Vengeance (SSU Trilogy Book 1) Page 4

  If the crime lord got his hands on the lady…shit. She’d soon be praying for death.

  “I’m sending across Jenna’s file,” Ryker said. “Let me know if you have any questions. If you get into trouble in Moscow, call me. I have a few…friends…I can call in an emergency. But don’t trust anyone at the SSU but myself or your brother. I think we have a mole.”

  Niko smiled. Ryker was known as a miracle maker. With contacts just about everywhere in the world, he’d pulled more than one of his people out of situations where others would have written the operator off as dead. Ryker’s dedication to his employees was one of the main reasons Niko had left the DEA and joined the SSU. And why it chafed to lie to him.

  But Ryker would want Alvarez captured and returned to prison. That wasn’t good enough for Niko. It was time Niko’s family was freed from the monster who’d tormented them for years.

  And while he didn’t think Alvarez was behind the mole within the SSU, he wasn’t risking Aunt Madalena’s life on it.

  Chapter 3

  Monday, Early Evening

  Moscow, Russia

  Jenna grit her teeth and tried to keep a smile on her face as Mark Tonelli led her up the sidewalk toward yet another bar. Unlike the half dozen other establishments they’d visited today, no attempt had been made to dress up the outside of this place. There were no potted plants or exotic sculptures here. Just a wooden sign with black, faded lettering and a rusty metal bench facing the sidewalk.

  Bleak as Jenna was beginning to feel now that they’d failed to locate anyone who’d seen her brother since the initial spotting. Still, this was the closest the SSU had come to finding Kai in two years. There was no way she was giving up yet.

  As they turned up the path toward the entrance, the edge of Jenna’s stiletto heel caught on a loose paving tile. She pitched forward.

  “Watch it!” Mark yanked her out of her free fall and tightened his grip on her arm, practically dragging her onto the chipped concrete step and through the heavy wooden door.

  Jenna tugged her arm free. “Quit snapping at me,” she snarled for his ears only. “You’re the one who insisted I wear these damn high heels!” She was sick and tired of his high-and-mighty attitude. Since they’d arrived the night before last, he’d been pulling her around town with as much disregard for her feelings or her comfort as if she were a blow-up doll.

  The doorman stepped forward. His eyes as they scanned her were weary as a centenarian’s, even though he couldn’t be more than a few years older than her twenty-six. Jenna stifled a wave of pity and forced her aching cheek muscles into a coy smile.

  When Ryker had said she’d be bait, she’d never imagined she’d be flashing cleavage and flirting with strangers, trying to get them to loosen their tongues.

  “You’re scrawny and ugly, but your boobs aren’t bad,” Mark had told her. “You have to fit the image of the flashy women I’m usually seen with, or my contacts will know something is off.” Then he’d tossed her a push-up bra. “This will help.”

  It hadn’t worked so far, and this was their second day canvassing the Moscow neighborhood where the informant had spotted Kai. Since Mark’s infamous Moscow contacts had failed to locate her brother, his backup plan was to parade her around town while showing Kai’s photo.

  So far, zilch. And each time they left a bar without any information on Kai, Mark’s smile tightened and Jenna’s frustration grew.

  They’d questioned the man who’d made the original report, but all he remembered was seeing a man with Kai’s distinctive amber eyes getting into a taxi. The informant had been photographing a man standing on the curb and only realized after he’d printed the photo that Kai was the man in the reward notice.

  Mark spoked to the doorman in Russian. Since Jenna didn’t understand the language, she turned her attention to the interior of the bar. By habit, she made note of all possible exit routes—the two, high-set windows, the hallway leading to the restrooms and possibly a back entrance. Satisfied that she knew how to get out in an emergency, and where to watch for entering attackers, she took a deep breath. Then coughed at the bitter taste of cigarette smoke.

  Through the stinging haze, shone dim light from iron lanterns set every few feet along the wall. Thick, dark slabs of wood, their surfaces worn to a greasy shine, formed the tables. Groups of rough-looking men and the occasional worn-down couple filled about half the tables. A few older men sat at the bar. Most everyone wore jeans or coveralls.

