Beyond Taken (The Beyond Series Book 5) Page 11

  "Why would she be here?"

  "I do not know. Maybe Papa sold her to a different ship captain. I will ask her."

  "You're not making any sense," he said, coming forward and feeling my forehead. His fingers felt cool. And too big.

  I ducked my head away from them.

  "I am not sick."

  He settled at my back and I could feel his watchful eyes on me. "You're telling me that your father sold Lisandra too?"

  "Yes."

  "What kind of father sells his daughters?"

  "One that plays too many cards with dangerous men. Lisandra did not last long enough and they did not like that. I hope they did not treat her like Keeristorm, but I fear they did. I am hoping she was not Lisandra."

  "Who else would she have been?" he asked, doing his best not to sound patronizing.

  "She used to be Elena when I was Saskia. Perhaps Elena was the one she killed. I hope so. Lisandra was too loving to be treated that way."

  "Elena?"

  At the tone of his voice, I spun around.

  "She was on the Moskva-Liis," I gathered from the look on his face.

  His complexion paled as he regarded me with stark appraisal. "She was."

  Lunging at him, I kneed his side with the stitches as I yanked his head sideways by the hair. He cried out at the strain on his neck and wrapped an arm around my waist to wrench me off, but not before I'd grabbed his gun.

  As I hit the bed, I aimed it at his chest and he retreated instantly.

  "No Natascha," he said, holding up his hands.

  "Why did you not help her?" I demanded, training the gun on his head. "Or did you?" I asked, steadying myself. "Is that how you will help me escape too?"

  Backing away another step, he fell back into his chair. I kept the gun on him as I repeated myself.

  "Is it?"

  "I couldn't save her from herself, Natascha," he said softly, lowering his arms. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry this happened to you. To her."

  He certainly seemed sorry, but he was a good actor. He played two people already; what difference would it make to add another?

  "Are you a daydream Nikolai Pachenko?"

  "Sometimes," he admitted, running a hand through his hair and looking at the wall as if looking out a window. "A daydream can't kill people though."

  "Yes it can. Stop looking out the window!"

  Frowning, he turned back to me, his eyes piercing me with a look of awe.

  "Tell me how I can escape. Too long I have to wait and trust you."

  "You'll still be trusting me if I tell you," he pointed out, folding his arms. "And you can't ask a dead man."

  "You are not the only one who can see lies, Pachenko. I will know. And a man in pain often speaks the truth to make it stop," I replied more bravely than I felt as I aimed the gun lower.

  He swallowed visibly.

  "Tell me why you lock the door twice," I demanded.

  "I am the only one with both keys. If I lock only one, someone else might come in here. Just like how you got in here to begin with. Now I have reason to lock twice."

  "What is your reason? To keep me safe?"

  "And myself. If I'm found to be treating you well, I can't be Pachenko."

  Easing back slowly, I let the wall behind me offer some much-needed support. "Throw the keys on the bed."

  Fishing in one of his jeans pockets, he retrieved the keys and tossed them next to me on the bed.

  "Who are you really?" I asked.

  "Nikolai."

  Squinting at him a moment, I couldn't decide if I should believe him. "Do you say this for truth, or because you think I will be kinder to Nikolai?"

  "Truth."

  "Why have you not let me out yet?"

  "Many reasons. We're not close enough to land. There are many men on this ship. When we arrive at our destination, more men will come by helicopter. Can you fly helicopters?"

  "Do not ask stupid questions."

  "It's not stupid if you can fly a helicopter," he offered with a shrug. "It would make a good get-away vehicle. Better than an old lifeboat."

  "I am to get away on a lifeboat?"

  "That's the only plan I have at the moment. Can you swim?"

  "Yes. Where is this lifeboat?"

  He pointed upward. "We're sitting two decks below. There are many others living on this level."

  "How many?"

  "Thirty-four men. Twenty more below. Twelve more above. Always there is someone walking around. I was thinking when the time came, we would need a distraction before we could move."

  "Where is the lifeboat?"

