“Don’t,” I snap. “Don’t you dare fucking move.”
She freezes in my grip, the cuffs clanging faintly in my hands against each other as I tighten them around her throat again. The chain connecting them is pressed tight against her windpipe, not hard enough to kill her but enough to show her I’m dead serious. Her stuttered breath is enough to tell me I’ve got her full, undivided attention.
“I want my son back. Do you hear me? I want to know where he isnowand I want him back,” I hiss into her ear.
Suddenly, the door opens, the first nurse from before barreling in with a tray of fresh slop to feed me. Only, she doesn’t get very far before the sight of us on the bed makes her freeze in her tracks. Her eyes go wide, her lips parting with the faintest intake of breath before silence swallows the room.
The nurse in my hold lets out a strangled sound, one hand clawing weakly at the cuffs while the other lifts to reach out toward her colleague. I shake my head when the first nurseglances at her, tightening the chain enough to draw out a garbled groan from the second nurse.
My own breathing is ragged, my eyes darting between them with a wild kind of desperation I’ve never felt before. This must be what a caged animal feels like when they’ve been packed into a corner by a predator. I’m ready to do whatever it takes to get out of here and see my child again.
I wet my lips with a quick flick of my tongue. “You think I won’t do it? You think I’m bluffing? Iwillkill her if someone doesn’t start talking. Where. Is. My. Son.”
The first nurse swallows hard. The tray in her hand shakes visibly. When she speaks, her voice is barely above a whisper. “Do not be stupid. You hurt her, they punish you.”
“Let them,” I spit out between my teeth. “They’ve already taken everything else from me.”
The woman in my hold squirms again, a panicked cry catching in her throat. Even if she can’t understand what I’m saying, my intentions alone speak for themselves. She knows she’s going to be the sacrifice made if I don’t get what I want. I tighten the chain just enough to feel her pulse stutter against the side of my hand again where it presses to her throat.
“Call Mikhail,” I say.
The first nurse hesitates, her eyes narrowing. “Please?—”
“I saidcall him!” I snap.
For a second she looks like she might bolt, like she might throw the whole tray and run. Instead, she exhales and sets it down with hands that tremble. She moves slowly whenshe fingers the pocket of her scrubs. They fumble to close around something hidden there, a comms unit, I realize, when she finally retrieves it.
When she lifts it to her mouth, her voice shakes. Rapid Russian pours from her lips, urgent syllables I can’t understand, but I don’t need to. Her eyes are broadcasting the translation—a frantic, pleading script written in the white of her gaze. She stares at her colleague, to me, and back again. Her hands tremble so badly, the comms unit practically vibrates against her palm.
Her bottom lip quivers when she pulls it away.
“You won’t kill her…” she begs, the English fragile and thick with her accent.
“Try me,” I reply, jerking the cuffs again. The nurse in my hold whimpers softly, her legs twisting together on the mattress to try and get enough traction to buck back against me. She’s too weak to do anything more than simply claw at her neck.
Finally, the comms crackle to life.
The sound is sudden and sharp, a loud burst of static that cuts through the silence harshly. It bleeds into the air, buzzing against my skull until my teeth are practically rattling. All of us jolt. Then a voice cuts through, cold and brutal.
“Let her die.”
My stomach drops. I know that voice all too well.
Mikhail.
He doesn’t shout or threaten the other nurse to subdue me. He doesn’t demand for one of the guards to bust down the down and draw their weapon. He just says it with a calm finality that sends a chill racing down my spine, almost like he’s reading off a grocery list.
It’s complete and total indifference.
“She’s replaceable,” he continues. “If she dies, that’s your fault and you will be punished. If she lives, she will be replaced for being stupid enough to get caught. Either way, I don’t negotiate with hostages.”
The line goes silent once more, making the room almost deafening. The nurse in my arms breaks it first with a strangled sob, her body trembling against mine. Hot tears stream down her face, dampening where my hands rests under her jawline. She’s saying something to me in Russian, begging and pleading at me to let her go, no doubt.
For one horrible second, I want to keep going. I want to squeeze tighter just to see if he’s bluffing. Just to prove that even a man like Mikhail could flinch when a body drops at his command because no matter how battle hardened a person may be, innocent lives should never be caught in the crossfire.
But then my stomach twists horribly.
I can’t…