Home > The Petrov Brothers(61)

The Petrov Brothers(61)
Author: J.L. Beck

“Yeah, whatever, let’s get her up and out of here. I’m sure she’ll be just as excited to be hitched with me as I am with her.” I roll my eyes. I'm not prepared for what's to come—not even a little bit.

Ivan unlocks the cell and opens the heavy door. It creaks as it swings open, and I move my gaze to the woman on the mattress. She doesn’t even flinch as we enter the cell, and I'm stuck wondering how this is all going to go down.

What is she going to think when she sees me and Ivan? She’ll probably be scared out of her mind. Grown men fear us, so I imagine this tiny woman is going to lose her shit. I suppose it's only going to get worse when we tell her she’s going to be coming with me.

I see this going fucking marvelously.

Shaking my head, I squat down right next to her mattress. Anger rushes to the surface when I gaze at her marred skin up close. It’s mostly healed, the marks slowly fading and bruises turning yellow in some spots. I grind my teeth together, feeling the need to punch something. I don't deal with my anger well as it is, but this makes my blood boil. Fuck, I don’t even want to know what these looked like a few days ago. Moving my attention away from the marks on her back, I train my eyes to the back of her head.

“Hey.” I try to keep my voice low and calm.

When she doesn’t respond, I force myself to ask another question.

“Are you awake?” She doesn't move or say anything, though I’m pretty sure she isn’t sleeping judging by her shallow breathing. I swallow nervously, lifting my hand and placing it on her shoulder. My fingers brush against the exposed skin along her throat. Her skin is cold—colder than it should be. I pry on her shoulders to make her lie on her back. She doesn’t even struggle, her body complying with my movements.

I don’t really know what I expected to see when I rolled her over to face me. I just know it wasn’t what I found. Her eyes open and immediately look up into mine. She’s got a heart-shaped face, and her eyes are the color of the sky on a sunny day, framed by thick, dark lashes that accentuate their beauty. Her face is thin—too thin—but her delicate features are nothing but stunning. Her full lips are dry and cracked, and there are dark circles under her eyes, but I can still see how beautiful she is.

There’s an innocence to her, and it calls to me. It makes me want to be the man to save her, to protect her from all the bad in the world.

We stay this way for a long while, our eyes bleeding into each other, as if we’re forming a bond with nothing but a single look. I’m mesmerized, not only by her beauty, but also by what her eyes tell me. She is sad—so incredibly sad, lost, and broken.

She looks like a fallen angel…fallen because someone clipped her wings.

I’ll be damned if I let someone put her in a fucking cage.

 

 

24

 

 

Sophie

 

His hand is large and sits heavy on my shoulder, as if it belongs there.

There’s broken skin on his knuckles and cuts on his hands. My skin burns hot under his fingers, but I don’t make a move to pull away.

I want his hand there, and that alone confuses me. I should be scared…terrified even, and parts of me are. These men bought me like a slab of meat in the market and caged me in this cell like an animal. Surely they mean to hurt me, maybe even rape me…kill me? But that doesn’t explain why this man’s touch doesn’t scare me. Or why his eyes hold a kindness I feel they normally wouldn’t. He doesn’t look like the type of man who smiles or offers sympathy very easily, and that makes me wonder why he’s offering it to me.

“I’m going to take you somewhere. Somewhere safe.” His voice breaks the silence, and it sounds like water running through gravel. Without thought, I lower my gaze to his full lips and watch them move as he talks some more.

“I’ll take you with me. You can stay at my place until we get things figured out…is that okay with you?” he asks, as if I really have a choice in the matter. I blink and glance back up to his eyes.

I don’t know why I feel safe in his presence. It’s strange and surreal. I should be cowering in the corner, crying, begging and pleading for them to leave.

“Okay.” The word comes out raspy and broken. My throat is so dry, it hurts every time I swallow. I guess that’s my fault since I haven't been drinking much and refuse to eat anything brought to me.

His gray-blue eyes widen in surprise. He probably thought I would refuse or even struggle. He doesn't know I have no fight left in me. Maybe that's why I am oddly drawn to this man’s touch…why his presence gives me comfort when it should terrify me.

He turns and looks over his shoulder at a man standing a few feet away—a man I didn’t even notice was inside the room until. I eye him cautiously. He’s similar looking to the man in front of me.

They both have the same striking eyes and olive skin color, and then there’s the height and weight they carry. There forms are so similar, I consider the fact that they may be related. They exchange a silent nod, then the man with the kind eyes turns his attention back to me.

“You don’t look like you’ll be able to walk far, so I’m going to carry you.” He doesn’t ask for my permission, or even give me a chance to respond. He just slides his arms beneath my body and lifts me into the air.

My own arms lay awkwardly against my stomach as he holds me to his chest. A chest that’s warm and inviting. A chest I want to burrow my face into. I can’t take my eyes off his face. There is something about him that grabs a hold of me and refuses to let go. His beautiful gray eyes are what got my attention first, but from this angle, all I can identify is his strong, masculine jawline.

My eyes roam over his manly features, his full lips, and high cheekbones. There’s an arrogance about him, but it doesn’t ooze from his pores. His nose has a crook in it, as if it’s been broken a time or five, and he has a few scars on his face.

I’m only vaguely aware we are walking out of the cell when he stops dead in his tracks.

“I’m going to need you to close your eyes. There are things in here you can’t see,” the other man orders from beside us. The unknown man tilts his face down, and my eyes meet his. There’s a story behind his eyes. I get the feeling that maybe he’s broken too—broken just like me.

“Can you do that? Can you close your eyes for me?” His voice engulfs me like a warm blanket. I nod, letting my eyes drift closed.

The world goes black around me, but despite that, I feel safe. I turn my face into the man's chest. He is warm…so warm. His shirt is soft. He smells good, like fresh linen mixed with some expensive cologne. We walk for a while, the sounds of their heavy footfalls bouncing off the walls. We start going upward, and I start shivering when cool air licks my heated skin. The man cradling me holds me even closer, and I take the moment to push my ear to his shirt, right over his heart. I take comfort in the sound of his heartbeat. It’s so soothing, the swooshing of the blood as it moves in and out.

The sound of car doors opening meets my ears right before my body is jostled as he sits down. His grip never loosens on me, and I’m thankful for that—thankful for the peace his presence brings me.

No one can hurt me with this man by my side, I just know it. I keep my eyes closed. When I’m almost asleep, the small jolt of the car coming to a complete stop wakes me. The engine is turned off, and the doors open. Then, I’m being carried out, whisked away to somewhere unknown.

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