Read Online Prisoner (Russian Tattoos Book 2) by Kat Shehata - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kat Shehata
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gobbed on two handfuls of conditioner, lathered up my body with lavender soap, and scrubbed my greasy face clean with a citrus wash. If it were up to me, I would have spent the entire afternoon enjoying my luxurious me-time. The scented soaps soothed my stressed out body, but when the hot water ran out and the shower turned cold, my spa day was over.
I dried off with a fluffy towel and changed into fresh clothes. Instead of Vladimir’s t-shirt and sweats, I had a new wardrobe of dacha-style floral dresses, scarves, knee socks, and lace-up leather riding boots. I felt like a Russian Laura Ingalls Wilder. Thanks to the strong meds Boris had given me for the pain, the fresh air and sunshine, and the hearty meal, I felt better than I had since I landed in Russia.
When I padded out of the bathroom, Boris was in the kitchen having tea with a sharp-looking behemoth in his early twenties. At first, I didn’t recognize him. His dark wavy hair was slicked back behind his ears and a short black beard trimmed to perfection framed his chubby cheeks. His face had matured, but those golden brown eyes were unmistakably Pasha’s—the youngest of Boris’s brood and Vladimir’s younger brother in their blended family. Pasha’s picture hung on Vladimir’s bedroom wall back home.
I tried to avoid detection and sneak back upstairs to hide out in the bedroom, but Boris waved me over to the kitchen and introduced me to his son. Pasha’s eyes lit up when I shook his hand. “I already know you, Carter. Vova never stops talking about you. Welcome.”
Vladimir had described his little brother as a “saint.” There was a kindness to Pasha’s face that made him instantly likeable, and his docile aura lightened his staggering height. He favored his papa in appearance, but his inviting smile and gentle eyes were traits unique to him.
“Did you get enough to eat? The soup is still warm. I can brew another pot of tea.” Pasha pulled out a chair and gestured for me to sit.
“Leave us,” Boris said. “Check on your brother. I need to speak to Carter alone.”
“ Da , Papa.” Without giving me another glance, Pasha ducked under the doorway to avoid hitting his head and went outside. Vladimir was in the yard with a small army of his crew, giving orders to his security team.
I took a seat across from Boris and balled my hands in my lap. His tone terrified me, and I had no clue what I had done to warrant the death rays he was firing at me. My plan with Boris going forward was to stay calm, quiet, and submissive. No sudden moves, no emotional outbursts. He looked haggard and war-torn from all the drama, and I didn’t want to set him off by adding any more weight to his mounting list of problems.
“I’ve seen video surveillance of the attack and the events leading up to it.” He set his phone on the table and tapped his finger on the screen. An intimidation technique, no doubt. “Anything you care to add to your story?”
His accusatory tone sent ripples of fear through my body. My heart pounded. My skin got clammy. I dropped my gaze to the floor, trying to figure out what I had done wrong that warranted his hostility. “I told you everything I remember.” I was so nervous, I slid my hands under my legs and dug my fingernails into my thighs, a self-destructive habit I had formed to relieve my ongoing stress.
“Everything? You’re sure?”
I sucked in my lips and nodded. I honestly had no clue what crime I had committed, but Boris wouldn’t be grilling me if I hadn’t done something horrible.
“When you noticed the shelter door was open to the outside, why did you not seize your opportunity to escape?”
I sighed in relief. I had started to believe I’d lost my mind. That was a no-brainer. “I was going to. Dmitri told me to run and lock the door behind me, but if I did, they would’ve killed him for sure.”
“What do you care if he lives or dies?”
His question caught me off guard. “Uh, because he’s a human
I dried off with a fluffy towel and changed into fresh clothes. Instead of Vladimir’s t-shirt and sweats, I had a new wardrobe of dacha-style floral dresses, scarves, knee socks, and lace-up leather riding boots. I felt like a Russian Laura Ingalls Wilder. Thanks to the strong meds Boris had given me for the pain, the fresh air and sunshine, and the hearty meal, I felt better than I had since I landed in Russia.
When I padded out of the bathroom, Boris was in the kitchen having tea with a sharp-looking behemoth in his early twenties. At first, I didn’t recognize him. His dark wavy hair was slicked back behind his ears and a short black beard trimmed to perfection framed his chubby cheeks. His face had matured, but those golden brown eyes were unmistakably Pasha’s—the youngest of Boris’s brood and Vladimir’s younger brother in their blended family. Pasha’s picture hung on Vladimir’s bedroom wall back home.
I tried to avoid detection and sneak back upstairs to hide out in the bedroom, but Boris waved me over to the kitchen and introduced me to his son. Pasha’s eyes lit up when I shook his hand. “I already know you, Carter. Vova never stops talking about you. Welcome.”
Vladimir had described his little brother as a “saint.” There was a kindness to Pasha’s face that made him instantly likeable, and his docile aura lightened his staggering height. He favored his papa in appearance, but his inviting smile and gentle eyes were traits unique to him.
“Did you get enough to eat? The soup is still warm. I can brew another pot of tea.” Pasha pulled out a chair and gestured for me to sit.
“Leave us,” Boris said. “Check on your brother. I need to speak to Carter alone.”
“ Da , Papa.” Without giving me another glance, Pasha ducked under the doorway to avoid hitting his head and went outside. Vladimir was in the yard with a small army of his crew, giving orders to his security team.
I took a seat across from Boris and balled my hands in my lap. His tone terrified me, and I had no clue what I had done to warrant the death rays he was firing at me. My plan with Boris going forward was to stay calm, quiet, and submissive. No sudden moves, no emotional outbursts. He looked haggard and war-torn from all the drama, and I didn’t want to set him off by adding any more weight to his mounting list of problems.
“I’ve seen video surveillance of the attack and the events leading up to it.” He set his phone on the table and tapped his finger on the screen. An intimidation technique, no doubt. “Anything you care to add to your story?”
His accusatory tone sent ripples of fear through my body. My heart pounded. My skin got clammy. I dropped my gaze to the floor, trying to figure out what I had done wrong that warranted his hostility. “I told you everything I remember.” I was so nervous, I slid my hands under my legs and dug my fingernails into my thighs, a self-destructive habit I had formed to relieve my ongoing stress.
“Everything? You’re sure?”
I sucked in my lips and nodded. I honestly had no clue what crime I had committed, but Boris wouldn’t be grilling me if I hadn’t done something horrible.
“When you noticed the shelter door was open to the outside, why did you not seize your opportunity to escape?”
I sighed in relief. I had started to believe I’d lost my mind. That was a no-brainer. “I was going to. Dmitri told me to run and lock the door behind me, but if I did, they would’ve killed him for sure.”
“What do you care if he lives or dies?”
His question caught me off guard. “Uh, because he’s a human
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