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“I am not leaving until I get inside this nice tight pussy,” Dead Motherfucker muttered.
A battle roar climbed up the back of my throat!
Nostrils flaring, fury redlining, I steamrolled my way across that dirt floor. “You’re right. You are not leaving.”
“Aris!” Roya’s hoarse cry registered but I didn’t stop.
Dead Motherfucker had one second to glance over his shoulder, all the whites of his eyes showing. Then I was on him.
I tore him off Roya. I flung him around, tossing him into the opposite wall with spine-crushing force. I snarled with all the savagery borne of life-affirming rage.
He staggered, his limp penis hanging out, arms up to ward me off.
“You are not leaving. Ever.” The overriding need for vengeance roared through my veins, and I lifted my Vektor sidearm.
I leveled the business end right against his forehead. I punched the trigger and put a bullet in his brain.
Before he even flopped to the floor, I’d spun away.
“Roya! Roya!” Rushing over, I dropped down to her, thankful Yas had somehow made such quick work of the shackles.
I took her from Yas where she’d been carefully covering Roya’s nude and bruised body. Huddling her against me, I kept whispering her name, my hands shaking as I yanked my shirt up and off. It was now dusty and dirty, but I couldn’t bear the thought of anyone else seeing her naked; the idea that she’d been stripped out of her clothes—that she’d been so mistreated and manhandled—made my heart hollow out.
I pulled the shirt over her face that was wet with tears and so drained of color. I handled her gently, just desperate to be able to hold her. When I finally had her covered up, I wrapped her in my arms, and she simply collapsed.
My poor woman was beaten, exhausted, cold. Several welts swelled on her face, her midsection was mottled and discolored too. Her nipples had looked severely abused. Blyad. Deep, bloody gashes cut into her at the wrists and ankles. Even the fine gold bracelets I’d given her were stained with dried blood that had seeped from her wounds.
“Roya, Roya. I’m so sorry.” I dried the tears that kept dripping in big fat dollops from her beloved eyes.
Zain maintained watch at the door.
Konstantin came to me—his eyes averted—and handed me a blanket, which he must’ve had in his backpack.
Thankful, I immediately enveloped Roya in the soft fabric as Yas offered a bottle of water.
I quickly uncapped it and held the top at Roya’s dry, cracked lips. She drank slowly, a sigh going through her.
“Oh, Roya.” I tenderly traced her face with my fingertips. “What the fuck did they do to you?”
Her voice was shaky, raspy and low. “You came in time.” Her face crumpled and another onslaught of tears poured out, but she continued, “You got here before the worst violation could happen.”
No rape. Oh, fuck. Thank fuck.
Through the wet sheen of tears, she looked at me. “How are you here? I didn’t think you’d—”
“Jesus Christ, woman. I’d go to the ends of the fucking earth to find you.” I cinched her tighter to me, ever mindful of the bruises and wounds littering her body.
A series of squawks and bursts of sound came over my earpiece.
Then one of my soldiers reported, “We’ve chased the rest of Abdullah’s men out behind the fortress. I think they’re guarding him out here, trying to get him away from the compound.”
As far as I was concerned, every single one of those sukas was guilty of assault and abduction, and my men had free license to dust them all.
But there was one fuck in particular I wanted.
I immediately stiffened, turning my head from Roya to mutter into the coms, “Abdullah is mine.”
Roya latched onto my arm. “My cousin Rafiq will be with him. Please don’t let them hurt him. He didn’t want any part of this. He tried to help.”
My teeth gritted together even as I kept my hands gentle on her.
“Fine.” I relented. “For you I’ll make sure he isn’t harmed. As for your Uncle—”
“I want him dead,” she uttered fiercely.
Nodding, I kissed her quickly. “You have my word.”
Hunkering near, Yas put on a grimace. “And I suppose I’m stuck on babysitting duty again.”
Then she winked at Roya to take the sting out of her words.
“Da.” I stood after one last caress of Roya’s face, and she clung weakly to my hand.
“Be careful,” she whispered.
“Don’t worry about him,” Yas said. “He’s very thorough when he’s in a murderous rage. And, if I’m not mistaken, your uncle is a fucking pussy anyway.”
Beckoning Konstantin to me, we prepared for the final attack. I glanced at my woman one last time, loathe to leave her like this.
Maybe Yas sensed my unease because she slowly helped Roya to stand. “I’m taking her out of this hellhole. We’ll be topside.”
“Be careful. Bring Zain with you,” I ordered.
For a moment I thought the tough female would rebel, but then she just shrugged.
Konstantin and I left that dingy cell, sprinting in the opposite direction from which we’d come.
I wasn’t going to stop until Abdullah’s blood was nothing more than a red smear on the ochre-colored earth.
Up again through a tunnel, we were spit out into the bright sunshine behind the fortress’s main building. From there, it didn’t take long to pick up the trail of dead bodies left by my soldiers, the kill shots clean.
And then, in a large circular pit surrounded by big blocks of stone, Abdullah stood in the crosshairs of about twenty guns, my men circling the pit.
The fucking coward used his own son as a human shield, continually shifting position.
“If you shoot at me, you’ll only hurt him. Do you really want the blood of an innocent on your hands?” The cunt sought to bargain for his life.
I slid through my soldiers and leaped down into the shallow pit. My sights narrowed on his sweat-slick and shiny balding head. He had the same beak of a nose as his brother, but there the resemblance ended. This fucker was heftier, and there was a wild gleam in his eyes.
