Where the hell did these bastards dump me?
As soon as I get free, I’m gonna paint the walls with their brains. I should be out there, finding Sophia. She’s got herself in a deep shit.
I stay quiet and listen. The chatter from outside is my only clue to reality. A voice rumbles through the night, deep and full of sick joy. It’s a brute, laughing like he just hit the jackpot.
“Ivankov Bratva’s gonna fuckin’ drop like a stack of bullshit cards,” he sneers, spewing out words coated in harsh Russian accents. His grating cough follows, each sound hitting my eardrums like a punch.
Ivankov Bratva. No clue who the hell they are, but the name keeps gnawing at the edges of my mind.
A memory flashes by. Granddad, rocking in his old armchair, spouting off in Russian. He was a mean drunk, but he never forgot his mother tongue. Even when I was a little girl, curled up in a corner, trying to be invisible, I’d hear him. The Russian lullabies he sang when he was sober, the slurred curses when he wasn’t.
I guess you can say I’m half Russian, a quarter American, and a quarter walking disaster. I remember how Granddad once told me, right before he passed out on the kitchen floor, that knowing your roots can save your life. I never knew what he meant until now.
Another voice chimes in, smoother but laced with a malice that sets my nerves on edge. “Those Ivankov pricks won’t know what hit ‘em come Saturday.”
What the hell’s going down on Saturday?
Urgh! I can’t be bothered right now. Gotta think.
“Aleks has got a nice little ‘welcome home’ gift for that Ivankov shithead…right in his own damn nest,” the bear-like voice grunts, perverse satisfaction oozing from his words.
“But screw that, let’s get to the good part,” the smoother one chimes in, his voice now sharpened with a cruel excitement. “It’s been three damn days since I’ve had a good fuck,” he groans, his voice echoing with a depraved kind of eagerness. “And we got us a feisty one today.” A grin creeps into his tone as he continues, “She’s hot as hell. I heard she took down Vlad and Yuri with a rusty old pipe downstairs. Lucky for us, she’s in our territory now.”
Oh, how nice of them to talk about me.
A bitter laugh threatens to break free. They don’t have a clue what they’re dealing with.
Bring it on, you fuckers.
The stench assaults me first. A cocktail of cheap cigarette smoke and stale vodka, the kind of smell that crawls up your nose and sits there festering. I can hear sounds through the thin walls – sobs, moaning, and screams. It’s the soundtrack to hell, and I’m smack-dab in the middle.
Then, the door creaks open, and in they stroll. Two Russian assholes, laughing and joking in their bastard language.
“Dobryy vecher, suka,” the bigger one leers, looking me up and down like I’m a piece of meat. “Good evening, bitch,” his greeting translates to.
Stupid fucks. They’re talking to me like I can’t understand them. Little do they know, I’ve got a front-row seat to their twisted show, and I’m taking notes. Every vile word, every disgusting joke. It’s all fuel, and when the time’s right, I’m gonna burn these assholes to the ground.
In response, I give them a glare that should’ve set them on fire. Behind the tape, I grin, making a soundless laugh. Something about it pisses them off, and that’s my win for the night.
“You think this is funny,suka?” the big one snarls, his laughter gone. The smaller one smirks, his eyes scanning me with a hunger that makes my skin crawl.
“Can’t wait to feel your cunt,kurva,” he leers, licking his lips. He’s touching himself as if it’s a sexy tease.
Gritting my teeth, I let the rage fuel me, keeping the fear at bay. Their words are vile, their intentions clear, but they don’t know who they’re dealing with. I’ve fought back from worse, and I swear on everything holy, I’m gonna make these pricks pay. I’m not one to break so easily. I have plans, too, and theirs doesn’t factor into mine.
I’m gonna burn their godforsaken world to the ground. Let’s see who’s laughing, then.
The puny bastard edges closer, his grimy fingers clamping around my tit, circling my nipple. He grins like he’s hit the jackpot, but he doesn’t know shit.
My laughter bounces off the walls, muffled by the duct tape but clear in my eyes. He isn’t laughing anymore.
He peels the tape off my mouth, recoiling at my derisive smirk. “You two big cocks,” I rasp, my voice rough from the tape. I flick my tongue over my lips, suggestive, crude. “Bet you’re aching to get a piece of this.”
His brows climb up his forehead, but I plow on, “Just look at me, all trussed up.” I roll my eyes toward my bound hands. “Ain’t gonna be a good ride, is it?”
The stunned silence that meets my crude provocation is priceless. They expected a scared little mouse. Instead, they’ve got a wildcat. They’re about to find out how deep the claws go.
“I can do better than this,” I continue, my voice a low purr. I tilt my head to the side, regarding them with a wicked glint in my eyes. “Bet you boys haven’t been properly taken care of in a while. Let me do that for you.”
