Stryder had taken a huge risk by speaking to Poplov in such a manner, but he didn’t give a damn. He was a man, and a powerful man at that. He had every right to do whatever the fuck he wanted to do with his… slave. Hell, he’d whipped the girl for all to see. What more could this fucker expect?

He hated doing it, but it really was the only thing he could think of without actually forcing the woman to have sex with him. He was good with the whip. Although he had only used it on consenting women up until now, and the aftermath was always a night of crazy, hot sex. So this was definitely not how he would have liked to use a favorite implement of his. But he knew he wouldn’t cause any damage, and the sound and the sight would definitely come across as harsh when, in fact, it was far less awful for Zoya than if he had shoved his cock in her mouth.

Looking at Anson, who had grabbed hold of Zoya again even though she tried to resist his touch, Stryder tilted his head slightly, signaling that it was time to leave. He needed to get the hell out of there, and fast. He didn’t know how much longer he could restrain himself. And he didn’t trust that Zoya wouldn’t do something foolish and force him to have to save face in front of all these men.

Anson took his cue and gently led Zoya off the stage. Stryder glared at Poplov one last time and silently swore to himself that the next time he faced the bastard, a gun would be resting between the monster’s eyes.

“Don’t touch me,” Zoya screeched as they reached the last stair of the stage. They were no longer in plain sight for all to see, but Stryder still needed the woman to be quiet.

“Enough,” he whispered in her ear, grabbing her by the arm as he headed toward the exit. “This is not the time to draw attention our way.”

“Moudak!” she spat, but did lower her voice as she cursed.

“Yes, I’m an asshole. But this asshole is about to save your life.”

She tried to pull her arm away, but Stryder held firm as he took long strides toward the door in which they had entered this hell. Anson was on the other side of Zoya, holding her steady as well. Just a few more steps and they would be—

“Gardenzio!” Vasily Poplov called out. “Leaving so soon?”

Stryder spun on his heel and plastered the fakest smile on his face that he could. “Yes. We have business to attend to. Our flight leaves tonight.”

Poplov’s face was near impossible to read. Stryder sensed he saw a little doubt, but couldn’t be sure. And for a split second, he wondered if Anson and he were up for a run. Were they close enough to the exit? Would they even have a fighting chance? Hell, even though they might, there was no way Zoya could—not in those heels.

Poplov reached his hand up and signaled for his security guard to come over. “Ah, very well, my friend.” He looked at his security guard and in Russian said, “Please give Zoya’s papers to her new Master. He may be needing these to leave Russia.” When the security guard reached in his pocket and pulled out an envelope and a passport, Poplov gave Stryder a wicked smile. “I do try to think of everything.”

Stryder nodded. “Thank you. That does make this trip much easier. I don’t have to bribe anyone now.”

“Oh no. You have definitely paid enough for one night.” Poplov looked at Anson, who stood with his jaw clenched and his hand still holding Zoya’s arm. “I do hope you both come back again. Surely you need a slave of your very own.”

“Oh, we will be back,” Anson said in the gravest of voices Stryder had ever heard him use. “You can count on that.”

Poplov, not catching the venom in Anson’s veiled threat, turned to Zoya. “You behave, sweet one. I have a feeling these men are going to get their money’s worth with your tiny little body.”

Holding back the urge to punch Vasily right in the nose, Stryder reached for the items the guard held out for him and turned without saying another word.

“Where are you taking me?” Zoya asked as they walked out into the bitter cold.

“To safety.”

“Where?” she asked again, shivering as the cold air hit her bare legs. He glanced down at the toned muscles of her calves and thighs accentuated by the black heels she still wore, and was relieved that at least his jacket covered up her nakedness. Anyone could assume she was just wearing a very slinky, short dress under it. Luckily, they didn’t have far to walk, or she surely would have frozen her tight little ass off.

Shaking off her questions and her distractions, he and Anson marched forward with one mission in mind: Focus on the rescue. They were not in the clear yet. Not until they were out of Russia and back at The Black Stallion Ranch, and they didn’t have time to deal with this little girl’s need to be in control. She wasn’t, and she needed to get that through her head fast.

She struggled again, doing her best to break free of his hold, even collapsing her legs, forcing them to drag her forward. “I’m not going anywhere with you! Yowb tvoyou math!”

“You will, because you know you have no choice. You know the power of that man back there who just sold you to the highest bidder. Do you really think you can walk out of here on your own? There is no one who can help you but us. So shut up and do as I say.”

“You are a real sick fuck, you know that?”