  He pointed to the door. "You will go out; turn right. Go to the end and turn right again. The door to the stairs is halfway down that corridor. Go up until you see the open deck through the porthole - the window in the door," he added as he observed my confused expression.

  "From that door, you'll have to run across a small gap - this will be best to do at night, when you will be less likely to be seen," he explained, as if he would care if I were caught, even though I am pointing his own gun at him.

  "You want to get behind the tanks and stay low all the way to the end, even once you're behind the lifeboats. You must not rise until you reach the very last one. It's the least visible. Mostly hidden from every angle. That's your boat. It'll need to be detached from the ship and lowered over the side. I was going to help you with that. I don't think you'll manage it on your own, but you are very surprising, so maybe I'm wrong."

  Regarding me carefully, he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "You want me to write it down? It'd be pretty damning for me if you decided to spare my life, so I'd prefer if you could remember all the variables without condemning me in writing. Did I speak too quickly?"

  "No. But you use big words to ask me to keep you safe," I replied, my unappreciative tone clear. "When is the best time for me to go?"

  "In three and a half weeks."

  Gritting my teeth, I raised the gun higher again. "I am not pointing a gun at you for three weeks. It will be tonight."

  "Three and a half weeks," he corrected firmly. "Tonight is not good," he added, shaking his head adamantly. "We're too far away and it's poker night. Lots of men. Lots of Vodka."

  "That might be a good thing."

  Closing his eyes, he sighed. "Not tonight it won't be."

  "Well I cannot keep pointing this gun at you for another day."

  "You could maybe not point it at me," he suggested.

  I nodded. "Yes. Good idea, Pachenko. I should give up my only power and let you punish me for wanting to leave."

  "I would not punish you for such a thing," he said firmly.

  "No. You will just set me free," I agreed. "Like Lisandra."

  "I would not kill you."

  "You kill people all the time."

  He shifted uncomfortably. "Not all the time."

  Sighing, he held up his hands in surrender. "I won't punish you or kill you Natascha, but I can't say it enough so that you'd ever believe me."

  "That surprises you?" I asked, feeling my eyebrows rise high. "You hold me prisoner, and confuse me. You do nice things in a bad way. You keep things from me. You pretend more than I do. You are criminal. A killer. You threaten me and get angry at me for no reason. I think you would kill me. I live in fear of every confusing thought I have about you, but still I do not want to kill you," I confessed through tears as I searched his beautiful face.

  Taking a deep breath, I raised my chin and kept my arms steady as I looked him in the eye. "You would kill me easier than you would a bug, then wash your face, drink your vodka and listen to your angry music. I know this. I have seen. You might have to pay them for killing one of their girls, but they will not care either. It will not be hard for you."

  "It would be much harder than you think," he argued, his jaw working hard as he ground his teeth. His eyes didn't shift from mine.

  I almost laughed as I shook my head. "I think not. You pointed a gun at me for not eating."


  Exhaling slowly, he bobbed his head in agreement. "I did, but it wasn't loaded then either, so we are even. Yes?"

  Frowning, I kept the gun targeting his chest. "What are you saying?"

  Leaning back, he dug into his pocket again and pulled out the gun's ammunition clip. Tossing it onto the bed next to me, he shrugged.

  "You have all you need now Natascha. You can either stay and trust me, or you can kill me when I try to stop you from leaving tonight because I don't want you to die. I-" Cutting himself off, he closed his eyes.

  My chin trembled and I clenched my jaw as I grabbed the clip and thrust it inside the gun as I'd seen him do countless times before.

  "Why did you do that?" I demanded. "Why did you not kill me?"

  My arms threatened to shake the gun from my hands, but I forced them to stay raised.

  He opened his eyes and I saw it, but it wasn't enough. I shook my head, raised the gun slightly and repeated my question. He looked defeated and victorious both and I recognized the same battle within myself. I knew that this was the struggle he'd been fighting every time he ran from me.

  "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I tried not to be, but I'm in love with you. You're the only one keeping me from being a daydream too, Natascha."

