Page 13 of Love Bleeds Red
All at once we’re grabbed and pulled out. Some of them fight, probably Cat, but I keep quiet. I don’t think I’d have the strength to fight if I wanted to.
I hear a hard smack, and someone yells, “Move your fucking feet!”
There’s crying. So much crying that it takes everything in me not to join them.
“We should have drugged the bitches,” the other man says.
I’m shoved hard in the back and stumble forward, knocking into one of the others. We both go down hard, but with my hands restrained I can’t break my fall, so I land awkwardly on my side, scraping my covered face and bare shoulders against the rough ground. I cry out, but before I can fully register the pain, I’m hauled back to my feet with a punishing grip. “Walk!”
Tears stream down my cheeks, making it harder to breathe in the hood. The fabric clings to my nostrils as I try to inhale. Cold air hits my skin through my thin dress. I may as well be wearing nothing at all. My brain struggles to make sense of anything without the ability to see, but I force myself to focus.Count steps. Memorize turns, note sounds and smells. Anything that might help later.
Leon would be calm in this situation. He’d tell me to be patient, to observe. The thought of him centers me momentarily. Does he know I’m gone yet? Has anyone realized? I imagine my phone, abandoned outside the club, lighting up with messages from him. From Layne. From my parents.
My mom’s voice plays in my head. That final talk we had on move in day. “Always be aware of your surroundings, Bailey.”
But how can I when everything is shrouded in darkness? Still, I try.
The man digs his fingers into my upper arm as the ground changes beneath my feet. Uneven concrete to what feels like threadbare carpeting. We’re indoors now. It’s warm but somehow I know I’d be safer back outside. The air reeks of cigarette smoke and body odor.
“Bring them in the main room. He’ll be here soon,” Yuri says.
The man’s grip eases slightly on my arm, and I store this information away. Maybe they relax when they think we’re secure. That might be useful knowledge later. I’m not going to scream or fight like Cat—not yet. I’ll find a moment, an opportunity, and I need to be ready for when it comes.
We’re herded into a room and told to sit on the floor and not move. At least it’s covered in musty smelling carpeting and not more cold concrete. My whole body aches, and the reprieve from being on my feet is welcome, even as my mind races through scenarios, possibilities, escape routes I can’t even see.
Heavy footsteps pace the floor and one of the others trembles close enough that I feel her against my shoulder. “It’ll be okay,” I whisper, not believing it myself but needing to say something. She trembles harder. I shift over so our bodies are touching, seeking comfort for us both, but something hard presses against the side of my head.
“I told you not to move, bitch. Maybe I should teach you a lesson? You’d like that wouldn’t you? Asking for it in that dress.”
My stomach drops. “No, please. I’m sorry,” I manage to say through chattering teeth. “I won’t move.”
The sound of his belt unbuckling has me curling into a tight ball. The object against my head—a gun, most likely—slips down. Time slows as I calculate my options, none of them good.
“Don’t touch her!” Cat yells. More of the girls cry. But me, I’m frozen, mind racing as my body refuses to move.
“Shut the fuck up or you’re next!”
His zipper sounds so loud. It’s the only thing I hear.
Until another voice, cold with an accent slighter than Yuri’s, pulls me to the present. “Anton.”
One word and Anton stops moving. The authority in those two syllables is unmistakable.
“King—I wasn’t. It’s not?—”
A single shot fires and something heavy crashes down in front of me.Anton.Hot liquid sprays my legs. The warm wetness soaks through my dress instantly.
Oh my God. Holy shit. I’m going to die.
I bite my lips so hard I taste blood, swallowing down the scream that threatens to escape.
Footsteps come closer and I smell it, even through the metallic scent of blood. Cologne, so strong my eyes sting. I’ve smelled it before.
“Don’t worry, girls. I took care of him.”
As a large palm glides along my shoulder and toward my hood, I know in my gut that this man is so much worse, and as the fabric lifts away, revealing his face, my suspicion is confirmed.
CHAPTER FIVE
