Page 53 of My Queendom for a Horse

The knob flies off, as if it was made of aluminum foil and not stainless steel. I splutter a bit—I can’t help it.

“You wanted to go inside?”

A normal person can’t do that. How could he yank that off? But there’s no time to ask questions. The noise of the door being busted open attracts some attention.

And I realize, a little late, that my dad wasn’t here to gamble. He wasn’t here to break his promise to me. No, he was definitely brought here against his will. His car may have been driven here and parked outside, but I doubt he did that himself, either.

Because he’s tied to a chair, clearly getting the crap beaten out of him.

And we’ve just walked into a very large gathering of men who are apparently quite angry at my father. I fumble for my phone, but the man who’s closest to me knocks it away, and my entire purse along with it. They fly out of my hands and onto the floor.

The contents of my purse scatter outward, flying across the dirty tile at strange angles. My lip gloss spins toward the wall. A tampon lands right in front of the angry man who caused the mess. A hair tie flies into the air and lands at my dad’s feet. A handful of change clatters and chimes as it lands all over the floor around the group of men. A parking ticket I couldn’t find for the life of me last week flutters to my feet.

And I count eight strange men in the room.

That’s the only useful thing my brain was doing while I watched my personal effects spill out everywhere. Counting the number of men who are gathered around, the men whose plans we just interrupted. Eight men against me and one crazy old Russian guy.

The odds aren’t very good.

The one useful thing in my purse other than my phone, which is underneath a chair three feet away, was a can of mace. And that spun across the floor and stopped in front of the boot of the tallest, scariest looking guy in the room.

“What’s a little girl doing here?” the big man asks. “This is a meeting of men.”

“She brought me,” Aleks says.

He doesn’t sound scared. I turn enough to see him. He doesn’t look scared either. So either he’s crazy, or he knows something I don’t. Are the police coming? Does he have a death wish?

Maybe he’s immune to bullets?

Then again, his mysterious earth powers are MIA, so I doubt that, even if he was immune to bullets, that’s going to help us much.

Not that these guys look like they use guns. The big guy’s brandishing a really long, really nasty looking dagger. He looks like he likes to slice things.

I hate those guys the worst.

Be honest and fight someone, or have the decency to end things quickly with a gun, right? What kind of person carves on another human with a blade for fun?

A sick one.

“Just let my dad go, and we’ll all walk out of here,” I say. “No reason to call the police or get nasty.”

The big man laughs, but it’s an ugly sound, like a pig with bronchitis. “No reason to call the cops. We agree.”

“I doubt they’d like this, though.” I point at my dad. “I get why you’d want to remind him, if he owes you money, but I think he’s motivated.”

“I’m past reminding,” the big man says. “I’m really ticked off, actually.”

“But he can’t pay you back if he’s dead,” I say. “And neither can I.”

“You are?” the big man asks.

“I’m his daughter, and I own a business. I’m a vet,” I say. “I can make enough to repay you. How much does he owe?” I tamp down on my anger with my dad. Being mad at him won’t help us, not right now. But I can channel it like I always do, to brace myself and hopefully survive this.

“You can’t come up with sixty thousand euros,” he says. “If you could have, he’d already have gotten it to me.”

If I wasn’t surrounded by terrifying men, who are all slowly moving closer, I’d close my eyes and whimper. Sixty thousand? Really? Maybe I should let them carve him up a little. “Actually, hand me the knife,” I say. “I’ll help.”

The big man laughs, but he’s also shaking his head. “I’m sorry, but your dad has exhausted his extensions. I have a reputation to uphold.”

---