06- Katya finds a gun

KATYA

We landed in Russia three hours later.

I stared out the window at the gray skies and endless stretch of snow-covered ground while panic clawed its way through my chest again.

This could not be real.

People did not just get kidnapped and flown across the world because their estranged father apparently murdered some mafia boss.

Yet here I was.

My wrists were still tied in front of me though Nikolai had loosened them slightly during the flight after I nearly lost circulation. Not because he cared, I was sure.

Just because dead hostages were probably inconvenient.

The cabin door opened and cold air rushed in immediately.

I shivered violently.

“Move,” Nikolai ordered.

I glared at him but stood anyway because what choice did I have?

The moment I stepped off the plane, two men approached us. Massive men dressed entirely in black.

One of them grabbed my arm roughly.

“Hey!” I snapped, jerking back.

He ignored me completely.

“Nikolai!” another man called in Russian.

They spoke quickly after that, too fast for me to understand.

I suddenly wished I had actually paid attention during the Russian lessons I signed up for on Duolingo three years ago.

Back then it had felt like some fun little way to connect with my roots.

Now it could literally save my life.

Who the hell would have thought I would get kidnapped by Russian psychopaths?

One of the men suddenly bent and threw me over his shoulder.

“What the fuck!” I screamed, pounding against his back instantly. “Put me down!”

Nobody listened.

I kicked wildly as he carried me across the private airfield like I weighed nothing at all.

Cold wind whipped against my face and tangled my hair while humiliation burned through me.

“This is kidnapping!” I shouted.

The man opened the back door of a black SUV and tossed me inside like a damn sack of potatoes.

“Ow!” I hissed as my shoulder slammed painfully against the leather seat.

Nikolai entered right after me, shutting the door calmly.

The engine started immediately.

One of the men up front said something in Russian.

Nikolai answered in the same language, his voice low and cold.

I stared at him from across the seat.

I hated him.

God, I hated him.

He looked completely unaffected by everything that had happened.

I turned my face toward the window, blinking rapidly against the tears trying to form.

Okay.

Think.

Surely Daniel would realize something was wrong by now.

I had disappeared from the hotel. My phone was gone and I had not answered any calls.

Surely he would report me missing.

But then another thought hit me.

Would he?

Daniel would probably think I left because I was angry.

And knowing Daniel, he would get offended.

He would decide to “give me space” and wait for me to call first.

Because that was what he always did.

Everything always had to happen on his terms.

The realization hit harder than I expected.

Five years.

Five whole years wasted on a man who probably would not even notice I had been kidnapped until it inconvenienced him.

What the hell had I even seen in him?

The car sped down a long isolated road lined with dark trees dusted in snow.

Everything looked bleak and dead.

I swallowed hard before leaning forward slightly toward the driver.

“Please,” I said carefully. “Do you speak English?”

No answer.

I tried again.

“Please… I don’t know what is happening. Can you tell me where we are going?”

Nothing…Not even a flicker of acknowledgment.

Panic rose higher up my throat.

“Please help me,” I whispered desperately.

The driver continued staring straight ahead like I did not exist.

I leaned back slowly, wrapping my tied hands around myself.

The silence in the car was unbearable.

Nikolai sat beside me calmly scrolling through his phone while I spiraled into terror.

“How long are you planning to keep me?” I demanded finally.

His eyes lifted briefly.

“That depends on your father.”

“I told you already I do not know him!”

“You are a terrible liar.”

Frustration burned through me so fiercely my eyes watered.

“I am not lying!”

Nikolai merely looked back down at his phone, dismissing me.

Asshole.

The drive continued for what felt like forever before massive black gates finally appeared ahead.

My breath caught.

Beyond them stood an enormous mansion.

No, not a mansion. It was more like a fortress.

Dark stone walls stretched upward beneath the gray sky while armed guards stood outside the gate.

The driver rolled down his window and spoke to security in Russian.

One of the guards looked inside the car at me, his eyes narrowing instantly with pure hatred.

Whatever my father had done… These people truly despised him.

The gate slowly opened and the car rolled inside.

I stared out the window at the massive estate while dread crawled down my spine.

The car stopped near the entrance and before I could even react, my door was yanked open and a hand grabbed for my arm.

I pulled back instantly, scrambling toward the opposite side of the seat.

“Do not touch me!”

Strong hands seized me from both sides before dragging me bodily from the SUV.

I screamed and fought wildly.

“Let go of me!”

Nobody cared.

I kicked one of them hard enough to make him curse.

Big mistake.

The man twisted my arm painfully behind my back.

I cried out instantly.

“Move,” he barked.

Tears burned my eyes as they forced me toward the house.

I barely had time to look around before I was hauled up the stairs before finally being shoved into a large bedroom.

The man forced me into a chair and left the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

For three full seconds after I sat there frozen before the adrenaline slammed through me.

My hands immediately began working at the restraints.

The ropes burned against my skin as I twisted and pulled desperately.

“Come on…” I whispered frantically.

My fingers were numb from how tightly they had tied me earlier.

I tugged harder.

I refused to stay tied up waiting for whatever these lunatics planned to do with me.

I twisted my wrist sharply again. Pain shot through my hand but I stifled my scream, tugging at the rope until one hand slipped free.

Relief nearly made me dizzy.

I quickly untied the rest around my wrists before dropping to the floor to work on my ankles.

A minute later those were free too.

I stood immediately.

My legs nearly buckled beneath me but I steadied myself against the chair.

Okay. Now what?

I looked around the room quickly.

There was a huge bed, fireplace, a bookshelf, a window which was out of the question to escape from because it was locked.

I needed a weapon…Something to defend myself with.

My eyes darted around the room desperately.

I opened drawers first.

There was nothing.

I searched every nook of the room, despair building up in me.

When I was so sure there, this was it, my eyes happened upon the pillows.

There was something glittering at the edge of the left.

I lifted it, a gasp escaping my lips.

I was staring at a gun.

“What the hell…”

Why would there be a gun under the pillow?

Who even kept guns under pillows?

My hands trembled slightly as I picked it up carefully.

It was heavier than I expected and cold too.

Okay. Maybe the universe had not completely abandoned me.

I checked the chamber awkwardly the way I had seen in movies.

Loaded.

Holy shit…I had a loaded gun.

A shaky breath left me.

I immediately pointed it toward the door.

Wait.

Did I even know how to shoot this thing properly?

I frowned.

No.

But honestly?

How hard could it be?

You point and pull the trigger.

Right?

God, I hoped so.

I quickly moved beside the door, pressing my back against the wall where whoever entered would not immediately see me.

My pulse pounded violently.

Every tiny sound outside made me tense.

Minutes dragged by painfully slowly until finally I heard footsteps coming closer then keys rattling.

I tightened my grip on the gun with both hands as the door slowly pushed inward.

I raised the gun with shaking hands immediately the figure stepped into the room.

“Don’t move!” I shouted.