Nausea built in my stomach when I realized what the room was used for—the Bratva’s enemies. For interrogation, torture. It made sense. No one lived close. Screams could go unheard. Cell service was nonexistent, the grounds completely secure. No one would ever suspect that in this perfect white wooden colonial mansion was a hidden torture room.
My breath caught in my throat as I took in the sight. Then the byki stepped away from whatever they were doing by the far wall. They were all covered in blood, sweat, and dirt. They looked as though they’d taken one hell of a beating.
As they cleared away from the object of their attention, my eyes fixed onto the huge dark man they’d just dragged in. That they’d carried unconscious through the front door. My heart raced as I stared at his naked body. He was one of the tallest and bulkiest men I’d ever seen. His muscles were many, ripped and taut. And a large chest tattoo stood out through the heavy coating of blood. I scrunched my eyes to see what it said. My eyes widened as I read the numbers “221” in bold black ink. The numbers took up all of his chest. It was an identity tattoo, exactly like the one Luka had … just different numbers.
God! I thought as I continued to stare at the man’s battered and bruised sleeping form. Even out cold he radiated power … danger. I’d never seen anyone like him. It both scared and intrigued me.
Who are you? Why are you beaten? I asked in my mind as my eyes traveled farther down his body. He was naked, scars littering every inch of his skin. Burn marks, and other strange markings covered his torso and chest. Then my eyes drifted lower. His long flaccid cock was bared and hanging low on his thigh. I swallowed at the sight and I could feel my face flush as I struggled to turn my gaze away.
He looked like a scarred blood-covered slave of some kind. Like something you’d see in a fucked-up Roman-era movie.
My thighs clenched together and I felt heat spread throughout my body and down between my legs. The reaction I was having was new and terrifying but I couldn’t look away. I was transfixed, my mind racing with thoughts of why he was so important that he was brought here to be interrogated.
Then I frowned as my gaze focused on something else. He was caged and chained to the wall. His wrists and ankles were in short chains, ensuring he couldn’t escape. Even though he looked to be the most dangerous man I’d ever laid my eyes on, my heart cracked at the realization that he wouldn’t be able to move, that he would be in pain.
Noticing the byki beginning to move back toward the stairs, I crept back to the hallway, following the sound of Kisa and Luka talking in the kitchen.
Pulling myself together, I tried to shake the image of the man slumped brokenly on the floor, and joined the others.
Kisa saw me enter as she cleaned Luka’s wounds, his hands gripping tightly to his waist. As I saw them in the kitchen, and heard the byki moving to clear the van from the driveway, anger bubbled up threatening to erupt.
“Why did you bring that man here?” I blurted, my voice betraying every emotion I was feeling.
Kisa’s blue gaze found mine and I saw sympathy flood her expression.
“We needed to get him out of Brooklyn. This was the only place I knew where we could bring him to be safe,” Luka replied. I crossed my arms over my chest.
“And who is he, Luka? Who is this man you brought to our family’s house, disturbing what was meant to be my one real chance to get away from it all?”
“All of what?” Luka asked, his face marring with confusion.
“This!” I bit back, louder than I meant, and gestured to the basement. “A man you seem to have stolen from our enemy. All the Bratva shit I wanted to escape from for a couple of months. The violence, the fighting, everything! I’ve only been here a few days and you bring this to my door!”
Silence reigned after my outburst. Kisa dropped the rubbing alcohol she was holding. “Luka had to do it, Tal. He had to. He needed to honor his friend that died in the Dungeon’s cage.”
My eyes widened.
362 … 362 was the friend Luka had to kill in the cage?
I could see Kisa had realized that I’d made the connection. I briefly closed my eyes. That man chained in the basement was … “He’s 362’s brother?”
Luka’s sad eyes looked to me. “He had a twin. An identical twin.”
Luka looked down at the floor as though he could see through the partition to the man chained up in the basement.
“What?” I whispered, in shock.
Kisa, seeing Luka’s head hanging low as if in exhaustion, said, “He and his brother were taken as children, their family massacred and they were. They were…” Kisa pressed her hand to her stomach and took a deep breath. “They were experimented on for many years. Used as subjects for developing drugs. Anri, 362, was not completely susceptible, but Zaal was.”