I quickly pulled on a pair of jeans and a cute little top. I didn’t recognize the brands but who cares. Grabbing the little bit of make-up I had purchased at a Dollar store down the street, I did my best to look presentable. With my hair and make-up finally looking good, I slipped on a pair of heels – also second-hand – and grabbed my purse and keys. One final look at myself in the mirror and I was off to…Where the hell was I going?
As I opened the door to my room, I quickly scanned the parking lot for familiar faces or anything out of the ordinary. When everything appeared to be okay, I dashed to the car. After a week here, I had learned that most of the people that come here seem to only stay an hour or so and then disappear. That was fine by me, but I still kept my eyes open, the door locked-up tight and the curtains drawn closed.
All dolled-up and ready to have a little fun, I pulled out of the motel parking lot in my rusted-up car. The bright lights of Vegas shimmered in the distance, calling my name. Ignoring their call, I pressed the gas pedal to the floor, the car lurching forward as if it was as eager to escape the dump of a motel as I was. The need to have fun and the need to stay safe and blend in warred within me. After driving around for an hour, I found a bar and swung into the parking lot, tires screeching. A few drinks and I’d return to the boring room that was becoming my chosen prison.
Chapter Eight – Ruslan
“Yes, I have my demons and this is my way of exorcising them. It gets them out – and better out than in.”
-Naomi Watts
After the short, and very unsettling, call from Liliya Markow, I knew without a doubt this girl was trouble with a capital T. There was no doubt about it. When I heard her voice on the line, I had planned to drag out whatever information I could, but she had clammed-up tighter than a virgin. She seemed scared of something. Of what, I wasn’t exactly sure, but I wanted to know. Just asking her what was wrong had caused her to regret calling me. Sure, that had pissed me off. No woman, or man for that matter, had ever denied me, much less hung up on me. Hell, men had died for doing far less than that.
Disrespect was just one of my many pet peeves, and Liliya was somehow able to push every single button I had. Not all of them bad. Her call had left me agitated, my palms itching to spank her little ass until she understood what she had done wrong. I ached to punish her. I ached to bend her to my will, to consume her in every way that I could, and then some. Imagining her sweet little body bent over my lap, her taut little ass burning pink from my ministrations made my cock grow hard as granite. Fuck! I needed to have her. And just like that, I knew that, war be damned, I would fucking have her.
With a heavy sigh, I let my mind wander over the information I’d received from Bobby just this evening. He’d jumped through hoops, reaching out to every contact we had in New York to get the scoop on our girl. There hadn’t been very much in the way of details about Liliya, and absolutely nothing about why she was suddenly a fixture in Vegas. The most shocking news of all that Bobby relayed to me about her father and his second-in-command was more of a concern. They were searching for the princess, too.
Word on the street was the Markow family was searching high and low for the missing girl, and having little to no luck. Good. They were dishing out threats as they scoured the streets of New York like cockroaches. Somehow, their sweet little princess had managed to skip town without being noticed. She hadn’t left a fucking bread crumb one for them to follow.
Smart girl.
Damn smart.
The fact that I knew where she was gave me the upper hand. For months, I have known they were up to something, but for once, they had been able to hide their plans.
With a glance at the clock, I realized I needed to move my ass. I had thirty minutes to make it to the weekly meeting with my men at the club, Obol’shcheniye… or Seduction, as the locals called it. Of all the clubs in Vegas, Obol’shcheniye was the place to be if you were looking for a damn good time.
Before I can make it out the door, my phone chimed with another incoming message. Vlad had been blowing my phone up all week with stupid little updates on the princess, most of which made my blood boil. The guy had no shame. Sometimes he said shit without thinking, or hell, maybe he did think and just wanted to get a rise out of me. It was fucking working. But as much as he pissed me off, he was a damned good man, trustworthy and loyal to a fault. I let him get away with a few snarky, yet humorous, remarks because men like him were few and far between these days. Pulling the phone from my pocket, I slid my finger over the screen, pulling up his message.
Vlad: Girl is on the move. Went to a bar. Want me to go in???
Ruslan: Blyad’ Da! ‘Fuck yes.’ Protect her. Call me if problems arise.
Vlad: Da.