Page 40 of Saving Helena
Despite the fear gnawing at the edges of my mind, there's only one thought driving me forward: Helena. No matter the danger or cost, I would do whatever it took to bring her back safely.
Whoever took Helena from her place of work and forced her into a vehicle, then they’ve brought themselves a world of hurt. War. There wasn’t any getting around it, and I was willing to tear apart the world brick by brick to get her back.
We needed weapons, though, at the very least—and a vote. I wouldn’t say I liked the extra time it would take, but it had to be done. We could hurry it up, but we couldn’t skip that step, and I couldn’t do it alone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Helena
As consciousness slowly seeped back into my mind, I found my senses dulled. With a groan, I struggled to push through the sticky veil that seemed to surround me, my eyelids fluttering open to reveal the dimly lit surroundings of the room. I woke groggy, unsure of where I was. It came in pieces, jagged and uncertain. I’d been drugged.
At first, everything was a blur, and my vision was clouded. I couldn’t tell how long I’d been out, but my head hurt almost unbearably. My eyes adjusted to the dim light, and the details of the room came into focus. It was small and cramped, with bare walls and a tiny window covered by heavy curtains blocking any semblance of daylight.
The air was heavy with the scent of stale cigarette smoke and cheap cologne, making my stomach churn with nausea. My head throbbed, a lingering reminder of whatever had happened before I lost consciousness.
Panic clawed at the edges of my mind as the memories came flooding back, the events crashing over me like a tidal wave. The diner, the men with the accent, being dragged away ... The realization hit me like a ton of bricks, sending a shiver of fear down my spine.
Was I in Makarovich’s hands now? The thought sent a surge of adrenaline coursing through my veins, my heart pounding in my chest like a drumbeat of dread. Shit, I needed to find a way out of here. There was no telling what could happen to me here. If this was Makarovich, they might be looking for information on what I knew or … worse, revenge for the drives I’d sent out. I had no idea what repercussions occurred after those were sent out. I probably really pissed him off.
Glancing around the room, I searched for any sign of escape, but the window was too small to fit through, and the door was securely locked. There didn’t seem to be a way out, and there was no way to call for help.
Maddox wouldn’t let me down. He’d come for me. There would be hell to pay when he found out I was gone. My mind raced … I was on break so Daisy would look for me. She wouldn’t have let me go very long. She’d call the clubhouse – right? Suddenly struck with anxiety, I mulled over the time frame I’d need to have been gone before she’d make the call. I had told Vito about the men in the dining room, so that’d been at least been good. Probably the only smart thing I’d done.
As I gathered my resolve and pushed myself into a sitting position on the narrow bed, I winced as a wave of dizziness washed over me. The room spun momentarily before gradually settling into place, disorienting me.
My clothes were still intact, so that was something. Just as I was taking inventory, the door swung open, and one of the men who had been in the diner earlier sauntered in. He looked so smug that I wanted to vomit. Was he proud of hitting a woman over the head? What a dick.
“I got her, look,” he said as he entered the room. He was talking to someone over his shoulder, though they were behind him, and I couldn’t see them. His words were like a knife twisting in my gut, a sickening reminder of the kind of people these were.
I squared my shoulders and met his gaze head-on, refusing to show any sign of weakness. At the very least, a little resilience. “You won't get away with this," I spat, trembling.
His smirk faltered for a moment, replaced by a flash of irritation. "Feisty one, ain't she?" he muttered, glancing over his shoulder at the unseen figure behind him. "Well, someone’ll have to train her up.”
I’d always been protected in this world by my father, by my last name. The Brotherhood had never been involved in anything to do with trading women. There were club girls, but anything regarding women was done with their consent. This was the first time that I was powerless. I was undoubtedly here due to my stupidity, and in this dingy room, there wasn’t anything to bargain, and I knew it.
Dread pooled in the pit of my stomach like a lead weight. What could they have planned for me? Uncertainty gnawed at me, fueling my fear and desperation.
Before I could respond, the man turned his attention back to me, his gaze cold and calculating.
"You're gonna stay put in here until we’re ready for you," he said, his tone laced with menace. "Don't even think about trying anything funny. We don't take kindly to mouthy bitches."
With that ominous warning in the air, the man turned on his heel and strode out of the room, leaving me alone once more. I was left reeling, my mind racing about how to escape and survive.
Maddox and the Brotherhood would come for me. I was sure of it. And when they did, I would be ready. Until then, all I could do was bide my time and do my best to watch for an opening to rescue myself if I could. With that thought to cling to, I steeled myself for whatever might come, determined to stay strong. No matter what, I wouldn’t give up without a fight.
Sinking onto the bed, I leaned my head against the wall, not daring to close my eyes even though I was still groggy from whatever they drugged me with. My stomach turned over. The bacon that had seemed delicious earlier now appeared on a spin-cycle. I tried to center my thoughts on Maddox, the light hazel green in his eyes. The way his hands had felt on my hips yesterday. Tears sprung in my eyes at the possibility that I might not get the chance to be with him again in that way, that someone else might touch me first. Quickly wiping them away, I reminded myself those thoughts weren’t productive.
When the door creaked open once more, it was to reveal the imposing figure of Sergei. Well, that confirmed it. I was well and truly screwed, but I rose to my feet anyway. There was no way that I wouldn’t stand and face whatever was coming.
“So, you thought you could run away?” He was all cold fury, his eyes glacial.
At Concorde, I worked for years without a hint of people like Makarovich or Sergei. The accounting job had been the furthest away from the MC life as possible, or so I’d thought. My dad would have never dreamed I’d end up tangled in this mess. It was almost laughable. I’d turned over all the facts in my head, trying to figure out a timeline for when they’d shown up, and I couldn’t find one.
“I went on vacation.” Maybe a bluff would work. If I denied that I knew anything, would that save me? It was a long shot, but I had nothing else to think of at this red-hot moment.
Sergei snorted without humor. “Suka, don’t lie to me. Lies don’t do you any good. The boss blamed me, you know.”
Uh oh. This wasn’t good. I wasn’t sure what Sergei was blamed for, but I didn’t want anything to do with Makarovich blaming him for anything. The way he looked at me meant all bad things to me.
