Page 9 of Escaping the Bratva

Twelve Years Ago

Sasha

“Let me buy you a drink,” a voice says from behind me. I’m half-expecting V, the guy that I met at the library, to be standing behind there, but when I turn around, I find one of the many frat boys. His eyes roam over my body, and my insides twist.

I hold up the drink I’m currently sipping on. It’s my third one, but I’m trying to calm my nerves. I refused to let V drive me to Spotty’s, just in case he’s a serial killer.

“I’m okay, but thank you.”

Frat Boy waves me off as if I didn’t say anything. “Come on! Finals are over. You need to celebrate,” he says. “Hey, can I get two beers down here?” He yells at the bartender.

I scrunch up my nose. I don’t even drink beer. I should have had Becca come with me. What if V forgot about our date and I have to spend the night surrounded by guys like this?

“What’s your name, beautiful?”

“Sasha.”

“Sasha, that’s pretty. Freshman?”

I take another sip of my drink, already annoyed with his question. Why can’t he just go away and let me wait by myself?

“I haven’t seen you around so you must be new,” he continues even though I’m ignoring him. The bartender sets the two beers down in front of him. Spotty’s is the only place by campus that doesn’t ID, and the students take full advantage of that.

“Here,” he says, handing the drink out to me.

I lift up my drink again. “I’m okay. I don’t drink beer.”

He takes a step towards me, crowding my space. His cheap cologne fills my nose, suffocating me. His eyes turn from friendly to dark and a chill runs down my spine.

“We have a problem?” A voice says from behind the guy. I recognize the Russian accent, and relief floods my veins. Frat Boy stands up to his full height and gives me a sadistic smile. He turns around to face V. V stands a head taller than him, and his shoulders are much wider.

“No problem at all,” Frat Boy says. He tries to walk around V, but V puts his hand out to stop him. I watch in amazement as V leans down and says something in the guy's ear that makes him turn pale. He clenches the beer tightly in his hand until his knuckles turn white. I can’t make out what V’s saying, but it has to be scaring the piss out of the guy. He swallows before turning around to face me again.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles before rushing away from us like a scared animal. I watch his back as he weaves his way through the bar until he finds a group of his identical-looking friends. It's only then that I turn to look at V, who has a smile on his face like nothing happened.

“You want to sit down?” he asks.

“What did you say to him?”

He shrugs. “Nothing important. Come on, let's grab a table before they’re all taken.”

He reaches out for my hand, and I place it in his before letting him lead me to a booth at the side of the restaurant.

“Whatever you said really scared that guy.”

“He deserved it. Watch out for guys like that.”

“Like what?”

“Guys that try to force drinks into your hand while a group of their friends stand nearby watching.”

It takes a minute for his words to click in my head.

“You think he was trying to drug me?” I whisper.

“Yes, and if the numerous rumors about that specific fraternity are true…I’d stay far away.”

His eyes never leave mine as he speaks, and I’m suddenly very aware of the intensity of his stare.

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