Page 94 of Delivered to the Devil

I grapple weakly at his legs as my consciousness slips away, darkness hovering around the edges of my mind. But it’s not a threatening darkness. It’s sort of peaceful, really, and I find myself being drawn to it even knowing what it entails.

“You’re mine. I control all of you,” Janos whispers against my ear just before he tightens his grip. Like the flick of a switch, all strength drains from my body. I collapse against Janos, limp in every muscle and bone. Blackness takes my vision, but just before I lose consciousness, Janos releases my throat.

I gasp as blood rushes to my brain, welcoming me back to the real world. It’s like a reset button, wiping the slate clean—a rush of relief so strong it sends me into tears. Janos turns my still sluggish body around and cradles me in his arms, and my whimpers turn to sobs as he presses me into his shoulder.

I don’t want to die. I want to stay here. With him.

But if I can’t be his, maybe this is the right way to go. I can’t end it myself anyway. Being in his arms when it all ends is all I could ever hope for.

Once I’ve cried out, Janos pulls me away from him and swipes his thumb along my cheek to collect the remaining moisture. “There’s one other option.” He hesitates as if he doesn’t want to say it. “I have a couple of acquaintances in Russia. They have no association with Gabor. They’re coming toBudapest in a month or so. I can keep you hidden here in the meantime. They’ll get you out safely.”

The tension in his features tells me he hates this idea as much as I do. But he’s willing to do it anyway. For me. My heart swells, and I stare into his eyes with open honesty written all over my face. “I’d rather die in your arms than be away from you again.”

He studies me for a moment as if gauging my sincerity. Then his expression turns solemn as he nods. “Okay.”

CHAPTER 44

“While We Sleep”

by Insomnium

Rebecca

“The meeting went well.” Janos throws a plastic bag on the bed and unlocks the cuff on my wrist. “Get ready. We’re leaving in half an hour.”

He shoves the bag into my arms, and I bring it to the bathroom, where I freshen up and find that he has gotten me new clothes. Tight jeans, a feminine blouse, and a pair of sneakers. He has even gotten me makeup, which I use a little of.

I feel like a new person when I turn in front of the mirror and take it all in. After ten days in Janos’s shirts, it feels strange to wear normal clothes. But I like it. The outfit looks good on me, enhancing my curves as well as hiding the scars. The makeup brightens my face, and it gives me a boost of confidence, making me feel new and fresh in an odd sort of way. I get the feeling that the clothes and makeup are more for my sake than Gabor’s. Gabor never did care how I looked, only that the setting was prim and proper.

The thought of the man who is my living nightmare squashes my newfound confidence. Tremors rattle through my body as I go to the hall and wait for Janos—wait for him to take me back to the hell he freed me from.

My mouth twists when I see the hoodie in his hand as he enters the hall. I’m not sure why I detest it so much. Maybe because it represents the things I had to do to get here, or because it’s plain ugly. Either way, I comply anyway when he holds it up for me to stick my arms through.

“Keep your head down until we’re in the car.” He pulls the hood up and pushes my hair into it. “We don’t want anyone finding out you’re here before we get there.”

Janos has donned his black suit, and shivers skitter down my damp skin as I feel the cool professionalism roll off him as he leads me down the street with a firm grip on my arm. I feel like a pig up for slaughter, and my mind runs rampant with ugly memories when he shoves me into the back of an SUV with tinted windows. It’s probably the same car he picked me up in when I got detained at the airport a year ago. It seems like a lifetime ago, and I can’t wrap my head around how I went from being a desperate victim, who would do anything to escape, to a willing participant, who would do anything to stay. I don’t know if I’m broken, brainwashed, or have actually found a place where I belong. Neither do I know if it matters.

We cross the Margaret Bridge and drive into the Buda hills along winding roads, through luscious greenery, and past expensive houses that grow more luxurious as we go. The view is breathtaking as we ascend the hills. But I know the beauty is a lie and keep my attention on the river that stretches out below us, a calm constant at the center of the city.

Janos breaks me from my thoughts. “I’m gonna negotiate the price.” He meets my gaze in the rearview mirror. “Money is not a problem, but if I’m too eager, taking the first bid, I risk he’ll back down.”

I simply nod, not knowing what else to say.

A minute later, he drives up in front of a tall iron gate. “Lose the hoodie,” he says before rolling down the window and speaking into an intercom.

The gate slides open, and fear becomes a vise around my chest as we continue down a long avenue leading to a huge mansion. Like everything else in my nightmare, luxury and flashy beauty are a cover for the muck hiding beneath the surface.

I fight to rein in my anxiety, but all I manage is to keep the contents of my stomach down when Janos opens the door for me. My face must be pale as a sheet, and my hand trembles as I grab the door to support myself as I climb out.

“Don’t look at Gabor unless someone tells you to. You’re nothing but a commodity to him, and it’s best if you act the part.” Any trace of compassion disappears in the blink of an eye as Janos grabs my arm and steers me toward the house.

Two suit-clad men meet us at the stone steps before the front door, and Janos greets them like they’re good friends. They let us pass without question, and I’m quick to lower my gaze to the shining marble floors when Janos leads us into the building and down a long, wide corridor.

My legs are shaking like leaves as we stop at the end of the hallway and Janos knocks on a door. His grip on my arm might well be the only thing holding me up.

Keeping my head down, I only see shiny leather shoes when the door opens, but the feeling of the man before me is as oppressive as ever. The hairs on my neck stand on end, and icy shivers shoot down my spine. All my instincts beg me to bolt, and it takes everything I have to stay in place.

“What do we have here?” Gabor’s voice holds the same foreboding enthusiasm as the last night he used me. “Such a lovely surprise.” Besides the dark glee, his voice doesn’t give away much, but I sense the surprise hidden in there.

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