CHAPTER 11 - THE PRICE OF FREEDOM
ALEXI

Alexi grunted as the rope finally gave, then struck out with his hand to prop himself against the side of the car as they went around another corner. Alexi didn’t usually get carsick. But then, usually he wasn’t in the boot of the car, when it was been driven by a mad-man. He sucked in a deep breath, or as deep as he could get through the hood and fought the urge to just rip the damn thing off. He wrestled with the urge. Other hand first, then hood, he promised himself. Tugging at the fabric would only make the knots tighter.

He flipped the glass in his hand holding it securely with 3 fingers as he searched for the rope with his index fingers and thumb. He felt the rough hemp and hung on to it, grunting as they swerved around another corner fast enough to make his teeth rattle.

His fingers slipped on the glass and his heart stuttered. He managed to cling onto the shard, barely, heart pounding raggedly as the car straightened out. That was close. Too damn close. He rested his forehead on the floor of the boot, taking as deep a breath he could, trying to force himself to relax, then took a firm grip on the shard and winced. He’d managed to slit the tip of his middle fingertip, and he could feel the flap of skin... and the blood tickling his skin, sliding onto his palm and oozing over the shard, making it treacherous in his hand, his own blood betraying him.

Oh man up, he snapped at himself and began to saw at the rope. It seemed to take forever, but finally his leg snapped out. He grunted in pain then turned over onto his back, closing his eyes for a moment, then reached up, tracing the hood’s cord with his fingertips until he found the knot. It was at the front of his neck and almost made him laugh. It was a freaking bow. They’d tied him up with a bow?

Maybe Jones had a better sense of humour than he’d thought. He frowned as he traced it again. It was double knotted he guessed and cautiously picked at it with his nails. He braced himself with his elbow as they breaked hard, heart skittering again. Please don’t let them have heard him. He blew out a soft sigh as the car started rolling again and teased at the knot. It yielded and he yanked the thing off his head enjoying some fresh, cooler air on his face, glancing around in the gloom of the boot, then raised his fingertip to look at it and sucked in a breath over the gag. It looked worse than it was, he assured himself, and he always had been a coward where his blood was concerned.

He tore some fabric off the bottom of his shirt and, with a gut wrenching sensation, pushed the flap of skin back into place. The squelch nearly made him hurl. He wrapped the fingertip up securely with the torn material and tied it off, blood instantly dying the material red. Happier now the wound was out of sight, he reached up, tracing the strap of the ball gag. Ignoring the stab of pain from his finger, he unbuckled the  gag and threw it away from him, spitting out the ball of foam and swallowing hard. His mouth now felt like a hamster had been sleeping in it, he thought grimly, and his jaw was aching, but damn it was a good feeling. He gave a small stretch, impeded by the confined space, then started to search.

The last thing he was going to do was sit here and wait until they got wherever they were going so that Roach and Jones could tie him back up. Nope, he was getting out of here, and fast. He ran his hands over the inside of the boot, looking hard. He knew all boots had them, and sure enough, there it was, the boot release.

He hesitated. At his best guess they were going at least 50 miles an hour. Jumping out right now would hurt, and he might get run over by other cars. Not a good way to go. He sat back, picking at the remaining bracelets of rope and throwing the severed pieces away, sliding the rope around his ankles off his bare feet and waiting...

The car began to slow and he gathered himself up, tense as a coiled spring, and sure enough, the car stopped. He jammed the button, and leapt out of the boot. He had no time to get his bearings, had a general impression of blaring lights, metallic shapes, water falling, but he just turned to his right, going from stop to sprint in a split second. He heard curses from behind him, the opening of car doors and pushed himself harder. They’d stopped at a cross-roads, he realised, the car pausing at a set of traffic lights, but the roads were virtually empty. Fuck, he’d been counting on other people being around.

But then, it was damn dark, clearly the middle of the night, the cloud overhead jet black and hurling rain down at them. He vaulted over a metal railing and onto the pavement, forcing himself to go faster... But his body was flagging, he could feel it, he couldn’t keep this up for long, and the footsteps were close behind...

He swerved to his right again, pelting across another road.

A roar came out of the rain, followed by the screeching of brakes on the wet road. His body slammed off metal and plastic, then hit the tarmac.

Get up Alexi. They’re after you. His thoughts sounded like Dimitri and he tried to obey, but his body wouldn’t move. Get up!

He scrabbled on the floor, trying weakly to get his arms underneath him, but then a hand closed over his shoulder, so tightly that his fingers seemed to punch through his shoulder, like metal spikes through an apple.

“Omigod, is he ok?!” A voice, a female voice, high and shrill, with an American twang demanded.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Roach’s voice said calmly. “My younger brother, he can be such an idiot at times, are you all alright in there?”

Alexi dragged in a pained breath, his left leg on fire, hip and ribs screaming as he tried to push himself upright. There was something running from his forehead, he thought, then realised, he’d managed to gash the right side of his head when he hit the road surface, red running into his eye, stinging, and making his vision swim with tears.

