Page 72 of A Life Imagined
He staggered to his feet to discover a piercing headache, like nails hammered through his temples.He made it to the bathroom sink, where he splashed a handful of cold water against his face.Then he cupped his hands and drank from them, an unquenchable thirst rising in his throat.
Mathias studied his refection in the mirror, taking in the bruised skin and blotches of dried blood.He looked awful.He couldn’t remember the last time he’d let someone work him over like that.
When he emerged from the bathroom, he found Rayan standing by the bed with a brown paper bag.Rayan handed him a bottle of water and a pack of painkillers, and Mathias popped out several and swallowed them then threw back the water as his thirst persisted.
“Where’s Marsela?”he managed when he was done.
“She’s in the next room.”
Mathias picked up his phone from the nightstand and pocketed it.The movement sent splinters through his foggy brain, and he flinched.
“Maybe you should sit down,” Rayan said.
“The sooner this is sorted, the sooner we’ll be rid of her.”
“The sooner what’s sorted?What are you going to do, hold her for ransom?”
“Exactly.”
Mathias moved through to the other room before Rayan could protest.Marsela sat on the bed with her knees tucked demurely beneath her.Her hands were tied to the headboard and the scarf fastened around her mouth.Like him, she appeared worse for wear.Her makeup was streaked, and strings of hair were plastered to her forehead.He sat on the edge of the bed and tugged down the scarf.
She gave a tinkling laugh, and her eyes flicked from him to Rayan in the doorframe.“I’m surprised you’re standing.”
“I’ll be doing more than that.”
She fluttered her eyelids suggestively.“Something to look forward to, if that kiss was any indication.”
From across the room, Mathias felt Rayan’s eyes on him.Mathias reached behind her and freed one of her hands.She winced and rolled her wrist.Then he pulled out his phone and handed it to her.
“Call your boss.”
“My boss?”she sneered.“Is that what you think I am—hired help?”
Mathias leaned forward menacingly, and she drew back.“Call the person who decides whether you make it out of here alive.”
Marsela paled and took the phone from him.She punched in a series of numbers with a trembling finger, and Mathias reached over and hit the speaker button.The whir of the phone ringing filled the room.
There was a click, and then a man’s voice burst through the speaker.“Who’s this?”
“I dashur!” Marsela cried out, her voice cracking.
“Marsela?”
Mathias prized the phone from her hand.“English,” he instructed.
“Burim, please!”she pleaded.
“Now you have my drugs and my woman?”the voice growled in a thick accent.“Who the fuck do you think you are?”
“If you’re smart, you’ll get both back in due course.But I have no need for either, so I’d caution you to be careful.I tend to get rid of things that don’t prove useful.”
There was a long pause.
“What do you want?”
“Eight million for my trouble.The product you attempted to pass under my nose is worth twice that at least.”
“You’re out of your mind.”
