Her Russian Returns (Brie's Submission Book 15) Read online

  “I understand, brother. But again, the risk seems too great given your current condition and that of Wallace based on what you said.”

  “Wallace will be returning home. Captain and…” Rytsar glanced at Samantha, unsure how he felt about her offer to help, but knowing he needed her assistance if he were to pull this off quickly and quietly with as few people involved as possible. “Both Captain and Samantha are staying to assist me.”

  “How do you feel about that, my friend?” Thane asked, knowing why he had reservations.

  Rytsar stared at Samantha when he answered, “I believe we will be able to pull this off and that is all that matters. We cannot fail.”

  “I am grateful to hear it. Frankly, we could not survive losing you again.”

  “Agreed,” he answered, those annoying emotions coming to the surface again, making him want to cry.

  “Hold on a minute, Brie has something that she wishes to tell you.”

  “Certainly.”

  Brie got back on the phone. “Rytsar, the baby has grown so much since you left us.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.”

  “We were told the sex of the baby at the last appointment. Would you like to know?”

  He chuckled. “I already do.”

  “Yes, you do,” she confirmed, “and Sir has come up with the perfect name for her.”

  “Wait to tell me when I see you both,” he said, smiling to himself. “The name of the child is an important thing. I want to hear it from your lips so that I can kiss them afterward.”

  Brie giggled softly. He could hear the fear behind her every word, but he appreciated that she was trying to cover it up for his sake.

  “Send this Russian off with a smile,” he told her.

  She did not speak for several moments. “I give you my fidelity, protection, and comradeship, Rytsar Durov.”

  “Ah…that is exactly what I needed.”

  “I love you,” she added.

  “And I, you, radost moya,” he replied. “You fortify my heart.”

  Thane took the phone back. “When can we expect Wallace to return?”

  “I cannot say until my doctor has assessed his situation, but know he will be on the first plane back as soon as possible.” Rytsar thought back to Wallace’s bravery and said, “He saved us all, comrade. He is a man of honor.”

  Thane digested his words before replying. “He went in my stead. I look forward to seeing him again, and thanking him myself.”

  “For the first time, I am glad for your condition. I wouldn’t want you here, but I would have been unable to stop you. But know this will be one of the greatest victories no one will ever hear about.”

  “As long as you come back, my friend.”

  “Just one more thing,” Rytsar said, his eyes darting to Andrev, who had his head turned. “How did you get my brothers to pay the ransom?”

  “I simply reminded them who you were.”

  Rytsar shook his head, unwanted tears welling in his eyes. When he looked back, he saw that Andrev was staring at him. For the first time, in a long time, he saw his brother—not his enemy.

  Rytsar watched over Wallace, refusing treatment for himself until Dr. Petrov was able to cauterize the wound and stop the bleeding.

  “He will be all right?” Rytsar asked.

  “The man will need an infusion, but yes, he will survive.” The doctor looked down at his torso with concern. “Now let me examine you.”

  “Yes, yes,” he said dismissively. “But give me a moment alone with him.”

  “I will be waiting for you in Examination Room four.” As he was leaving, Dr. Petrov added, “Don’t take long.”

  Rytsar nodded. He turned to speak to Wallace, who had half of his face now covered in white bandages. “What you did…”

  “You would have done as well,” Wallace finished.

  “But this was not your fight.”

  Wallace shrugged. “When Davis was organizing the rescue party, I knew I was meant to go.”

  “Why?” Rytsar asked, needing to know.

  “I couldn’t imagine a world without your ugly mug in it.”

  Rytsar burst out laughing, and then cried out in pain because of it. He pointed accusingly at the man for making him laugh, but could not hide his amusement.

  Wallace looked him over and said, “I will be okay, Durov. Take care of yourself. You’re looking pretty bad.”

  Rytsar grabbed Wallace’s hand and wrapped both of his around it in a show of solidarity. “I am a man who does not forget my debts.”

