Chapter Eighteen
Abel
Vladimir’s men move us into a holding cell in the back of a fishery. We’re just up the river from where the exchange fell apart, and I’m terrified because I don’t know what’s going to happen to us next. The front part of this place looks like a place where they process fish, but the back looks like swanky business offices. I guess this place is some sort of cover for nefarious activity.
I don’t realize how badly I’m shaking until I lift up my hands so the huge man leading us into the cell can take off my wrist restraints. Seeing Adam get shot has rocked me to my core. Sophie is sobbing violently, and the man puts a comforting hand on her head after he takes off her restraints.
“It’s okay, little bit. It’s almost over. Your brother will be okay. You’ll be home soon,” he coos.
“Your accent is gone,” she says to him, completely astonished.
“Things are not always as they appear, little bit. Sometimes there are good guys in bad places.” He winks at her and then locks us in the cell when he hears more of Vladimir’s men coming.
When he’s gone, I turn to Sophie. I’m concerned because she looks very pale. She takes a seat on the concrete bench in the cell and holds her chest.
“Are you okay, sweetie?”
“I’m alright for now. I’m out of my medication. My chest is a little tight and sore, but I’ll be okay as long as I get my medicine soon.”
“I’m Abel, Sophie. I’m friends with your brother.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Abel, and it’s comforting to have someone with me. I’m sorry for you, though,” Sophie says, and her breath sounds shallow and laborious.
“It’s good to meet you too. Although I wish it was under better circumstances. Hopefully, Adam, Becks, and Ian will get us out of here soon,” I say and sit down next to Sophie. I’m not sure what I can do for her so I just try to rub her back soothingly.
Within minutes, her skin is even more ashen, and Sophie’s lips have a slight blue tint. She looks like she’s in terrible pain, and I’ve got to do something.
“I’m going to call for help. Surely the man who put us in here will help,” I say and go to the bars enclosing us.
“No, it’s okay. I don’t want to draw attention to us right now. I’m sure I’ll be good for a while longer.”
“No. You need help.” I’m about to call out, but I hear Vladimir’s angry voice in the distance.
He’s coming this way and shouting at his men in Russian. In moments, he’s in front of me. Vladimir’s eyes are wild with rage and I think we’re done. This is it; he’s here to kill us both.
“Get them out. We’re going right now,” he barks at the man who is familiar with Sophie.
The look of relief on his face is quickly replaced with dread when he sees Sophie’s condition. He goes over to her and scoops her up. “I’ll carry her. This one is sick, boss,” he says in what I assume is his fake Russian accent.
“Whatever. Let’s just go,” Vladimir says and shoves me forward.
“What’s going on?” I ask when we’re in the SUV, speeding towards our destination.
“You’re lover boy gave me a fake drive, and the one I got is destroying everything. Looks like you’re going home after all,” Vladimir says, and I can tell the words taste bitter in his mouth.
It makes me smile a little, despite my continued peril. I’m flooded with worry all over again when I see Sophie leaning up against the man who carried her to the car. She’s almost unconscious and her breathing is very shallow. Vladimir doesn’t notice because he’s so enraged, but the man is holding Sophie’s hand and whispering in her ear.
We’re going to be okay. I keep chanting that in my head until we pull up in front of the Grove. It’s an orchard where families can pick apples and other fruits, but it’s not open for the season yet. This must be the place for the exchange.