The footsteps get closer. Two, no, three pairs. Great. It’s a fucking party.
“Hey there, princess,” one of them calls out in English. “Ready for some fun?”
I don’t answer. Just glare at the bars, waiting.
A face appears. Fucking hell. This guy looks like he was put together with spare parts. Nose crooked from too many breaks, a scar running from his left eye to his jaw. His eyes, though… cold and empty. Shark eyes.
He grins at me, showing off a mouthful of gold teeth. “Not very talkative, are we?”
I spit at the bars. It doesn’t reach him, but the message is clear.
He laughs, his yellowed teeth glinting in the dim light.
“Ay,mudak!” the other guard barks from somewhere behind him. “Get back here. Boss will kill you if the bitch tries anything funny.”
I can’t help but sneer. “Aw, scared I might bite? Don’t worry, I’ve had all my shots.”
Spare Parts flips me off, then shuffles back to his post. I slump back down, my legs grateful for the break. The concrete’s still cold as a witch’s tit, but I’ve got bigger problems.
Time crawls by. The dripping water’s still driving me nuts, but now there’s a new smell cutting through the mildew—cigarette smoke. These assholes are having a fucking smoke break while my family’s God knows where.
I strain my ears, catching bits of their conversation in Russian. Thank fuck for Grandpa Sergei’s drunken lessons.
“The young girl in the next cell is a real beauty,” one of the assholes says. “Blonde, right? A shame to waste her just sitting there.”
My stomach drops. No. No fucking way.
“Em, I think they called her,” the other one grunts. “Wonder how long until Zimniy or Elena give us the go-ahead. She’d be fun to break.”
Red fills my vision. Em. My baby sister. These fuckers are talking about—
Breathe, Wren. Don’t lose your shit. Not yet.
“Elena’s too busy playing mind games with the boy,” the first guard mutters. “But the minute she’s done, maybe we’ll get a turn with the little blonde.”
I taste blood. Fuck. I’m biting my cheek so hard I might chew right through it.
“Hey!” I call out, my voice cracking like I’ve been gargling glass. “I… I can’t do this anymore. I’ll talk.”
Silence. Then, the scrape of boots on concrete. I strain my eyes, peering into the dim hallway. Two shadows detach from the wall, moving toward my cell.
“What was that, princess?” Spare Parts calls out, his ugly mug coming into view. “You got something to say?”
Ugly’s right behind him, hand resting on his holster. Smart boy. Too bad it won’t save him.
I force myself to my knees, legs shaking. Not all an act; I’ve been sitting on this frozen fucking floor for hours. “I said I’ll talk, you deaf prick. But I want… I need to know my family’s safe.”
They’re both at the bars now, Spare Parts grinning like he’s won the lottery. Ugly’s eyes are narrowed, suspicious. Good. Let him be suspicious. Won’t change a damn thing.
“Oh yeah?” Spare Parts leans in, his breath hot on my face. It reeks of onions and asshole. “And what makes you think we give a fuck about your family?”
I bow my head, shoulders slumping. The perfect picture of submissive defeat. “Because I know where D is. But if anything happens to them, you’ll never find him,” I lie.
That gets their attention. Spare Parts and Ugly exchange a look. Bingo.
“Where?” Spare Parts demands, pressing closer to the bars.
My fingers inch toward my boot, heart hammering so hard I’m sure they can hear it. “Closer,” I whisper. “Can’t risk anyone else hearing.”