  “The only thing you owe me is getting back safely to Brie. Remember, you did charge me with protecting her—and her child.”

  “I did,” Rytsar replied, smiling as he thought of moye solntse. He stared at Wallace, recalling the distrust he’d felt when he had been forced to give Wallace the duty due to lack of time.

  It felt like a lifetime ago.

  “You have done well with my charge,” Rytsar complimented, “but before I come home I must avenge what the Koslovs did to you, to my mother, and me.”

  “I get that. Believe me, I do. But don’t you let this,” Wallace pointed to his bandages, “be for nothing. Make it back alive.”

  “Of course,” Rytsar answered solemnly. “However, I do have one favor to ask.”

  Wallace responded without hesitation. “What is it?”

  “The dog.”

  He laughed. “You want me to take care of your dog?”

  “It cannot come where I am going, and I have grown…attached to it.”

  Wallace looked at him strangely, seeming thrown off by the respect. “First the cat and now a dog. What’s happened to you?”

  Rytsar snorted. “They seem to seek me out now. I cannot explain why.”

  “In any case, I will take your dog. What is its name again?”

  “It has a few names, but for now I am calling it Mudryy.”

  Wallace repeated the word.

  “I will be sending you back to America in my private jet. It will make it easier to smuggle the animal aboard,” Rytsar said with a chuckle. “However, you must promise to take care of it until my return.”

  “Is it house-trained?”

  “I do not know, but it is a very intelligent animal. I’m sure it would learn fast if it isn’t.”

  “That could be a problem, but I’ll get the necessary sundries and accompaniments that go along with owning a puppy.”

  “Consider it already done. I just needed your permission.”

  “How long do you expect this to take?” Wallace asked, referring to the attack on the Koslovs.

  “It will take time to set up what I have planned, but once ready, it will be like a long line of dominos. One push and it all comes tumbling down.” He added with a feeling of elation, “And the best part? We won’t even be here when it does.”

  Rytsar leaned down, telling Wallace in confidence, “No more blood will be spilled on my account. I will see to it.”

  “Can I give you one piece of advice before you go?”

  “Certainly.”

  “You need to talk it out with Samantha. You do not know how hard she fought and the things she did to save you.”

  Rytsar growled.

  “I understand you have a negative history with her, but take it from me, you can’t let it keep eating you inside.”

  “You have no idea,” Rytsar stated angrily. “What happened cannot be forgiven.”

  “I believe you, but you need to find a way to let it go—for your own sake.”

  Rytsar eyed him suspiciously. “I am not sure I like this new side of you. When did you become a sage?”

  Wallace smiled sadly. “I only speak from experience.”

  Vodka Shot

  Rytsar was held up in a private room for three days while nurses secretly attended to him and Dr. Petrov ran multiple tests.

  Everyone gathered in the room when the doctor said he was ready to make an assessment of his recovery.

  “Accor
ding to the tests, you suffered internal bleeding although you’ve recovered from it. However, you still have internal bruising to contend with, as well as several broken ribs, not to mention the external wounds on your body and face… Basically, you need more time to heal.”

  “Time is something I do not have. Give me compression bandages to help with the pain and I can leave.”

  “That is exactly what you don’t need, Durov. Your lungs are damaged and require time to heal or you risk them collapsing.”

  Captain, who was standing beside the doctor, said, “I commit to looking after him and making sure he takes off the compression bandages at night so his lungs have a chance to expand. But I am in agreement with Durov. It is time we leave.”

  Petrov was irritated by their defiance. “Ignore your doctor’s orders then. I don’t even know why you bothered to ask me.”

  Rytsar put his hand on Petrov’s shoulder. “You have given me a fighting chance by stitching me up and giving me those blood transfusions. Thank you. There is no one else I trust with my health and that of Wallace. You have been invaluable to us.”

  Petrov sighed in resignation, knowing his advice was being thrown aside. “You are a good man, Durov, but a lousy patient.”