  Mark’s Yves St. Laurent suit and diamond-studded, gold pinky ring were totally out of place. Unfortunately, so was she. Her dress was a deep burgundy silk. The straps were nice and solid, maybe two-inches wide, but the square neck was so low-cut, her nipples threatened to pop out every time she inhaled. The dress ended mid-thigh and stuck to her like cling-wrap. She wore elbow-length gloves that matched the dress. A pillbox hat with a wisp of veil rested on her bright blonde wig.

  “Kai will never recognize me in this ridiculous call-girl outfit,” she’d pointed out when Mark presented her with her new wardrobe. “I wore funky, eclectic clothes, my hair was honey blonde not yellow, and I never wore this much makeup except for dance recitals.”

  “He’s your big brother. If he has any protective instincts left he’ll want to know why you’re dressed like a whore.”

  “Or it will just make him more determined to kill me!”

  Mark had shrugged. “Either way, you’ll draw his attention, which is what we want.” Then he’d handed her a rhinestone choker to hide the thick, raised scar across the center of her neck.

  “Oh no,” she’d protested. Since the attack she hated anything pressing against her throat.

  “This isn’t about you,” Mark had sneered. “Do you want to find your brother or not?”

  She’d put on the damn choker, but if they didn’t get any results today, then tomorrow she was insisting on a different strategy. One where she was allowed to dress the way she wanted in a t-shirt and cargo pants. She couldn’t stand being on display any more.

  The doorman responded to Mark’s question and shook his head, but his gaze remained stuck on Jenna’s well-exposed cleavage.

  She shivered. Her skin felt both icy and burning. There was so much acid in her stomach, she was surprised it hadn’t eaten a hole through the lining. Even before the attack this type of predatory scrutiny would have creeped her out. Now, each lecherous stare was like a muddy handprint on her bare skin. She felt so dirty, she’d half expected the water in her shower to run black last night.

  Gritting her teeth at the doorman’s ogling, Jenna fought the urge to run back to their hotel and hide under the covers. Her fingers itched to at least grab Mark’s coat and use it to hide her body. Instead, she grabbed the confidence she’d slowly rebuilt in the two years since the attack and counted to a hundred in her head. In German.

  When this was over, she was burning the damned push-up bra. No, better yet, she’d wrap it around Mark’s smug neck and strangle him with it.

  Mark barked out a question and flashed Kai’s photo at the doorman. With a resigned sigh, the man pulled his eyes away from her chest. She watched his face as he examined the picture.

  Nothing. Not a flicker of recognition.

  Feeling the slight goose-pimpling of her skin that meant someone else was watching her, Jenna inched closer to Mark and scanned the patrons. No eyes stared back at her. Still, she wished Mark would hurry up. She wanted to get out of here.

  When they’d left the SSU compound she’d had no idea that arriving in an unfamiliar culture would be so unsettling. She used to love to travel. Not understanding Russian, though, made her feel dependent. Being all-too-aware that her identity as Kai’s sister attracted potentially deadly attention made her feel vulnerable. She wished her SSU teammates were here to back her up. Maybe then her stomach wouldn’t be tied in enough knots to anchor the space shuttle.

  Dammit, the calm she’d worked so hard to achieve since the attack was crumbling. Last night, after a
ten-month hiatus, her nightmares had returned. Blood. Pain. Screams and helplessness.

  Forcing the memories and emotions back into an imaginary safe box had left her shaking with exhaustion. She’d sat upright in the middle of her bed with every light on, teeth chattering with cold despite being wrapped in the heavy bedspread. Without Monroe’s comforting presence at the foot of her bed, it had taken hours to calm herself down. She’d finally dropped into an exhausted sleep mere hours before the alarm clock went off.

  Three laughing women pushed past Jenna, knocking against her as they headed into the bar with arms linked. Although she didn’t understand what they were saying, deep friendship showed in their relaxed smiles and the teasing light in their eyes.