Losing what little temper he had left, Stryder snapped her body up against his chest, breaking her away from Anson. He held her tight as she pummeled his chest with her tiny fists. Between clenched teeth, he quietly snarled, “Listen to me! You can tell me to fuck off and call me whatever name you want, but not until we get you out of here. Unless you want me to march you right back inside and give you to one of those men who wouldn’t hesitate to fuck you in the ass for all to see, I advise you to shut your goddamn mouth.” He held onto one of her fists and squeezed hard enough for her to stop her attack. “I am going to tell you what you are going to do, and you are going to follow my directions to a tee. We are going to walk to the main street. I need you to act like everything is perfectly fine. A car will be parked and waiting for us, and I expect you to get in, sit down, and remain quiet. When we get to the hotel, my brother and I will explain what is going on. Are we clear?”

When she didn’t answer but only looked up at him with defiance in her eyes rather than fear, he asked again but with more force and dominance in every single word. “Are. We. Clear?”

“Yes,” she snapped, fury sizzling behind her crystal blue eyes. “We. Are. Clear. 'Khu i.”

Being called a dick by someone he was supposed to be helping, infuriated him. Trying to regain control, Stryder took a deep breath. The vixen was working his last nerve. He was trying his best to understand her situation and maintain patience. He knew she was scared, hell… terrified. And he knew she didn’t know they were there to help. But when she glared up at him with that look and responded with that voice of insolence to his command, he wanted to spank her little Russian ass like the deserving brat she was and teach her a lesson she wouldn’t soon forget. His nerves were shot, his temper high, and he was in no mood for a pretty little blonde to fuck up his operation.

“Stryder,” Anson said, breaking him from his thoughts, “we need to get going. Now.”

Knowing his brother was right, he turned Zoya around, who finally willingly walked between them toward the waiting black town car. It was a huge risk that Zoya wouldn’t just scream for help. If police were called, chances were it wouldn’t help the situation. Stryder knew they couldn’t trust the authorities. There was no telling who Poplov had paid off or not. No, if they were going to get out of Russia alive, they needed to do it on their own, under the guise that they were leaving Russia with their paid sex slave by their side.

When they reached the car, Zoya shot daggers his way as she eased herself into the vehicle, but at least she was being obedient and doing as he ordered. Stryder quickly slid in beside her, and released the breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. They were one step closer to safety, and at least now they wouldn’t be nearly as vulnerable as they had been. He had never wished for his gun more than he did right now.

Zoya’s body shook next to his, which instantly extinguished the flames of his temper and made him want to wrap his arms around her frightened and freezing frame to give her comfort. “Take us to the Radisson Royal Hotel. And can you turn up the heat?” His Russian was rusty, and he knew Anson was holding in a laugh as Stryder no doubt butchered the instructions.

Those were the only words spoken for the entirety of the drive, which wasn’t very far but felt like a lifetime. Both he and Anson were constantly, but subtly, glancing back to see if they were being followed. So far, everything seemed to be going smoothly but the tension he felt was giving him a headache from hell.

When they finally arrived, Stryder helped Zoya out of the car while Anson paid the driver. Leaning close to her ear, he whispered, “We are going to walk in and go straight to the elevator. There are cameras everywhere, so do not do anything but hold my hand and stare straight ahead. Say nothing. Do nothing. All of our lives depend on it.” He reached for her hand and held it firmly.

Zoya didn’t say a single word, but didn’t resist at all. When her delicate hand touched his and he could feel her tiny trembles, his heart went out to her. She had no idea what was going on and had to be so very scared. The original plan was to continue to make her believe she was a sex slave until they were back at the ranch. Terrify her into submission. It would be safer that way. They couldn’t risk her blowing their mission. But at the same time, he couldn’t be so cruel as to do that to her. She deserved to know that she was safe. That everything was going to be all right. He was known for going rogue a time or two on missions, and his family hated it. But there was a good reason for this. Even Anson—Mr. By The Book—would have to agree on this. He just had to hope his little Russian vixen with the filthy mouth could become a really good actress.

When they all three crossed the threshold of the hotel room and locked the door behind them, Stryder could almost hear the relief. Even Zoya seemed less scared, although she stood with her back to the wall, waiting to see what would come next. Placing a finger to his lips, he kept it there as Anson removed a black box from an inside pocket of his jacket. He saw Zoya’s eyes widen a bit but evidently she understood not to speak as Anson flipped a switch and slowly began to walk around the room. Stryder’s heart skipped a beat when his brother hesitated, running what they referred to as the “bug-zapper” over the floor length curtains covering the windows not once but three times, his arm high to make sure he captured the iron rod that held the fabric. When he stepped onto a chair and examined the rod, Stryder watched as he tugged at the cap on the end and ran his hand and the zapper along the rod. Evidently satisfied, he shook his head, jumped from the chair, and continued his circuit. Returning to them, he switched off the unit.

“Got a spike but it’s not a bug. Someone did a sloppy job repairing a break in the rod. The room is clear.”

Stryder nodded and turned his attention to the girl. “We aren’t going to hurt you, Zoya,” he began, slowly reaching for her hand again. “Come sit down.” He led her over to the edge of the bed, but then thought it might give her the wrong idea. So, he pulled out the desk chair and had her sit there while he sat on the bed across from her. Anson stood up against the wall, letting Stryder handle it from there.