  Rytsar had to hold back his laughter or risk pain. “Expect a substantial gift to show my gratitude,” he stated.

  Petrov shook his head. “Nyet. This is my payment for what you did for Zhirov’s family. We are all beholden to you for finding her and bringing her back home.”

  “Every girl who is safely returned to her family’s arms honors Tatianna’s memory. I need nothing more.”

  “Still, I will not accept any gift from you.”

  Rytsar was offended and looked him in the eyes. Normally, he would not stomach owing another, but he realized the doctor did not mean the refusal as an offense, so he reluctantly accepted the doctor’s gift.

  “If you believe in a heaven, then you have gained a gold star, Doctor,” Rytsar said with a smirk.

  “If I have one, then your heaven must be filled with them.”

  Rytsar snorted. “We both know where I will be headed. No amount of good deeds makes up for the bad we have done, even if the recipients deserved exactly what they got. It is the price I pay, but I do it willingly so others do not have to.”

  “I disagree,” Petrov stated. “The good you have done for countless families will be rewarded.”

  Rytsar rolled his eyes. “Maybe. It is possible I will get the luxury suite in Hell.”

  Petrov chuckled. “I’m sure it would be an interesting place to gather.”

  “So you will get me the necessary bandages so that I might leave?”

  “I do it under duress,” he stated, nodding to one of the nurses to get the needed items. “I wish you success in your endeavors and that I never see you again because you have no need of me.”

  “I hope the same, Petrov,” Rytsar agreed.

  They left in the dead of night after hearing rumors that the Koslov brothers had men snooping around different parts of Moscow looking for Samantha. Apparently, Gavriil was hoping to score big with the Mistress.

  Rytsar had already arranged for Wallace’s flight.

  Captain, Samantha, and Rytsar walked him onto the plane to see him off.

  “Although there will be some initial adjustment,” Captain told him, tapping on his own eye patch, “you will be fine, son. We’ll talk more when I return,”

  Wallace nodded.

  “And as for your sacrifice, we will honor it with a resounding victory.”

  “I know you will,” Wallace replied, “and I’ll make sure to tell Candy that you will be home soon.”

  Captain nodded curtly, but his voice gave away his underlying emotion when he said, “Thank you.”

  Samantha said her good-byes next. “I have no words to express my gratitude for what you’ve done. We’ve known each other for several years since living in Denver, but you are now… If you should need anything, I will always be at your disposal. I mean it.”

  “Thank you, Samantha,” he told her. “But let me say this, in case you wake up some night and feel remorse or guilt for how our mission went down. I have no regrets. What happened was my choice and my choice alone.”

  Rytsar was surprised to see Samantha tear up as she moved away.

  Now it was his turn to say his good-byes, but Wallace stopped him. “You’ve already said your piece, so let me say mine.”

  Rytsar huffed. “Very well.”

  “I admire you, Rytsar Durov. I’ve never met a man with more passion. You live your life upfront and loud, with no pretenses. You are a force to be reckoned with, but everything you do is from the heart. I hope fate continues to cross our paths, because I am a better man for it.”

  “Enough!” Rytsar commanded gruffly, embarrassed by the praise.

  Before anyone noticed the blush on his cheeks, Rytsar dropped down on one knee, and the dog jumped up on him, licking his face.

  “I am going to miss you, Mudryy,” he confessed, surprised at his attachment to the animal.

  The dog nuzzled its nose in his chest, wagging its tail wildly.

  “I promise to take good care of your pup,” Wallace assured him.

  Rytsar reluctantly stood up and spoke to the pilot. “Have a telegram sent as soon as you touch down.”

  “Where to, Rytsar?” he asked.

  “Send it to Titov’s.”

  “Da, Rytsar. It will be done.”

  Rytsar gave Wallace one last handshake. When he did so, Wallace pulled him close and whispered, “Talk to her.”

  He frowned, but nodded, petting the dog on the head before heading down the steps. He heard the dog behind him and turned around, commanding, “Stay.”

