Page 56 of Ace of All Hearts

He grabs the legs just before I fall back. “Rose,” he chastises me. “Enough.”

“Sam,” Lik’s sweet voice rises. The concern in it is whiskey mixing with honey.

Sam attempts to try and zip-tie my ankle to the chair, and I shriek, kicking again. “Don’t!”

A strong Russian accent. Even stronger hands. “Stop moving, girl. It is going to hurt anyway.”

My breath cuts off for a few seconds before I can inhale again. Panting with fear.

“Sam.” This time it’s alarm that adds to the glorious cocktail that is Lik’s voice. “She’s having a panic attack.”

“She’s no—"

“Stop, stop!” My ears are ringing so loudly that I can barely hear my own voice. Am I shouting? Can they hear me?

Two pairs of hands now. One holds me down while the other ties the zip-ties around my wrists. Every time I fight, he tightens it. “You want more, girl?”

My stomach recoils, sickness causing me to feel dizzy. I sense my skin dampening and my head rolling back.

“Don’t, don’t…”

“Don’t, don’t, don’t…”

“Finally some begging,” someone laughs behind me.

“Please, don’t…”

The sound of my pants ripping makes me shriek. I’m going to be sick. This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening. I pull at the zip-ties, again, and again…and again.

“You want them tighter, baby girl?” More cackling. There are more of them. Acid makes its way up my throat and I heave, close to vomiting on the dirty floor I’m on.

The zip-ties around my wrists tighten again.

“It hurts!”

“Princess, I’m not touching you…”

Blood drips down my wrists. It’s nothing compared to the deep ache from the hits, the slaps, the nosebleed. My lips hurt, I think they’ve busted open.

“Little girl trying to play with the big boys.” Aleksei’s voice is freezing cold. Russian winter, heavy snowflakes, thick ice. His hand pulls at my hair, and my neck is pulled back so far I can’t even swallow anymore. He speaks in my ear, heavy breath and spit chilling my skin.

“You’re about to die. Because while your body will live, your soul will be too shattered to ever be put back together. Maybe then you’ll start understanding how I feel now that you’ve killed my father.”

He pushes my face against the dirty floor.

“What are you waiting for, guys? Don’t be gentle.”

I try to crawl away. Even with my hands tied behind my back. Desperate.

British Empire, Mongol Empire, Russian Empire…

A foot on my back, my chest crushed against the floor. Hands on my hips.

Qing dynasty, Spanish Empire…

Pain. I scream, and blood spits out of my mouth. Stars dance in front of me. The ache is so deep, my stomach spasms.

Second French colonial empire, Abbasid Caliphate…

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