  I released the clip. It fell to the bed as he rose from his chair and I dropped the gun as I leapt into his arms.

  My legs wrapped securely around his waist as his mouth hungrily sought mine. He tasted better than I had imagined and I could not have dreamed how good it felt to be in his arms when he wanted me there. It was where I had wanted to be for longer than I cared to admit to myself.

  Clinging to him with my legs, I wrestled his jacket over his broad shoulders and attacked the buttons on his shirt.

  "Natascha," he whispered, unable to keep from kissing me again even as his hands attempted to still my own. Pulling away, he leaned his forehead against mine; breathing hard.

  "I shouldn't," he said, his own fingers disobeying him as they traveled down my back and up under my top. He pressed his lips together on a moan and peeled my body from his, setting me back on the bed. His forehead nudged mine away, but he could not seem to stop from following.

  "You should Niko. Is the wrong place, but this is right between us. I cannot fight it either."

  I ran my hands through his hair, having imagined doing so countless times since I'd first seen him on the docks in Tallinn.

  His tongue flicked up my neck as he inhaled the scent of my hair.

  "I need to do something," he moaned, pulling me closer. "I should go and do it before someone comes looking for me. I'll come straight back to you, Natascha. I don't want to leave you, but I must. To keep you safe."

  Suppressing the needy whine that was building in my throat, I closed my hands over his and reluctantly removed them from my body.

  "How long will you be?"

  "An hour? Maybe two. I'm sorry."

  "You will make it up to me I think," I said with a smile. "I will be waiting."

  Running his hands over his face he adjusted his crotch and muttered something in Russian as someone thumped on our door.

  Our eyes met and he changed instantly in front of me.

  "You are Saskia," he ordered in a harsh whisper.

  I could only nod in response as he yanked my top over my head. Lifting me from the bed in my underpants, he shoved my shirt under the blanket. Carrying me to the bathroom, he whispered for me to pretend I was scared and to stay in the corner as he pulled my hair from its tail and threw a towel over my toiletries.

  I didn't tell him that I didn't need to pretend.

  "I'll be back as soon as I can," he whispered, kissing my head as he left. He didn't shut the bathroom door all the way and I heard him open the cabin door.

  It was loud in the hallway outside and I understood that he hadn't been lying about many other people living around us. I wondered why I hadn't heard them laughing and calling to each other before, and concluded that perhaps Pachenko operated on a different schedule and that's why he left so early and returned so late.

  Frowning, I listened to him talk in Russian with the visitor and changed my mind about his schedule. Pachenko sometimes returned in the middle of the day, and it was quiet then too. Maybe it was that he only returned when it was quiet, and he took this precaution to draw as little attention to me as possible. Perhaps my safety was the reason for his strange schedule.

  There could be any number of ways to explain the situation.

  I heard him laugh. It was a different laugh than I had heard from him before. Pachenko's laugh was crueler, I decided. That made sense.

  I hunched into the corner more tightly as the bathroom door opened. Peering through my hair, I flinched when Pachenko threw a sandwich at me and the other man laughed.

  The new man nodded and viewed me with interest. Nodding, he held out his hand. Pachenko reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a wad of cash. Peeling a few bills from it, he slapped them in the man's hand and said something that I knew was crude, because he put the rest of his money away and grabbed his dick through his jeans.

  The other man laughed and slapped him on the back before backing out of the room. Pachenko spat on the floor by my feet and followed him. They spoke a little more and then the outer door closed.

  Too scared to move, I waited for both locks to sound before I could breathe, but I'd barely drawn breath when I froze again. I hadn't been left alone.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The bathroom door swung open and I pretended I was the smallest Saskia I could possibly be, hoping I'd be overlooked.

  Pachenko entered and dropped to one knee beside me. I winced as he raised his hand, but he only pressed a finger to his lips. His eyes were saddened as they took me in and he reached to brush my hair aside. Adrenaline still pumping in my veins, I recoiled from his advance and he stopped.

