Page 45 of Scorned Beauty
I had taken the bus to the hospital. Now I wished I had driven the van tonight, but it’d become temperamental lately and I didn’t have time to take it to the shop. I debated whether I should call for a ride, but I didn’t want to waste money. Besides, I could never hide from the bratva if they wanted to find me.
A shadow detached from the dark corner of the building. I hated it when I was proven right.
Anton stood in front of me.
“Is that your work in there?” I asked.
“Is he dead?” he asked.
All my disgust and guilt about the situation shot through my head.
Fury erupted, and I slammed my hands on Anton’s chest.
“Fuck you,” I snarled. “Who do you think you are?”
I must have shocked him with my defiance.
“My brother may have sold his soul to the bratva, but don’t think for a minute you can ask me for more. This hospital,” I hissed, “is my life. My sacred space. You do not ask me to sacrifice whatever decency I have left.”
Fingers grabbed my neck, and my head bounced off the wall. I started choking. Oxygen became a scarce commodity as my body fought for survival. Should I have kept my mouth shut? Should I have given Anton what he wanted? It wasn’t just a fight to live, but it was a fight for my dignity. My soul.
I couldn’t scream. My eyeballs bulged, so I couldn’t glare. But my mind screamed.
Fuck you!
“Suka,” he growled. “We own your brother. We own you. Just because we haven’t bothered you in months doesn’t mean you’re free.”
Black dots danced along the edges of my vision.
A rush of oxygen sent relief crashing through my limbs. He’d let me go. I hated that I sank to the ground, and I was close to tears.
He kicked my thigh. “Grigori likes you, but you’re nothing special. If you cease to be useful, then you can start digging your own grave because that’s how it’s going to end.”
He walked away. I didn’t know how long I sat there, seized by an involuntary shuddering. I wanted to hide in some small town or another big city and be done with this bullshit.
Another nurse coming off shift found me and I made an excuse that I had a blood sugar crash. I didn’t know how I got home.
I spent a long time in the shower as if the hot water would scald away my guilt. Finally, I crawled into bed. Ginger hadn’t fussed when I came home. Dom still bought the expensive tuna for her, but I knew I was going to be late today, so I left her enough kibble.
My cat jumped on the bed. I was on my side, and she burrowed into my arms.
Exhaustion drained me, but my sleep was fractured. I kept seeing Anton shoot the lawyer. I kept seeing the lawyer being wheeled in, leaving a trail of blood.
Of blood erupting from his chest cavity like a fountain.
Then the patient sat up on the exam table and pointed a finger at me.
Anton’s fingers tightened around my throat.
I started screaming.
“Sloane!”
But how could I scream when I was choking?
“Sloane, baby.”
My eyes opened to see Dom’s worried face.