“Who are you? I heard him call you Stryder earlier. I thought your name was Michael,” Zoya said boldly, yet he could still see the fear.

“My name is Stryder Steele, and this is my brother, Anson. My family runs a place called The Black Stallion Ranch. We provide rescue and safekeeping to those in need. Sort of a witness protection program for those messed up in the darker side of things. We are trying to bring Vasily Poplov down and hope you can help us in that mission.”

“Help you? How?” Her fear was now replaced by confusion. “Why me?”

Stryder didn’t have a good answer as to why her and not one of the other tortured women. “Vasily has done a lot of awful things to people we care about. When we learned of this auction, we knew we needed to get closer to his fucked up empire. Our plan is to get you back to the ranch and see if you can give us any information that might help us end this sex slave business—as well as Vasily—all together.”

“I don’t see how I have anything to offer.”

Anson cut in. “We don’t want you to worry about that now. We will deal with everything when we get back to Texas.”

“Texas! I don’t want to go to Texas. My family, Russia—”

“Are over for you right now,” Stryder interrupted. When he saw pain flash in her eyes, he softened his voice. “We need to get you to a safe place. If word gets out that you are still here, Vasily will kill you, or even worse. You can’t stay. We have to make it look like I own you, and I am your Master.”

Zoya took a minute to process all the information being thrown at her, and then her eyes narrowed. “You whipped me.”

Stryder nodded, not regretting his decision one bit. “I did. Would you have rather I fucked you?”

Her eyes bulged and her mouth opened to speak, but no words came out.

“I take that as a yes?”

The look she gave was by far the dirtiest Stryder had seen given by a woman, and he had been on the receiving end of many a sour look in his lifetime. It was actually hard not to chuckle. She was cute when she was angry.

“Moudak,” she mumbled under her breath.

“And your mouth is getting really old,” Stryder warned. “I can only be called an asshole so many times before I show you what happens to women who call me names.”

“Stryd—” Anson began.

Stryder raised his hand, silencing his brother. “She’s my save, Anson,” he said in a warning voice. His brother needed to back off, and now. They had rules, and if the save belonged to one brother, the others stepped down.

Zoya glanced at Anson and then back at Stryder. “What’s that supposed to mean? I’m your save? So you really do believe you are my Master? Fuck off!” She stood up only to have Stryder put his hand on her shoulder, forcing her back in her seat.

“Call it whatever you want. I really don’t care. All I do care about is getting you back to the ranch and completing this mission. So until that time is over, you will do what I say.” He stood up and walked over to his suitcase and rummaged through it for a black tee shirt. “Here, put this on. It will give you some length, keep you warmer, and no one will really be able to tell it’s just a man’s shirt. Plus, you can also wear one of my wool coats when we board the plane. We fly out tonight, so there is no time to shop. I want us out of Russia and Poplov’s grasp as soon as possible.”

Suddenly remembering Maddox and his father, who would be anxiously awaiting news, he reached for his phone and texted:

Phase Three complete. All went well.

We have Zoya and are flying out tonight.

Tell Jennie she is about the same size as Adira, maybe a size smaller.

No hippie clothes.

See you soon.

S

“So I have no choice in this matter. Is that what I’m hearing?” Zoya’s voice rose as she had time to really think about all that was happening. Stryder feared hysteria would soon take over. “What about the police? Why can’t I go there?”

“Zoya,” Anson cut in. “You are a smart girl. Do you think that Vasily hasn’t lined their pockets? Do you really want to take that risk?”

She let out a sigh. “How long?” Looking at Stryder, she asked, “How long do I have to stay in Texas and be your fucking save?”

Even though he was growing tired of her language, he really did want to smile at her spunk on that question. He liked her. He would never admit to that fact. But this blue-eyed, blonde-haired bombshell had some kick.

“Until we save those women back there. And until we see Vasily Poplov pay for all he’s done.” Stryder knew that he had to swallow some of his alpha personality and soften towards her a little, or risk scaring her away or causing her to rebel. He tentatively reached for Zoya’s hand and kneeled before her. “I know you want those women saved. I know the thought of what is being done to them is killing you inside. It is doing the same thing to me. We plan to help. My family has made it their mission to help. I know it’s asking a lot for you to trust me. But I need you to. Can you do that?”

Zoya looked up at Anson and then down into Stryder’s eyes. “Yes. For my friend Natalia and the others, I will give you that. For their sakes. But only if you promise me you will save them.”

“I give you my word,” Stryder said softly. “I may be an asshole, a dick, and someone you will want to say fuck off to many times. But I am a man of my word.”

“Then let’s get to this horse ranch you speak of… Master.” Zoya gave a small smile, and present in her azure eyes was a little twinkle of hope.

Both Anson and Stryder chuckled.

“I like the tone of that,” Stryder said playfully, grateful that the mood of the room had changed. “Master has a nice ring to it.”