Page 53 of Born in Depravity

CATALINA

My eyes sprangopen at the click of the door.

The room was bathed in darkness.

I didn’t know what time it was, but it couldn’t be too late, as I could still make out some sliver of light the setting sun was leaving behind.

I’d had breakfast and lunch in this room already. Both times it was brought to me by a woman I had seen when I first came here. The one I had asked for help. What a mistake that had been. She didn’t speak English and I didn’t speak at all. Our interaction consisted of nothing more than a quick glance before she looked away.

I didn’t ask her for help again.

I’d learned my lesson.

No one here was on my side and that was all there was to it.

She had set my food down and beat a hasty retreat, and that was the only interaction I had with anyone all day.

Now, I assumed it was dinner time.

I assumed the same lady who brought me my breakfast and lunch and was coming back in with my dinner.

I assumed wrong.

I tensed and froze on the spot when I saw the shadow of a large man at the doorway. His hand moved to the wall beside him and he clicked on the light. I squinted at the sudden intrusion of light before I fully looked at him.

Mikhail.

His blue eyes took me in, his expression unreadable—though, admittedly, there was something soft about the man.

Of all the three men, I thought I related more to Mikhail than anyone else, for no other reason than that he didn’t talk as much as the other two. He was perfectly content in the background, and though not completely mute like me, he didn’t waste space with filler words.

That wasn’t to say Nikolay or Damien talked too much, but when Damien spoke, a chill would shoot through me, and I wanted to get as far away from his coldness as possible, while Nikolay was a loose cannon. I thought just the slightest pressure from me and he would blow.

I didn’t want to be there when that happened.

Perhaps this was why they’d sent Mikhail in after what Damien had done to me before. Maybe they read me too well, noticed that I had preferred Mikhail over the other two—a choice between monsters—and I stupidly wanted Mikhail to be the lesser evil.

I wanted to laugh over my own naïve thoughts.

These men were all monsters.

Worse, compared to my own father. There was nothing soft about them… nothing human, and I would do well to remember that.

I tried to swallow around the lump forming in my throat, wondering what would happen now, while hiding my shaky hands behind my back. Mikhail walked further in the room, and I noticed he was carrying a tray of food. It looked like a large piece of steak, broccoli, and mashed potatoes.

I wasn’t hungry, but I was sure he didn’t care about that.

I flinched when he set the tray down on the bedside table and sat on the edge of the bed, taking me in. I wished I wasn’t on the bed.

The things that had taken place with Damien came to my mind, and I could feel a thin layer of sweat coating my forehead.

“Hungry,kotyonok?” he asked.Kotyonok. That was the third time I’d heard him call me that, but I didn’t speak Russian, and I wondered if it was as bad as the stupid nickname Damien gave me.

I didn’t answer him, but he didn’t look like he had been expecting a reply anyhow. He smiled a little at me and slid back on the bed. I scooted as far away from as possible, my fist gripping the edge of the bed.

Mikhail sat in the center, his back against the headboard, and then, to my utter horror, he patted the spot between his legs.

I knew from the look in his eyes what he wanted.

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