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“Time to get ready.” It’s Grigoriy, and he’s holding up a cheap-ass wedding dress. “The priest is here.”
Chapter 11
Mackenzie
I swallow, hard, my eyes filling with tears.
He’s actually going to make us do this.
My thoughts go to Dom and Tino. I think how angry they were when they found out Kirill had proposed. They thought he was trying to take me for himself. How will they react when they find out we’re married? Will they see it as the end of us?
I tell myself that worse things could happen. Even if Kirill and I are married, we’ll still be alive. We’ll still be together. But my heart aches at the potential loss of the other two men in my life. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. It was meant to be the four of us against the world.
Another possibility occurs to me. If Grigoriy takes us both back to Russia once the wedding is done, we might never see them again.
My mind blurs, and I try to think of something to buy us some time.
“Please, let me use the bathroom first,” I blurt. “You can’t expect me to get married like this. I need to shower.”
I don’t think he’s going to let me, preferring to see me standing in a wedding dress, covered in the cum of multiple men, but, to my surprise, he nods.
“Very well, but the collar stays on.”
He approaches the cage and takes a key from his back pocket.
I throw a subtle look to Kirill. If he lets me out of here, he’ll have to undo the cage door. Maybe Kirill can use the moment to run.
But Grigoriy has predicted our action, and, together with the key, he produces a gun. “And don’t try anything stupid.”
Grigoriy uses the key to open the padlock, and I cry with relief to be able to get off my knees. I sink to my backside and stretch out my legs, rubbing at my poor kneecaps. They’re red from the pressure. The backs of my thighs are also tight, and I’ve been fighting cramps in my calves and feet.
Grigoriy bangs on the bars. “Hurry up.”
Slowly, I get to my feet and reach for Kirill. He takes my hand and pulls me in for a hug. I press my forehead to his chest, inhaling the familiar vanilla and spices scent of him.
“Let go of her,” his father commands. “We are going now.”
My heart beats faster, as it dawns on me that I’m about to be separated from Kirill.
I draw a breath, realizing my mistake. “Kirill can come with me.”
Grigoriy huffs air from his nostrils. “No, he can’t. Now, come here.”
He opens the gate. Kirill’s arms tighten around me, but I asked for this. I need to go.
“It’ll be all right,” I reassure him.
“Mackenzie, no.”
He so rarely uses my full name. I squeeze his fingers and then release him and go to his father.
Grigoriy hooks his finger into the ring on the collar and yanks me from the cage. Not wasting any time, he slams the gate shut again and locks his son back in.
“I’ll supervise your showering,” Grigoriy says.
I do my best to shake my head, despite the hold he has on me. “What? No.”
Kirill realizes what this means and slams himself against the bars of the cage. “Keep your filthy eyes off her.”
