“Pick her up,” Kolya barks to one of his men, and the blond giant lumbers over and winds his beefy hand in my hair, using my curls to lift me—and the chair. I whimper at the pain, and my throat tightens up again. Please…just let me pass out. I think I’m still wearing my tracker—I’m fully dressed, though my earbud is gone. If Ryker’s alive, he’ll know where I am. Maybe…he’ll be able to save me.
With his back to me, Kolya digs through something on his desk. My bag. Dammit. My tablet’s in there. Except, it’s encrypted. As long as I don’t give him the password, he won’t know what I know. Won’t know about the cameras. The tracker. All of the financial data Elena and Zion stole.
“Give me access,” he orders as he thrusts the tablet in front of my face.
“No.”
“You think you are so brave?” Leaning closer, he stares me down, and his breath threatens to suffocate me. He smells like onions and sour milk, and I fight not to lose my lunch.
“Not brave,” I whisper. “But not stupid either. The minute I tell you, I’m dead. You might as well just kill me now. Because I’m never going to give you what you want.”
Kolya’s lips curve into a sneer. Perfect white teeth fill his wide mouth, so perfect they have to be fake. Oh God. I hope I haven’t just made a terrible mistake. “Never? If you are at all like your brother, little Red, you will beg to tell me very soon.” He turns to Blondie. “Take her to the bath. I will be along shortly with proper…motivation.”
Motivation?Oh God. He’s going to rape me. Or try to drown me. What else would he do in a bathroom? The big guy pulls a jackknife from his pocket and flips it open, waving it menacingly at me as he comes closer. His partner moves behind me, and in seconds, they’ve cut me free, but I’m too stiff, sore, and dazed to run for the door before Blondie grabs my legs and the Groper yanks my arms over my head and pins my wrists together. They carry me almost like a hammock, swinging between them, letting my back hit the floor every couple of steps. I struggle, but it’s no use. They’re too strong. With every step, my panic rises, until I’m half-sobbing, half-screaming as I thrash and buck.
Down a short hallway, then around a corner and into a lavish bedroom. I wheeze as the panic attack hits its apex and try to throw my weight from side to side, anything to get them off balance, maybe force once of them to drop me. Screaming like a banshee, I give up on all of the polite and cute curses Mama taught me. “Let me go, fuckers!”
And the Groper does. My head slams into hard, black tile, and the entire world tilts, darkens, and quiets as I fight not to lose consciousness. “There,” the Groper says in a thick Russian accent. “I let go.”
Blondie kneels down next to me and fiddles with something close to the floor. When a cold, solid weight settles around my ankle, I try to push myself up. A chain runs from the thick, metal cuff to a pipe under a gleaming black sink. Shit, shit, shit.
Heavy footsteps approach, and my heart leaps into my throat. Kolya looms in the doorway, that same, sneering grin plastered on his face. He has a small bag in his hand, and I can’t take my eyes off it as it swings from his short stubby fingers.
“Take her clothes,” he orders.
“No!” I flail my arms, trying to scramble back, but the Groper grabs my hands and uses his knees to pin them to the floor.
“If you do not want to end up bleeding to death, sweet Red, I suggest you hold still.”
Blondie’s knife waves in front of me, and I tremble as he slices through the button on my pants, then drags the blade down one leg. I’m cold. So cold. I can’t look away as he cuts through the other leg, then yanks the black material out from under me. My boots are next. Then socks.
“Stop, please,” I whisper when Blondie uses the flat of the blade to trace up my outer thigh. His sick laughter is too much, and now I’m sobbing uncontrollably. My blue shirt is next, the knife making quick work of the thin, insulating material. I start to shiver, my teeth chattering, and then the tip of the knife presses between my breasts.
“No, no, no,” I moan, but Blondie laughs as he jerks the blade through the black lace, and the bra falls away, sending my tracker tumbling onto the tile. “Der’mo,” he says, turning the small receiver over in his hand. “What is this, boss?”
Kolya snatches the device away and narrows his eyes at me. “Answer him,cyka.”
“Fuck you.”
With a snarl, the drug lord kicks me in the side, and I whimper as I struggle to breathe. Everything hurts. So much I hardly notice when my panties are cut off and yanked away. Naked, terrified, and with three huge men leering at me, I realize Kolya’s right. I’m ready to beg him to kill me.
Ryker. Please. I’m so scared. Where are you?
Crouching a few feet away, Kolya opens the bag. “Sit her up and keep her still.”
I can’t stand their hands on me, and I’m shaking all over—from fear, panic, cold, and then…from sheer terror as the Groper holds my arms at my sides and Blondie sits on my legs so he can palm my breast with lust in his eyes.
“This is how I train all of my new girls,” Kolya says as he dangles a rubber tube from his fat fingers. “You will do anything for me soon.” He wraps the rubber around my upper arm, tying it tightly, and the reality of what he’s about to do slams into me, stealing my breath.
He lights a thick, squat candle, and sulfur burns my nose. I whimper when he withdraws a vial of brown powder and pours some into a spoon. As the heroin starts to bubble, I beg, “Please. Just kill me. I can’t…I can’t do this…”
“You would be surprised how easy it is,cyka. Your brother was hooked with his first taste. After a few days…you will do anything I ask. Willingly.”
“I won’t. I can’t.” My voice turns into a squeak, then I’m crying so hard, the world takes on a watery glow and my head throbs.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he says with a sneer. “You will do whatever I say, sweet Red. Or maybe I cut you before I take the pain away.”
Blondie takes the knife and traces a line up my stomach, and blood wells as he gives the blade a flick along the side of my breast.
