Page 105 of Lies He Told Me (Bratva Crime Syndicate 1)

And yet, right now, there’s something else.

It’s too quiet.

Wherever we are, the only sound is the creepy howling of the wind. It’s cold enough to make goose bumps bubble up on my arms. “Gavril …” I say uncertainly. “A hint?”

“No,” he says, a smile in his voice. He rubs my arms.

Why do I have the feeling that I’m about to be very, very disappointed?

The door creaks open. Gavril leads me through another series of cold places, and then, finally, stops. “Here we are,” he says, and takes off the blindfold.

As soon as I see what’s before me, I have to fight the wild urge to laugh. This is a joke. A sick joke. This can’t be real.

Chained to the wall—bloodied and beaten and broken, yet still recognizable—is Damon.

A storm of sensations, feelings, emotions smash into each other as I gape at him.

“What do you think?” Gavril goes over to lean casually on the wall beside Damon. “He looks better like this, wouldn’t you say?”

“I … I …” A wave of revulsion comes over me, and I turn away. “Is he still …”

“Of course.” Gavril gives him a nudge with one toe and a horrific crackling noise comes out of Damon’s mouth. “Wouldn’t let him get out of pain that easily.”

When I don’t say anything, he continues, “Besides, I wanted him to be alive so if you wanted to have your turn …”

“Have my turn?” My voice goes shrill. “Gavril, what do you take me for?”

Gavril strides over in front of me. His brows are lowered, his expression honestly puzzled. “Joy, after what he did to you, I thought—”

“Well, you thought wrong!” I shriek. “What the fuck?”

I’m turning away, running away, hurrying I-don’t-know-where. I don’t care.

Behind me, Gavril’s voice urges me back, but I start running even faster. I’m back to that last time at Mom’s, to that horrible last night at Tent City.

Don’t stop.

You can’t stop.

Don’t you dare even thinking of stopping.

Although of course, I do, eventually. I’m no track star, after all. I’m just a delusional idiot who’s gotten herself in way too deep.

* * *

At some point, I reach a place where the road comes to other buildings. One is a convenience store. I try not to let the thought I’ve been fighting enter my head, but it does: the pure fucking happiness brimming in Gavril’s eyes when he first revealed Damon chained to the wall like that. Like a proud parent who just bought his daughter a doll.

An awful feeling clenches in my stomach when I realize something: for a moment, I was happy, too. Sure, a half second later, I felt horrified and disgusted and like I wanted nothing more than to run over there and rip off those chains, but still.

What’s happening to me? Am I turning into Gavril?

WhoisGavril, anyway?Whatis he? What kind of man thinks that, that, that…thingwas something I or anyone would want?

I wobble down the steps of the convenience store, staring off at the far-off warehouse where I came from. Where Gavril’s doing God-knows-what.

What kind of man has the power to do that to another man? What kind of man uses that power? And how could Gavril so misunderstand me that he thought that that horrific scene was in any way, shape, or form what I wanted?

“The worst part is that that sick fuck will get away with it. He’ll just find some other unwary, kindhearted people to leech off. There’s no punishment for shits like him.”

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