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Midnight Purgatory (Bugrov Bratva #1)(126)

Author:Nicole Fox

“But Lev…”

“Your brothers have Lev. They’re gonna bring him back home. I promise.”

She rips her hand out from underneath mine and glares daggers at me, and for one insane moment, it’s not her I’m seeing—it’s Ziva, tall and proud and defiant beyond her years. Then I blink and my sister is gone again. Just like she always has been.

“You can’t promise me that. You have no idea what’s going to happen. Lev is not like other people, Alyssa. Even if they do get him back, we have no idea if he’s gonna be okay.”

Her eyes are wide and glistening with tears. She’s let the mask of maturity drop and behind it, I can see the scared little girl who’s terrified for her brothers.

“Plus, he already hates me! And now, I’ve gone and gotten him abducted. I need to be there. I need to be there with them.”

She tries to run past me back up the hill, but I grab her and force her to a standstill. “I know this is a lot, but we’re not equipped to handle this situation, Polly. Your brothers—”

“I’m sick of leaving everything to them! They don’t get to call all the shots all the time. I get a say, too. I’m part of the family, am I not? I count. I matter.”

I grab her hands and nod. I’m desperate to get her out of here, but I also want her to know that I’m hearing her. That I’m listening. “No one could ever think you don’t count, Polly. You’re an amazing young woman and you were prepared to risk your own safety to come here and help Lev. That counts for something.”

She looks skeptical—for good reason, too, because no part of my little speech is designed to give her the impression that I’m letting her go back to that house of horrors. “Please. Let me go back up. I just want to know that it’s all gonna be okay.”

I pull her closer to me. “Sometimes, the best thing we can do is trust another person, Polly. More often than not, it’s the bravest thing we can do. Now, I promised to get you back home safely—and that’s what I’m gonna do.”

A helpless tear slides down Polly’s face as I pull her down the slope towards my car. My stomach feels heavy. So do my feet. I wish I could stay as badly as Pol does. Like her, I just need to see Lev. I need to know that he’s okay.

We reach the car. The house is out of sight now, tucked away behind the hill. But the clouds feel low and foreboding, like they’re hanging just inches above our heads, and the cold sweat under my arms prickles uncomfortably. The day just feels wrong somehow.

Then I hear her scream.

“Argh!”

My car keys drop as I whip around to see a massive man grabbing Polly. Her legs flail out furiously but her screams are muffled by the wet rag he’s pressing against her mouth.

What is that smell…?

And then it hits me—chloroform.

I’m reaching for my gun when someone tries to grab me from the back. I just about manage to stumble away from his grasp, but I don’t get far before another pair of arms descends on me.

“No!” I yell, kicking my legs out the same way as Polly.

Unlike her, I wrench free of whoever is trying to hurt us. I fumble with the gun and get it out and aimed at the masked men swarming around us, though heaven knows I’m not even sure if the safety is off. I’m as much of a threat to myself as I am to them.

“She’s packing. Hurry,” someone grunts.

My hands are shaking as I try to remember Polly’s instructions. You load it, cock it, take aim, pull the trigger…

“Come on, come on…” I raise my arm, ready to pull to let it rip. “Ahh!”

Before I get my chance to prove I’m not as useless as everyone thinks I am, a fist connects with my stomach. The gun flies out of my hand and I hit the ground hard, seeing stars. I’m moving as soon as I fall, trying to recover to my feet, determined not to lose Polly the same way I lost Lev.

Uri would never forgive me. And I couldn’t blame him: I’d never forgive myself, either.

But upright or in the dirt, it doesn’t make a difference—I’m outnumbered. More men converge. They grab my arms and my legs and no matter how hard I thrash, I can’t break free. My foot connects with something, but it’s not the skulls of these evil motherfuckers—it’s just the side mirror of my car. The kick takes it clean off and it crashes to the ground, spraying shards of glass everywhere.

As the men flip me upside down and prepare to shove me into their van, I catch sight of my reflection in one of the broken shards.