Focus.
The man in the suit rummaged through my stuff, ripping open a plastic bag. His face twisted in disgust at the pig skins that rolled out while the cop unraveled the purple satin cloth, letting the vibrator fall to the table. I could have piped up that the pig skins were for my sister and her tattoo practice, and the toy was a gag gift for my best friend, but something told me I was better off keeping my mouth shut.
Their voices carried over the hum of an ancient radiator clanking to life. I could only make out a few words.
“Human skin… psycho… She must work for the Irish…”
I chuckled. Of course something like this would happen to me.
The cop’s head snapped in my direction, his eyes narrowing. He was gripping the toy so hard his knuckles were turning white, and I couldn’t stop the cackle that spilled out.
Maybe they would think I was some unhinged deviant and let me go free.
Wishful thinking.
The cop took a step toward me, and I raised my chin in a challenge.
“Leave her.” The man in the suit checked his phone. “The Pakhan is here. He will handle her.”
“Fuck that. She killed Ruslan.” The cop’s nostrils flared. “I’ll get her to confess.” I narrowed my eyes at him as his gaze traveled up and down my body, lingering on my breasts. “You’ll talk, won’t you, girl?”
“I said no.” Mr. Suit straightened out the collar of his dress shirt. “I vouched for you, and you will obey, Sergei.” He pushed past him and took the stairs two at a time to the top. “I’ll be back with the Pakhan. Behave.” The door slammed behind him as Sergei leaned against the table, flipping a slim metal tool that looked like an ice pick.
He was the only thing standing between me and my freedom. If I could get my hands free and get to my knife, then I could make a run for it. But who knew what was on the other side of that door? They kept saying the word Pakhan, and even with my limited knowledge of the Russian mafia, I knew that meant boss.
Sergei turned his back to me and examined the tools on the table, which was the only chance I needed to get free. The sweat covering my body was making the ropes slippery, and my wrist started pulling free from one of the bonds. He turned around, knife in hand, and my excitement instantly died. His eyes darted up to the staircase, then back to me, a sick smile on his face as he came closer.
“Who do you work for?”
His breath reeked of cigarettes and cheap vodka. I turned my head to the side, not saying a word. Fuck this guy. I’d faced scarier men in darker alleys when I used to run with Ray and his crew.
“You will talk, or I will make you.” He gripped my chin, the grime under his nails making me want to throw up as his fingers lingered near my lips. “Maybe I’ll cut out your tongue, since you don’t want to speak, hm?” He cocked his eyebrow, his fingers digging into my flesh until my mouth fell open. “But first I’ll have some fun with this mouth.”
“You stick your micro-dick anywhere near my mouth, and I’ll bite it off.”
His hand struck my cheek, sending my head spinning and leaving me breathless.
This guy was so dead.
I would make him regret every vile word spewing from his mouth. Rage flooded my veins as I pictured all the horrible ways I would make him pay.
He squeezed my chin tighter, forcing me to look at him. “Last chance. Who do you work for, bitch?”
“Hannibal Lecter.” I kicked out, aiming for his crotch. He jumped back as the force of my boot hit him on his side.
“Sneaky bitch.” He spit at me. “You think this is funny? You should beg me to kill you before the Pakhan gets here. You should be terrified. Nobody crosses the Zokrov Bratva.”
Oh, I was fucking terrified. But I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that. When I was seven, I’d told my older brother Jameson I was scared of monsters hiding in my closet. He had pulled out a pocketknife and handed it to me, forcing me to grip it in my hand. “We don’t run from monsters, Alora. We kill them. They are the ones that should fear us. Remember that.”
That was something I had lived my whole life believing. This shit world was full of monsters trying to steal your light, but I would not let them take mine. I had nothing to lose and everything to live for. I would not be a lamb that laid its neck down to be slaughtered.
Sergei trailed the knife down my neck to the top of my shirt. “Time to play.”
“Don’t fucking touch me.” My nostrils flared ashe laughed, ripping my top open. I thrashed around, kicking blindly and hoping I would hit him. The air in the room became stifling, unbearable as he yanked at the fabric of my shirt.
And that was when I saw him.
I’d been so consumed with fighting off Sergei I hadn’t noticed the man descending the stairs. Not just any man; he was a force of darkness. Power and danger radiated off him with every step.