  For a crazy, wistful moment, Jenna wanted to join their group. How long had it been since she’d been that carefree? Since she’d had girlfriends to hang out with? She’d been so focused on becoming strong enough to take on Kai, she’d ignored everything and everyone else in her life.

  She mentally shook her head. Why was she suddenly having regrets now? Nothing she’d lost could compare to the twins losing all the potential of their young lives.

  Mark laughed at something the doorman said, pulling her attention away from unproductive and unsettling questions. When she’d asked him last night what he was telling people about her he’d replied, “That you’re my fiancée. Only you won’t marry me without your brother’s consent, since he’s the head of the household. We’re looking for your darling brother, but it seems he’s disappeared. Anyone who sees those spooky, amber eyes of yours will know you’re related and it might jog their memory.”

  Mark slapped the doorman on the back, then dipped his head like a king bestowing a royal favor. He turned toward her and placed his hand at the small of her back, ushering her further inside. Usually Mark’s touch made her uneasy, but right now it made her feel protected from the hidden eyes.

  They headed for the unoccupied end of the bar. Mark called the bartender over and showed him Kai’s photo. The man crossed his arms and shook his head. Mark said something else and the bartender gave the photo a cursory second glance. “Nyet.”

  Mark shrugged and put the photo away.

  The bartender darted a quick glance at Jenna, then turned around and pulled a bottle of vodka off the shelf behind him.

  When they were seated at a table, Jenna murmured, “What did they say?”

  “Nothing. They haven’t seen your brother.”

  Jenna looked up and caught the bartender staring at her. He met her glance with a guilt-tinged scowl, then grabbed an empty glass off the bar and slopped some vodka into it.

  For the first time in two years, she felt excitement sizzle across her skin.

  Mark was lying. The bartender had recognized the photo. If Mark wasn’t going to share that information with her, she’d return later.

  On her own.

  #

  Ten minutes later, Jenna wobbled down the hallway from the ladies room. Her toes throbbed inside the tight, towering stilettos, making it hard to walk a straight line. To take her mind off the pain, she pictured herself back in the hotel room, kicking off her shoes and sinking her toes into the plush carpet.

  A shadow fell across the hallway, turning it dark and yanking her attention away from her fantasy. She glanced up and all her senses went on alert.

  A man the size of a refrigerator was walking toward her, taking up almost the entire width of the tiny corridor. She inched closer to the wall to let him go by, careful not to meet his eyes. But he didn’t pass.

  He stopped in front of her, grunted something in Russian, and pinned her against the wall with his body. His erection pressed against her stomach. One meaty fist trapped her arms over her head. Air left the man’s mouth in rapid puffs, keeping time as his pelvis ground against her.

  Jenna froze as memory shoved her back in time.

  It hurt, it hurt, it hurt!

  She wanted to run, but the man had her pinned on her stomach, one hand pressing at the back of her neck, so her cheek was mashed into the living room carpet. She could hear her own panicked gasps underneath the man’s excited panting.

  Please, make it stop!

  Fear clawed its desperate way up her throat, choking her. Bringing her back to the moment.

  She opened her mouth to scream, to say no, but just like in her nightmares no sound came out. No! This couldn’t be happening. But even though her lips formed screams and pleas for help, her voice refused to cooperate. It was like her throat had been cut all over again.

  She tried to tug her arms free, but the man just tightened his grip until she thought her veins would burst. She tried to kick him, but his legs had hers trapped. Kept trying to force a scream past her lips without success.

  Stupid! What good was her training if she lost focus long enough to get herself pinned?

  The man’s eyes watched with an eager smile as his free hand dipped under her neckline and squeezed her breast.

  It was like being touched by damp sausages. Jenna sucked in her belly and pushed back against the wall, as if she could retract her body into a two-dimensional line. Once again she tried to scream, but barely managed a faint croak.

  The man grinned, shooting a stream of alcohol-laden air her way. The scent hit the back of her throat and she gagged.