  The dog immediately sat down on its haunches and wagged its tail, but as soon as he turned back around, the dog came up behind him.

  “Stay!” he barked more firmly.

  The dog sat down again, but it was obvious it was not planning on staying behind in the plane.

  Captain grabbed the dog’s collar and guided it to Wallace, who took hold of the leather collar. “It’ll be fine,” Wallace assured him.

  Rytsar nodded his thanks and headed out of the plane.

  The dog started crying piteously, knowing it was being left behind. The sound of its cries tore at Rytsar’s heart. It was embarrassing to feel so deeply for an animal and yet he did. He almost turned around, wanting to comfort it, but Captain came up behind him.

  “Animals can’t understand what’s happening, but it will be fine. In a few minutes, it will have forgotten this unhappy parting and be wagging its tail like before.”

  Rytsar looked up at the entrance of the plane where the dog’s continued cries were emanating.

  He wasn’t so sure Captain was right, but he did know there was no place for the animal where they were headed. LA with Wallace was the safest place for it. Rytsar called out, “Be a good dog.”

  At the sound of his voice the dog instantly quieted, but when he did not return up the stairs, it started up again.

  Feeling like an idiot, especially in front of a wizened military man, Rytsar added, “I will come back for you, Mudryy.”

  He walked briskly to the car, telling Dessa as he got in, “Let’s get out of here. It’s time to surprise my old friend.”

  To Rytsar’s vexation, Andrev sat on his left and Samantha behind him, while Captain, the man he preferred to sit with, chose to sit up front with Rytsar’s sub.

  Having digested Wallace’s advice to talk, he knew he should probably speak to Andrev, but he’d told too many lies to be trusted, and there was that bitter betrayal hanging between them. Rytsar didn’t know if such a deep rift could be mended, and didn’t care to risk it.

  So they sat in silence the entire drive.

  When they reached their destination, Rytsar asked that the others stand behind him as he rang the doorbell and waited.

  It was a surreal moment for him; having said his fi
nal good-byes to Titov in America, he’d never really expected to see the man again.

  A servant answered the door. It seemed Titov was putting the extra money Rytsar had allotted him to good use. It made Rytsar glad as the man deserved to be waited on after all he had done and been through supporting Rytsar all these years.

  The man looked at him strangely. “Whom may I say is calling?” he asked formally.

  “Tell Titov it is an old ghost from the past.”

  “I need more, sir. He is a very busy man and not to be trifled with.”

  Rytsar smirked. “A ghost with a taste for vodka.”

  The servant gave him a tight-lipped expression as he looked over the people behind Rytsar, his suspicions suddenly raised. “I will inform him there are visitors. Please wait out here.”

  Rytsar grinned to himself when the man shut the door on him and left them standing there.

  “I don’t think he trusts you,” Andrev stated.

  “Why would he? We look like trouble.” He glanced over at Captain, who had several noteworthy bruises, and even Samantha, who had gotten the least of the abuse by the Koslovs, still wore a light bruise on her cheek.

  The door suddenly swung open and Titov stood before him. Before Rytsar could say a word, Titov had him in a tight embrace. “You’re back!”

  “I am,” Rytsar replied breathlessly, trying to release Titov’s embrace as his lungs screamed out in protest. “But I am worse for wear.”

  Titov instantly let go and looked at him with concern. It wasn’t until then that Titov noticed the others standing behind Rytsar. Titov stared at each one thoughtfully. Looking at Rytsar with a worried expression, he insisted, “Come in.” He then extended the invitation to the others. “Come in all of you.”

  He barked to his servant, “Get them whatever they need. I would like to speak to Rytsar alone.”

  Titov guided him down the corridor to his parlor. There on the table was the bottle of Zyr and shot glass Titov had promised.

  He sat Rytsar down before picking up the bottle and pouring Rytsar a generous amount while he explained, “I have gazed upon this table every day since my return to Russia, praying by some miracle that you would come to claim it.”