Rebirth (John Taylor #1)

Chapter 14

The look in Renata's eyes was terrified and pleading, and her cheek was starting to darken with a new bruise. It would probably be a nasty purple in a few days.

I started to move toward Renata more out of instinct than from any belief I would actually get to her. I felt a hand grip tight onto my shoulder, holding me fast.

I was still a little shocked to see her. In the back of my mind I had already resigned myself to her being dead, as I couldn't make it add up for the Russians to keep her alive, no matter how I did the math. So, seeing her alive sitting on the couch, had thrown me a bit. I was still trying to recover.

I finally stopped and started taking an inventory of the room we were in, letting the trained part of my brain start to put the pieces together and work out some kind of plan.

I noted the door had shut behind us, leaving me with just the babysitter at my left elbow and the two guys across the way, not counting the men on the couch.

They were an odd pair. If I had to put money on it, I would have bet that the clean cut guy was one of the Russians' law enforcement stooges. He stood out in the room like a sore thumb. The other guy was the poster child for a Russian gangster. With the way everyone in the room looked at him when I walked in, he was also clearly in charge.

"So you are this cowboy little Renata has had so much to say about," he said in accented, but completely fluent English.

Before responding I looked into his eyes, trying to evaluate the man. The easy, confident way he talked spoke of intelligence and came across as almost friendly. His eyes, however, were straight sociopath.

"I don't know, I never liked horses much."

"Ha," he said with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Yes, horses. You are a funny man, Mr. Taylor. May I call you John?"

"Seeing as how I am standing here in handcuffs," I said looking briefly at my manacled wrists, "you could call me 'Mary,' and there wouldn't be much I could do about it."

One thing I had learned from my time in the desert is that, even being at someone's mercy; you had to keep a hard front. If you acted like a victim, your captors would treat you like that. Even in moments like this, control was as much psychological as physical.

"Renata has spoken very highly of you, John. Which is surprising. She was always so meek and quiet, never making friends. But you seem to have won her over."

"What can I say," I said with a shrug. "The ladies like me."

"I can see that. She seems pretty certain that you were going to find her and rescue her."

"One outta two ain't bad."

His smile was starting to fade, and I was pretty sure my smartass routine was starting to wear thin.

"You have been a very difficult thorn for me, John. Good men are hard to come by, and you have killed many of my men."

"Find better men, Sergi," I said, taking a shot in the dark that this was Yuri's right hand man.

"You also cost me a lot of money," he said, ignoring my comment. "We lost a lot of product in that warehouse."

Him calling the women in the warehouse 'product' sent shivers down my spine. This guy was just about as evil as they come.

"You fuck with the bull ..." I said.

"I plan on getting some satisfaction for all my losses."

"Bill me."