  Nodding, he backed off. Taking a facecloth, he wiped his spit from the floor and tossed it in the laundry sack. Next, he removed the sandwich, disappearing into the other room with it and returning with a blanket. Setting that at my feet, he backed off again, before hesitating.

  Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out his flask and set it next to the blanket and left the room. His chair creaked from out in the cabin, so I knew he had not gone completely.

  Already shivering beyond control by the time I managed to pull the blanket around myself, I grappled for the flask as it spun out of my trembling grasp on the bathroom floor. I drank until it was empty and I felt a little better; strong enough to emerge from the bathroom anyway.

  I sat quietly on the bed as Nikolai rushed to close the bathroom door I'd left open.

  "I'm so sorry, Natascha. I didn't want for that to happen. I was meant to meet him, but I didn't think he'd come looking for me so soon, and then he wanted to make sure I hadn't damaged you too much. On the bright side, he was why I was leaving, so now I can stay."

  I did not feel at all happy about him staying.

  "You paid him for me."

  Easing to the floor in front of me, Nikolai regarded me carefully a moment.

  "Yes. I pay to keep you here. To keep you safe."

  "You bought me?" I asked, not understanding.

  His eyes closed and he shook his head. "I... rent you. They don't consider you mine."

  "You rent me?"

  I was having trouble grounding myself and I was beginning to feel very light-headed. Holding the blanket closed around me, I reached out a hand to steady myself, but it never seemed to find a surface to rest on and I simply kept falling.

  I opened my eyes to find myself tucked into bed. With my bed clothes back on. Rubbing my eyes, I sat up too quickly and my head spun.

  "Easy," he whispered from beside me as I held a hand to my head.

  He'd pulled his chair right up next to the bed and he wore a very troubled expression.

  "I was asleep?"

  "Only for a short while," he said softly.

  Relaxing, I nodded.
"I had an awful dream." Frowning, I leaned back against my pillow. "Not all of it was bad though," I said, sneaking a look at him. He was looking at me strangely and I had the sudden thought that I was in that same dream.

  Gasping, I covered my mouth. "Am I awake now?"

  "Yes," he said with an odd expression.

  "Did we kiss?"

  Scratching his forehead, he blushed and lowered his gaze as he nodded.

  I remembered how he tasted, but now my mouth felt soured as if I'd drunk a lot of vodka on an empty stomach.

  Reality hit me like a truck and I swore before scooting up the bed away from him. "You spat at me!"

  Scrunching up his face, he groaned as he leaned back in his chair.

  "Pachenko spat at Saskia," he said, opening one eye to assess my response. "Nikolai would never spit at Natascha."

  Sighing, he lowered his face into his hands a moment before pushing up and pacing around the cabin.

  "We're back to four of us again," he said irritably. "I didn't want you to need her ever again. I'm sorry. I had to act fast, and that was the most plausible defense."

  Grabbing the door frame with white knuckles, he shook his head. "I treated you how they expected me too and it was unforgivable, I know, but I didn't want to and I certainly didn't mean any of it. I just wanted to protect you."

  Running a hand through his hair, he growled. "And myself. I should've run to you when I saw you twirling down the boardwalk in your pretty dress like a beautiful spring breeze. I should have gathered you into my arms and taken you far away from all of this evil. I hated knowing how close it was to you even then. When I found you in my room I-" Shaking his head, he continued pacing and shook his fists loose each time they bunched. "I should've taken us both far away where daydreams aren't dangerous and life isn't a nightmare of lies twisting with reality."

  I watched him stalking up and down until I started to feel ill.

  "Can you please sit down again? You are making me feel dizzy."

  Stopping mid-stride, he shoved his hands in his pockets, but did not sit.

  "I think maybe I should leave for a while," he said quietly. "Emotions have been running high this morning and you're not used to having me around. I think you'll cope better without me, and I need to be Pachenko outside for a while, so I can feel more like myself in here. I'm sorry I blurred the lines again," he added, rubbing at his furrowed brow. "I'm blurring too many. I can't give us away. There's too much at risk," he said watching me with sad eyes.