Russian Mobster's Obsession (14 page)

“Can you
please
let me up?” she asked, still sounding disgruntled. “It smells down here, and you weigh a ton.”

“Since you said please.” He rolled to his side and removed a good portion of his bodyweight from her torso and legs.

That was when she attacked him again.

FLYNN WAS NOT giving up. Not now. She had a really bad feeling about this guy’s intentions that would not go away.

This time she spent a little more brainpower on her attack.

She wrapped her fingers around the length of wood. Using every ounce of core muscle in her slender body, she rolled over and smacked her captor in his midsection. He grunted in surprise. Gathering her body, Flynn lurched up onto her knees and hit him again. She made it to her feet and hit him one more time. Then she put both hands on her weapon and put everything she had behind the last hit.

“Bitch!” he gasped.

She dropped her stick right where she figured his head to be. “Fuck off.”

Darting away through the darkness, she saw a narrow opening between two buildings. Light spilled through the passage. She couldn’t help but think there might be a main street just beyond, a place that might offer help.

She squeezed through the space, scraping her arms as she did. Panic was starting to take hold. She kept expecting to feel someone grab her from behind. Escape could not be this simple. Not when some madman was trying to punish her for her father’s crimes.

Finally she was on the other side. Her lungs burned with the exertion, and she tried to breathe more deeply. Her anxiety was making her lightheaded, and she needed to keep her wits about her now more than ever.

Staring around, Flynn searched for salvation in the tiny courtyard she’d just inadvertently trapped herself in. She’d thought it was a street. It wasn’t. There were four buildings, all with narrow alleyways. Some had dingy lights on in the windows, but the bulk of the light came from a strangely bright streetlamp in the center of the space.

Behind her, Flynn could just make out the sound of boots. Did he know this area? Was he aware that she was more or less trapped here? She stopped her popcorn thoughts. This wasn’t helping. She sprinted toward one of the other alleys and searched for someplace to hide.

Then she noticed that the porch was solid in front but had broken boards on the side. She dropped to her knees and squeezed into the space. Holding her breath and trying to control the pounding of her heart, she found a slit between the boards in front to see through and settled down to wait.

She had just about figured that her would-be kidnapper had either passed her by completely or given up when he slipped between the buildings and entered the courtyard. He glanced around, looking utterly composed. Then he stood beneath the streetlamp and began to turn in slow circles, taking in everything.

Sweat beaded on Flynn’s hairline and dribbled down the middle of her back. What would happen if he found her? Would he drag her out and do something awful? She had practically beaten him to a pulp with what amounted to a baseball bat. Maybe he was angry about that and wanted revenge.

A sound inside Flynn’s hidey-hole brought her sharply around. She stared into the dark recesses of the porch. To her horror, there were two bright yellow eyes staring right back.

“Oh. My. God,” she breathed. “No panicking. No panicking.”

Her heart was really racing now. What was it? Maybe it was a raccoon, or something worse. A low growl made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. Then it hissed. The spitting noise was at least familiar.

“Hi kitty kitty,” she crooned in a voice that was barely a whisper. “Please shut up, okay?”

It hissed again, this time ending with a growl that sounded as if something were dying. Flynn pressed her back against the wood, inching toward the broken section of the porch. Outside, she could see her captor looking in her direction with his head cocked as if he’d heard the cat.

Another growl, and then another set of yellow eyes appeared. There were two cats under here with her. They turned away from Flynn and focused on each other. She peered out of her spot, hoping her captor would just think the noise was two cats duking it out and not come over to investigate. Maybe this would work in her favor.

Oh shit!

In one millisecond, all hell broke loose. The cats launched at each other and became a hissing, spitting ball of scratching fur. There was yowling and screaming like nothing Flynn had ever heard. They slammed into the boards, making the whole porch shiver. Then the one cat ran right at her, the other hot on its trail.

Flynn couldn’t help it. She screamed in agony when the cat’s claws dug into her bare arms as it fought its way free of the porch. Sticky blood ran down Flynn’s arms as she lurched backwards, trying to escape.

The old boards on the front of the porch gave way, and Flynn tumbled out onto the sparse grass between the porch and sidewalk. The cats gave her one last parting scratch on the side of her face before bounding off into the night, still screaming at each other. Flynn was left lying on a heap of broken wood and splinters, scratched, bruised, and most definitely caught.

“Well, well, well,” her kidnapper drawled. There was laughter in his voice. “I’m not sure who looks worse at this point.” He reached down and took her hand, plucking her right off the ground and setting her back on her feet. “I could say this is karma, but since I’m taking you against your will, that’s a little self-righteous on my part. Don’t you think?”

She gaped at him in shock. “Are you serious?”

“What?”

“Karma.” She swallowed, trying to get her bearings. “You’re talking to me about karma. This is apparently my karmic payback for getting stuck being my father’s daughter?”

He seemed to consider this. “I suppose I hadn’t looked at it quite like that. Sucks to be you.”

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