Page 106 of For a Price

I’ve… been sold.

It’s unlike the fear I’d felt when Roman took me captive. The Russian Bear was intimidating and terrifying, but some part of me always sensed I wasn’t going toactuallybe harmed. Some part of me knew that I’d make it out in one piece.

But this… I’m not so sure.

Borys takes me down a hall I’ve never been. Dimly lit with golden sconces and lined by obsidian black doors, I’m dragged toward the third to the last on the left.

“In here,” he grunts. “Your customer will be here soon.”

He shoves me into the room and then slams shut the door.

Panic explodes from within.

I go from stunned silence to scanning the room with hysteria vibrating in my bones. I rush toward the door and pull and tug on the doorknob.

Locked from the outside.

There are no windows. No other doors.

Not even any air vents.

Almost as if designed for no prospect of escape at all.

My heart rabbits in my chest as I spin around and desperately search for some alternative. Some other glimmer of hope among what feels like a dark sea swallowing me up. The only thing I can come up with is making a weapon to defend myself.

But what could I possibly use?

The room is set up as a bedroom.

There’s a large bed in the middle with nightstands on either side and a three-panel room divider in the corner. An armchair and fireplace are on the other end, the flames already burning behind the metal gate.

I notice a glass of some kind of clear liquid resting on the mantel next to the armchair, almost as if by request.

I pad over to take a sniff, checking if it’s water or something else.

Vodka.

My stomach pits. I back away and then rush toward the bedside tables. Dragging the drawers open, I check inside for anything remotely sharp.

Anything I can use in self-defense.

The closest I find is a matching hairbrush and hair pin stowed inside the second drawer. I take the pin out but then remember I have nowhere to hide it.

I’m as good as naked.

I tuck it into the underside of the wig I’m wearing and pray it’ll stay in place.

The door flies open the next second and makes me jump. I hide my arms behind my back, dripping with suspicion, my heart finding a way to thud even faster.

It’s Borys again. He surveys me cockeyed, clearly suspecting I’m up to something.

“Sit on the bed,” he grunts. “He will want you there. Stop touching things.”

I swallow to find my voice has escaped me again. I wobble over to the bed, a dizzy spell washing over me that’s so intense it feels like I might pass out.

This can’t be happening to me. This can’t be real.

“Put this on,” Borys says, walking over what’s a satin eye mask. “He wants you to wear it at all times. If you think about taking it off, you will be punished badly. Understand?”

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