Page 45 of Saving Helena
Pushing out into the heat from the cool of the car, I reminded myself that this was Dimitri’s show. We were here as part of his entourage. This was about getting Helena back, not about shooting these fuckers — not yet.
“Lead the way then. Don’t make me wait.” Dimitri’s accent was more pronounced than ever as he addressed the men on the porch. They looked at each other apprehensively.
“Of course, sir. We had been expecting the pakhan. Sergei had said …”
Dimitri cut him off with a growl as he pulled his gun and pointed it at the one who spoke. “I speak for my brother and the Volkov Bratva. Do not doubt it.” He smiled with malicious glee, a sight I’d seen a few times that I’d rather forget. “I only need one of you.” The bullet hit the first man right between the eyes.
Pounding feet could be heard from the farmhouse’s interior as the remainder of the men had heard the shot. The man’s body had fallen unceremoniously onto the worn wooden planks, the pool of blood already spreading far enough that I had to step to the side so I wouldn’t be getting that shit all over my boots.
I sighed, “Fuck, you’re so messy.”
Dimitri waved his gun and gestured for the remaining man to move forward into the house and towards the footsteps that still seemed to be headed our way. “Let them know Dimitri Volkov has arrived for Helena Marsh. I don’t have all day either.”
Dimitri pushed him forward roughly right into the oncoming two men. The count of four men was on target then. One of the oncoming men was heavy and lumbering. He struggled to keep up with the second man, whip-thin with balding hair.
“Company, the Volkovs,” the man from the porch said. “He shot John,” he added.
“Toss the guns,” Dimitri demanded, giving his gun another wave casually at them. To the Bratva men, he said, “Prover’ ikh.”
The men moved forward to incentivize them as they resignedly divested them of their weapons. Brusquely, they patted them down.
My eyes searched for any signs of Helena, but the house’s interior was empty, except for a questionable-looking couch that looked like it could have come from any random thrift store.
“You’re here on behalf of the pakhan?” The voice sounded from the top of the stairway. This must be Sergei, stocky, muscled with blond hair and eyes that glinted even from here.
“Da,” Dimitri grunted. “I am Dimitri Volkov. Where is the girl? The pakhan sent me for her.” Dimitri had stowed his gun and had taken his knife out, cleaning his nails casually. If only Sergei knew that Dimitri had disemboweled people with it.
There was a moment of quiet, only an awkward shuffling of feet as the men looked from us to Sergei. I held myself still, trying to project Dimitri’s boredom as if we had all the time in the world when, in reality, my heart was thundering in my chest. What did it say that she wasn’t calling out for us? She must have heard the shot.
“You killed my man.” Sergei peered out at the porch in the sunshine with disquiet.
“I’m not here to play fucking patty cake. You have breached trust with the Bratva. Where is the girl? She has the information we want.” Dimitri’s voice was cold as ice, his stand hard.
Sergei’s shoulders slumped in defeat, and then indicated one of the bedrooms at the top of the stairs with a chin lift. “In there.”
“Very good. Let’s discuss while my men fetch her.” He waved an imperious hand down the stairs to indicate that Sergei should come down. “Go get the Marsh girl,” he said to Pike and I.
I was tired of playing this game. My boots thundered as I rushed the staircase, and I didn’t hesitate to give Sergei a hard push as I went past him, sending him tumbling down the steps. Turning, I gave Dimitri a stern glare. “No killing him yet,” I said, even as his body was falling down the steps.
Sergei’s men were beginning to rouse, struggling to put the pieces together in this new scenario and trying to figure out how they’d been duped. Still, Dimitri’s soldiers were already raising their guns and executing them efficiently.
Pike’s hand on my shoulder kept me moving forward, pushing me to the top of the staircase. As the door swung open, the momentum carried me into the room, but I came to a screeching halt. I’d known Sergei had ‘lost his temper’; I’d not known what that meant. Helena lay unmoving in the back corner of the room, one hand outstretched to me. Every inch of her appeared to be beaten; her face was already swollen and bruised, and her shirt torn, but the rest of her clothing seemed to be intact. Her delicate hands spread on the carpet as if she were tracing patterns in it. Even they hadn’t been spared.
“Maddox.” Her lips quirked into a semblance of a smile.
The words were a whisper, a prayer. She was alive, at least, but she was barely conscious. Kneeling beside her, I was careful not to touch her. “Princess, help is here. You’ll be okay.” My heart was breaking as I looked at her, my angel princess.
“We’re going to need to take her to a hospital,” Pike said behind me. I agreed; her injuries were extensive.
“Baby, I’m just going to take a look and see what that asshole did. Let me see how bad this is.” Lifting the edges of her shirt gingerly, she winced at the bruising along her ribs that was already present. Fuck. “Helena.” Placing my hand softly against the curve of her face, I tried to bring her back to me. “I’m going to need to lift you. It’s going to hurt.”
“Don’t leave me.”
“Never, princess. Never.”
“Should we move her?” Pike asks. “Maybe we should call an ambulance.”
“We have to. There are four bodies downstairs, and no time to move them. She can’t wait for us to clean this up.” I could feel the reverberation of the bikes as the rest of the Brotherhood and the Cobras arrived outside. Hopefully, they could deal with the cleanup.