  Jenna turned her head and frantically scanned the floor. Where was her purse? If she could grab it, she had a weapon inside. But she didn’t see it anywhere.

  The man pinched her nipple with his fingernails. She flinched and tried harder to squirm away. Formed the word “No” clearly with her lips even though no sound came out. Shook her head.

  The man laughed.

  Jenna’s eyes darted to the entrance of the hallway. Dammit, why didn’t someone help her? Couldn’t anyone see what was happening?

  Wasn’t Mark worried that she was taking too long?

  The man bent his head and shoved his face into her cleavage. Jenna bit his ear and kept her teeth together even as the man yelped and jerked back. The tip of his ear came off in her mouth and she spit it out.

  He let her go to put his hands to his ear, cursing all the while. Jenna ignored him and darted down the hall. But her skirt was too tight and too short, and her heels were too high. She tripped, righted herself, then hiked up her skirt and ran.

  Please, let me make it—

  Something hard hit her in the back of the head, knocking her onto her hands and knees. Her hat tumbled to the dirt-encrusted floor. Silver dots danced in front of her eyes.

  No. She had to get up.

  The man kicked her in the butt, sending her sprawling onto her stomach, then reached down and grabbed her by the rhinestone choker. He yanked her up and into a headlock, his forearm pressing against her windpipe, cutting off her air.

  The edges of the choker cut into her skin and her vision melted into a whirlpool of color. Her legs gave out. She was dimly aware that the only thing holding her upright was the pressure the man had on her throat.

  She floated between consciousness and darkness.

  Fight! You have a mission. Don’t give up. Don’t leave your family unavenged.

  The pain of her forehead hitting something cold and hard brought her back to herself. She opened her eyes. Her head was slammed once, twice onto the sharp edge of a faucet, then dropped into a basin full of water.

  Sputtering, fighting another wave of dizziness, she levered herself out of the basin. She caught a glimpse of a urinal out of the corner of her eye before a wide palm slammed her head back into the water.

  She held her breath and pushed her head up against his hand, trying to break free. But he only pressed harder.

  So she let her body go limp.

  Convinced she was done fighting, her attacker grabbed her hips and positioned them so they were pointing straight back.

  He shoved her skirt up to her waist and tore off her panties. Jammed them into the water under her nose to help block the drain better.

&n
bsp; Cool air slid across her buttocks. She felt him lower his zipper.

  No! She would not be raped again.

  Patches of color flashed across her closed eyelids. If she didn’t get air soon, she’d lose consciousness.

  Her attacker stepped closer. He rubbed himself against her, bare flesh to bare flesh. In his excitement, his grip loosened.

  Jenna lunged up. The back of her head smacked with a satisfying crunch against his face.

  She spun to the side. He grabbed for her with one hand. She ducked and he overbalanced. She kicked the heel of her stiletto into the side of his kneecap, balled her fists together and hit him on the back of the neck. He staggered, but didn’t fall.

  So she hit him again. And again.

  All the rage she’d been keeping inside broke free. She was done with being a victim. Done with feeling out of control.

  She’d show this man she wasn’t helpless. Not to mess with her.

  She hadn’t been able to successfully fight back the night of the attack, but this time she could. Venting her anger over what had been done, she hit him. Her blows hammered down in time with her rapid exhales. She ignored the punches from the man’s fists that smashed against her head and torso.

  “Hurt,” she snarled as she kicked him, barely registering that her voice had returned. “I want you to hurt. Like you were going to hurt me. There! How does that feel? Or that?” The man slammed face down onto the floor but Jenna kept pummeling him.

  “I. Am. Not. A. Victim!” she yelled.

  A few moments later her blows stopped. Her body shuddered and she sank to her knees. Fighting back now didn’t change the truth.

  “They’re dead. They’re all dead,” she sobbed. “And now I’m all alone!”

  She hugged her chest and rocked back and forth. But she couldn’t stop the ache. And she was so cold.

  Cold and alone.

  God, she missed her family so much!

  Tears surged down her face.

  Jenna collapsed to the floor and curled up in a fetal position.