I looked back at Henry quickly, knowing I couldn’t trust him as far as I could throw him. I noticed how he looked over my shoulder at the two men behind me, something in his eyes causing them to move closer. I heard the shuffling of their feet, smelled the dirty sweat that clung to them as it filled my nose. I tensed, my muscles tightening. Although I’d taken a few self-defense classes in the past, I wasn’t a fool thinking I was any match for them.
“It’s not money I want from you, Galina.”
My heart stopped, then started racing over time.
“Leo finally offered compensation for his debt that I am satisfied with.” Henry’s grin couldn’t be called anything but perverse. “And that’s you—or more so your body and that sweet cherry you still have between your legs.”
I felt my eyes widen a second before pure horror washed through me. I looked over at Leo, but the bastard wasn’t looking at me, wouldn’t dare face me after the heinous act he’d just done.
“And don’t try saying you’re not as innocent as Leo said. I’ve been watching you, Galina. I know you don't take company with anyone. I know your daily habits, know you sleep alone every night.” Henry raked his beady-eyed gaze up and down my body and took a step toward me. “In fact, I’ve stood over your bed and watched you sleep, know you keep a pistol under your pillow.” He hummed as if that aroused him. “I even leaned down and smelled your hair on more than one occasion, wondering if your pussy smells just as sweet.”
Oh God. I took a step back, fear coursing through me, but my back slammed into one of his goons. Hands clamped around my arms, and I fought wildly, self-preservation rising up. I kicked and screamed, but it was only met with a bruising grip and laughter surrounding me. Soon enough, I was winded and defeated, tears springing to my eyes… ones I refused to let fall.
I didn’t confirm or deny what Henry said. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of breaking down. I looked at Leo once more. He was staring at me with what I could have assumed was guilt, but he also looked high as a kite.
“You were supposed to protect me,” I whispered. Those words were nothing but a pipe dream of a once vulnerable little girl. I had no mother, no father despite him standing right in front of me.
And he’d sold off my virginity to clear his debt. He sold me off as if I was a commodity.
“I think I’ll let some fucker buy your cherry for an exorbitant price. You don’t see many women still so innocent at your age.”
Like my age of twenty-one meant I was some spinster.
“And after you’ve been broken in—defiled, I’m sure—then I’ll take you for a ride before you really get used up.” I snapped my focus back to Henry. “But you look so sweet and delicious that I may not tire of you for some time. I may keep you as my personal pet for a while, Galina.” He was leering again like a sick fuck.
“And then what?” I sneered. Fuck him. Let him see my anger and wrath, even if it didn’t do any good.
His grin widened. I was pretty sure he liked me fighting back, probably got off on it. “And then I’ll sell you off nightly, recoup my money and then some.”
I struggled all over again, managing to kick the leg of the bastard holding me. He grunted and dug his fingers into me so hard I knew there would be black-and-blue marks on my flesh. I hissed in pain, and he jerked me closer to him, my back to his chest, before he wrapped a steely arm around my middle, stilling me.
“If you don’t stop, I’ll knock you out with a hit to the face,” he seethed, and I froze. His breath smelled like stale cigarette smoke and cheap liquor.
“Brutus, let's not resort to scare tactics.” Henry clucked and moved closer until he stood right in front of me. He stared at me, the leering and suggestive looks suddenly gone as he became serious.
And that terrified me the most out of this entire situation.
“It could have been worse, Galina. So much worse.”
I bit my tongue so I didn’t say something I couldn't take back. I was still trying to think of how to get out of this, even if that seemed impossible.
“And hey,” he said and grinned once more, holding his hands out as if he was some kind of martyr. “I’m not such a bad guy. I’m even going to let you go back home and gather anything you want that’ll fit into a bag. I do want you to be comfortable… until you’re not.” He gave me a wink, and my belly clenched in dread.
I didn’t ask why he was giving me that small “gift,” because it allowed me more time to think of how to escape, of how to run. What Leo and Henry didn’t know—what no one knew—was I had always felt like something bad was going to happen. That other shoe dropping. The end of the world… my world. And it was because of that that I’d already packed a bag, had escape money, no actual plan but a means to leave at the drop of a hat. If I could just get to where I’d stashed my bag and supplies, I had a chance. It was slim, but it was still a chance.
So I went slack in the asshole’s arms until he loosened his hold on me enough I could breathe comfortably. Henry cocked his head, maybe thinking I was being a little too accepting of my situation, but I didn't care. I had to be smart if I wanted a chance to survive.
I gave my piece-of-shit father one last hateful look, swearing that if I ever had the chance, I’d end him, wipe out his miserable life like he’d so easily done with mine. I was then hauled away, pulled through the dirty warehouse, and tossed into the back of the car I’d been brought here in.
The next twenty minutes as we drove through Vegas and back to my crappy apartment went by in a blur. I didn’t question why they hadn’t just grabbed my stuff when they’d taken me from my apartment. I didn’t wonder why they were even giving me this small “act of kindness”. I didn’t ask or care because in the end they didn’t care. Hell, for all I knew this was all an act to make me more compliant, to make it seem like things weren’t as bad as they were.
In the end my feelings and wants and needs, my comforts didn’t matter.
I couldn’t think straight, was sweaty and shaking, and I felt the glaring looks of the two men who sat on either side of me.
Before I knew it, I was hauled out of the back of the car and taken up to my apartment. Because my place was as shitty as they came, anyone we passed—even at this hour—minded their own business. They were either addicts and not coherent enough to care, or they knew who the men trailing me worked for and were too afraid to intervene.
“Grab your shit,” one of the men said harshly as he pushed me into my apartment after the door was opened. It was shut behind me, and I started making my way toward my room, when I felt a tight grip on my forearm stop me.
“If you do anything stupid, I’ll fucking beat you and say to hell with grabbing your shit. Got it?”
I didn’t look at the prick who spoke the words, just nodded and tugged my arm free. “I have to use the bathroom.”
“Make it quick.” His words were clipped as he followed close behind me.
Before I could go inside, he pushed his way in front and surveyed the bathroom. It was tiny and old, with rust and calcium deposits and stains on the tub and sink, a small window above the tub. He went over to the window and tried opening it, and I held my breath, praying it held. It was old and janky, but I’d rigged it a certain way that I could open it where others would see it as sealed shut.