Page 50 of Love Bleeds Red
“Bailey.” The voice that calls my name makes me freeze. I know that accent. I know his voice.
King steps out from behind the stairs, straightening his jacket. He has that smile on his face. It reminds me of twisted barbed wire, razor sharp. And the cologne—he’s not even close enough for me to smell it but it’s somehow already there, suffocating me. I gag, almost losing my breakfast. I can’t breathe. I can’t?—
“Don’t make this harder than it needs to be,” Sweeper says, as he pulls open my door and clamps a hand around my wrist.
“No,” I cry, scrambling backwards. “Please, no. You said—you said—I was lucky,” I choke out through the tears already streaming down my face. “You said?—”
He sighs and tugs on my wrist. “I said you were one of the lucky ones who got picked. That’s a different kind of luck than what you’re thinking.”
King’s voice booms across the tarmac as he yells something in Russian to the men. One of them laughs. They’re all evil, pure fucking evil.
“Where?” I sob one more time, even though I know he won’t tell me.
Sweeper’s grip tightens as he pulls me from the car. My legs are jelly, and I stumble forward before he catches me around the middle. “You’ll find out when you land.”
He passes me off to one of the men and the next thing I know, I’m being carried toward the stairs. It’s a funeral march. Even if I make it through whatever this is, I know I won’t be the same.
The engine drowns out my sobs as we stop at the bottom of the stairs where King is waiting. The man puts me down in front of him, and he looks me over with that same hungry look that haunts my dreams. Like he’s getting his favorite toy back after lending it to a friend.
“Welcome back, pet. Did you miss me?”
I can’t speak, can’t do anything but let them guide me up those metal stairs into the belly of the plane. As it takes off intothe clear afternoon sky, I know it’s carrying me away from any hope of home.
The planeslowly descends through thick, gray clouds. I’m equally terrified to see where they’ve taken me and anxious to get off this plane. I’ve spent the entire flight pressed as closely against the small window as I could, avoiding King’s snarky words and lingering gaze. He’s been oddly tame—not by normal human standards, but from what I’ve come to expect from him. I’m still expecting the worst though.
Now, as we break through the clouds, darkness greets me from below. Scattered lights twinkle from inside homes that are widely spread. It must be some kind of rural area.
“Almost home, my pet. I’ll be so sad to lose you, but don’t worry… your friend Cat will take good care of me.” King puffs out his chest and smirks as I seethe.
“Go to hell.” There’s so much more I want to say, but I’m not free of him yet. He can do a lot between now and landing.
King just laughs until Sweeper cuts in. “You should make the call.”
“Isn’t that what I pay you for?” he says.
I turn away to look back out the window, but I don’t need to see Sweeper’s face to know he’d love to punch King in the face as much as I would. “Youdon’t pay me. Your uncle does.”
They argue semantics as the landing gear comes out. I hold my breath in those final moments, but thankfully, it’s only a matter of minutes we’re on the ground smoothly.
Through the window all I can make out are runway lights cutting through the darkness. It must be another private airfield. This one looks even more isolated than the last. Rolling hillsstretch in every direction beyond the landing strip. I squint to get a better view, but it’s hard to see anything in the shadows.
When the plane finally stops, Sweeper stands and gestures for me to do the same. “Time to go.”
I follow him on unsteady legs, too exhausted to fight. Humid air hits my face as I step onto the aircraft stairs. It smells like fresh rain and something floral. I’m definitely not in New York City anymore.
Two shiny black Bentleys wait on the tarmac, their lights blazing. I notice their license plates right away. White with black letters and numbers, unlike any I’ve seen in the US. Two people get out of one of the cars and stand beside it. Their silhouette seems to stiffen the closer we get. A man and a woman, both middle-aged with graying hair and weathered faces, wearing immaculate uniforms. They almost look like they could have been our flight attendants, although the plane I just left didn’t have those.
“Ms. Harrington,” Sweeper greets the woman as we reach the car. He gives me a small push forward. “As discussed.”
She gives a sharp nod, and trails her gaze over me like she’s assessing and finds me lacking. I fold my arms across my chest. “Indeed. We’ve been expecting her.”
King, who must be finished with his phone call, jogs over to us. I wrap my arms around myself tighter, noticing that the woman clocks my movement. “Take good care of our guest,” he tells them.
Guest?I hold back a scoff.Bastard.How dare he act like I have any say in this. Like I’m more than a piece of inventory in their fucked up business.
“Of course, sir.” Ms. Harrington smiles but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “We’ll ensure she’s properly settled.”
The uniformed man opens the back door and gestures for me to get in. As hesitant as I am, I’d rather be with these strangersthan spend another second near King. I slide in, grateful for the warmth, and look ahead out the Bentley’s windshield at the long road disappearing into darkness.
