15
Olivia
July 5th, 2022
Iwasn’t sure how long I had been sitting there before the door opened again.
In walked a large, muscular man with a shaved head and a large chest. He had striking green eyes and tattoos crawling down his neck, disappearing under his jacket. He even had a dark tattoo all around the top of his head and down the back of his neck, mixing in with the others. I assumed he was the woman’s father.
I hardened my eyes, watching him carefully, studying him, memorizing him. I suddenly had the horrible realization that I wouldn’t be able to tell the others anything untilafterit happened. I couldn’t give away my only connection to them. I wouldn’t survive without it. So, I had to wait. Memorize, learn, repeat everything, even if it wasn’t important, even if it seemedinsignificant, I needed to tell them everything.
The male eyed me like a predator sizing up his prey. “It seems my daughter, as precious as she is, already told you about the girl.”
His accent was heavy, his voice low, and I realized that he would be a great addition to my book if I managed to get out of here intact. A classic Russian Mob Boss. Maybe that’s what I could do. Pretend this was all for a book. A re-enactment. A daydream gone too far. Maybe I could survive by pretending.
“It’s unfortunate because that means you don’t truly have an excuse to talk. No questions need to be asked, no worries in your mind about saving the little brunette. It’s quite sad, really.”
I was choosing not to talk because I knew how bad my tongue was. I knew where it would get me. My best option was to keep my lips sealed for as long as I could.
He walked up to me, pausing just a foot or so away. “Such a pretty young face you have, but your eyes, they are full of sadness. I almost feel bad that I will only make that sadness grow.”
Then he didn’t see what Everett saw. I could handle this. I would handle it. I would survive, they would find me, kill every single one of these bastards, and move on from the Delepski’s and theirbullshitagenda.
I would get out of here, and we would never look back.
The man pulled out a knife and my heart skipped as I tracked it straight to my arm, only for him to cut the ropes, releasing each hand and then each leg with ease.
My brows furrowed, my confusion growing. What was he doing? Was it because I had nowhere to run? I suppose that was something I could tell the others. I was probably surrounded by woods. That eliminated the city. It wasn’t much, but it was something.
He walked behind me, but I didn’t watch him. I didn’t wanthim finding out I was as scared as I actually felt. Instead, I looked down at my wrists, rubbing them carefully, wincing at the raw skin that now ringed each one. That would take a while to heal.
The sound of chains met my ears, causing my back to stiffen. Panic slammed through me, and it was an effort to remain still, to keep my breathing steady.
He appeared in front of me again, thick chains gripped in one hand. “Put your wrists together,” he instructed.
I glanced at the rusty chains and then his eyes before holding out my wrists. It was about the long game. Convincing him that I was somewhat cooperative would help me gain some traction.
At least that’s what I hoped. I wrote fiction, but I had done so much research into this. Thousands of hours dedicated to researching information to make my books more realistic. Even if I was wrong about this, I eventually had to be right about something.
He looped the chains around my wrists, between them, locking them tight before he pulled me up and forced me into the far corner.
He pulled my arms up and looked down on me smiling. “Deep breath,” he told me and then wrapped a hand around my throat, squeezing so tight, my air was immediately cut off.
He lifted me into the air, my legs instinctively kicking, my brain going into a panic, my body taking over as I tried to fight against him only for him to release my neck and take a step back.
I fell, my heart slamming into my throat just as a searing pain erupted through my shoulders and around my wrists.
I bit my tongue against the cry, my entire body’s weight hanging on my wrists now, my arms pressing into my ears.
I tried to grab onto the chains, the hook, anything to alleviate the pain as my toes struggled to touch the ground, but it was no use. The chains were too thick, too tight.
He was hanging me like a fucking slaughtered pig.
Tears prickled the corners of my eyes as I breathed through my teeth, finding his eyes, seeing the smug smile on his face. “You won’t last long,” he decided, lifting his chin. He grabbed my chin, and I tried to jerk away, only for the pain in my shoulders to flare. “Just because you survived whoever gave you that smile doesn’t mean you’ll survive me. Give me the sons, give me Adler, and maybe you’ll live.”
I snarled, my arms screaming, my fingers numb. “Already bargaining?” I asked breathlessly and then laughed. “I don’t think I’m the one who will cave first.” Goddammit. This was why I needed to stay quiet.
He chuckled, clearly as irritated as I was that I had the audacity to say something like that. He released my jaw, pulled his fist back, and slammed it into my stomach, knocking the breath out of me, causing my head to spin.
