open. “Move, Mila.”
“What would my dad do if you killed me?”
“Without his permission? Nothing good. Move.”
The callous statement chills me right down to my core. Mila’s dad wouldn’t be mad if he killed her, just without his permission. That’s so sick. I feel sorry for her despite the circumstances.
“N-no,” Mila says, her voice bleeding bleak fear, her body trembling, but she doesn’t budge.
Then, there are footsteps in the hallway. Several men rush into the room, all holding guns, all with chunky upper bodies as though they are wearing bulletproof vests. They surround the gunman, one of them snapping something. The gunman slowly puts down his weapon.
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” he says as the men shove his hands behind his back and wrestle him to his knees. “Your father is going to kill me for this.”
“Don’t worry about the Petrovs,” a burly man grunts, then punches the man across his face with a loud, meaty whack noise. “Worry about the Sokolovs.”
As they drag him from the room, Mila turns to me, her hands clasped together, eyes downcast as though she’d rather look at the floor than into my eyes. Moving forward, I gently lay my hand on hers.
“It’s okay,” I whisper. “I don’t have family, but I would’ve done the same if I did.”
“I just wish he’d stop,” she says, shuddering. “I wish he’d let us all go—me, my brother, the city, just everything.”
It feels weird to lean forward and wrap my arms around her. It feels almost like I’m going too far, overstepping a mark, maybe, but I can’t ignore her pain, either. As I embrace her, it’s difficult to remember that she’s supposed to be my competition.
The men drag the gunman from the room, leaving us alone. A moment later, more footsteps rush up the stairs. It’s Mikhail, his hair wild as it flops across his face. He runs into the room and stops short, looking at Mila and then at me.
After a pause, he says, “Are you both okay?”
“We’re fine,” Mila murmurs. “I…” She glances at me. “I’ll let you tell him.”
“Some freak working for the Petrovs tried to kidnap us,” I tell him.
“Because I told him I’d help,” Mila says, hanging her head.
“What, why?”
“Drake,” she whispers, then coughs back a sob as though just saying his name is enough to break her emotions into tiny, fragile pieces.
“We’ll get him back,” Mikhail says. “I promise.”
“Yeah, you’ve said that,” Mila snaps, “but nothing’s changed.”
Mila storms from the room, leaving me and Mikhail on our own. Mikhail sighs and runs a hand through his wild hair. “What?” he says after a pause. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
I avert my gaze, shaking my head. “Like what?”
He laughs gruffly. “What has Mila told you?”
“Nothing. Why? What is there to tell?”
“Dimitri’s on his way home,” Mikhail says. “It’s been a wild night for us all, but I need to go now.”
“Yeah, Mila needs you.”
“No,” he grunts. “I’m going to talk to our friend, the tough guy kidnapper. Let’s see what he has to say.”
Mikhail leaves, fists clenched, looking similar to his brother from behind, except for the hair and the fact that Mikhail doesn’t make me ache or need him. I sit on the bed, feeling deflated after everything that’s happened.
A few minutes later, Ania appears at my door. She looks sleepy, her hair wild. “Are you okay?” she asks softly. “I heard the commotion.”
I search her for any sign that she remembers what happened: the sleepwalking and the mom stuff. She sits beside me on the bed, taking my hand. It feels weirdly natural. It takes my mind to emotional places, like wondering what it would be like to have a sister and a family.
“We live in a crazy world, don’t we?” she says with a world-weary note in her voice. With the lights low, it’s easy to believe she’s much older than she is. “I’m happy to stay with you until Dimitri gets home.”
“Sure, Ania. Thanks.”
“You don’t have to thank me. I don’t want to leave you alone right now.”
I move closer to her, my body suddenly tired, as if everything has just caught up with me. The need I can’t stop feeling for Dimitri gets even deeper. I want him here, to feel his strong, muscled arms around me, to know I’m safe. Forever.