“There is a young woman in the car that hit you,” Jones’ voice was right next to his ear, so low that Alexi could barely hear it over the rain, meant only for him. “There’s also a child of about 5 or 6 in the back seat, and a baby in a carry-cot. There’s a gun in my pocket. In a moment, I’m going to help you up, and when you’re on your feet, you’re going to have to make a choice Crown Prince.”

“Do enlighten me,” Alexi managed to choke out, the bitterness burning his lips.

“You can get up, give the lady a smile, assure her you’ll be ok, apologise for running out in front of her and get into the backseat of the car with Roach,” Jones said.

Alexi gave a derisive snort, and Jones gave a soft chuckle.

“Here’s your other choice,” He said quietly and dangerously. “You can run.”

Alexi looked up sharply, biting back a scream as he jarred every part of his body. Jones’ face was so close to his, a strangely unremarkable face, hard, with a strong jaw and brow, but insipid blue eyes and sandy hair in a buzz cut. His face was totally emotionless, those pale eyes regarding Alexi.

“But if you run, I will shoot all of the people in the car, and then I will shoot you. Maybe you’ll escape, maybe you won’t, not my problem, me and Roach are just going to get in the car and drive away, screw the Chinese,” He breathed. “Your call.”

Alexi stared at him, stunned.

“You bastard.”

Jones’ shrugged one shoulder and Alexi looked up. It was a ford mondeo, in dark blue, the bonnet shimmering in the distorted light of the streetlamp. There was a woman, gazing at him, aghast, deep in conversation with Roach, her eyes wide and panicked... And as he looked beyond her, a little girl peered curiously from behind the seat rest, chewing her finger. Alexi closed his eyes, and tried to think, but the little girl seemed to be imprinted on the inside of his eyelids.

He might make it, he thought. But he wasn’t in much of a state for running, or anything. Even if Jones was true to his word, Alexi didn’t know where he was, where he was going or how far he could walk. He was barefoot and already soaked to the bone, bleeding and searing with pain.

And how long would each of those miles feel, knowing that he’d left this family to die? He opened his eyes and met Jones’.

“Fine,” He said quietly. “But I’m going to need a hand up.”

Jones actually looked taken aback, then nodded, putting his arms under Alexi’s and heaved him upright. Alexi staggered, tried to put weight on his left leg, gave a soft cry and almost fell against Jones, who adjusted his grip, holding him upright. Alexi gave a soft snort. The man had overestimated him. There was no way he could have run.

“Shit, I am so sorry!” The woman gushed, running forwards, despite Roach trying to grab her.

Alexi looked up, straight into her face. She was beautiful, Alexi thought, chocolate brown skin with darker eyes, rimmed in long black curving lashes, and wide full lips.

“It’s ok,” He gave her a tremulous smile, then put more force into it. “Honestly, it’s my fault, I should have been looking where I was going. I’m sorry.”

She looked at him, horrified, and he could only imagine how bad he looked to earn that look.

“God, you need to go to A&E, I’ll take you,” She said firmly.

Alexi felt Jones shift beside him.

“It’s alright,” Roach said calmly. “We’ll take him, our car’s just around the corner. There’s no point you sitting in A&E for hours, I bet the little ones need to be home.”

The girl stared at Alexi.

“It’s alright,” He told her. “Go on, go home.”

She hesitated.

“Seriously,” He pressed. “Your kids need to be home, not sat out here. Bet it’s way past their bedtime, and mine for that matter.”

She laughed at that, then put an hand on her arm.

“As long as you’re ok?” She asked quietly, eyes on his.

“I haven’t been ok for quiet a while,” He said wryly. “It’s nothing new.”

She smiled at that again, then reached into her pocket.

“Well, just, uh... if you... um...” She brushed back her hair awkwardly. “Here.”

She tucked a card into his pocket, then turned on her heel and gave Roach a hard look.

“Make sure he gets treatment, alright?” She said firmly.

Roach looked stunned, then smiled.

“Oh don’t worry, I’ll treat him like a prince,” He assured her, with a nasty look at Alexi.

She walked back to her car, opened the door and hesitated, gazing at Alexi long and hard.

“Come on,” Jones said, and Alexi started to limp with him to the pavement, but couldn’t help looking back at the car driver.

She’d got back into the car, and was staring at him through the glass tapping her fingers on the steering wheel. He gave her a long look, trying to convey everything with that look, then turned away. Behind him, he heard the car start up and closed his dark blue eyes, breathing out slowly. Part relief, part terror, part disappointment. He’d been hoping that she would have heard his silent distress call.

“Come on,” Jones repeated. “Roach, get the car.”

Roach vanished into the rain, and Jones hoisted Alexi onto a bench beside the road and Alexi winced, water soaking into his already drenched trousers, his desperation fading into hopelessness, mingling with his exhaustion, sagging forwards, eyes semi lidded.

“I’m amazed,” Jones said quietly. “I was certain you’d try something.”

Alexi gave a small, sad, dejected smile.

“The price was too high.”

And Jones just about managed to catch him as he fell forwards.