I can only think about Roman and Nana.
Who’s going to take care of her if I die? Who’s going to be there for her when she needs help getting in and out of the shower? Or pick up groceries? Or even just talk to her whenever she’s feeling lonely? I can’t imagine her living on her own, mourning the death of her last living relative. It’s too painful.
All I can do is plan for how I’m going to get out of this. Konstantin has already taken so much from me. My parents. My childhood. He doesn’t get to take anything else. No fucking way.
Up front, the officer says, “You’re awfully quiet back there.”
I don’t say a word. Fuck him. He only wants to goad me into a reaction.
“C’mon, what happened to that fighting spirit, Lucy?” he chuckles.
For the rest of the ride I fantasize about killing him.
If I could manage to get my arms out of these ties, I’d jump up front and jerk the steering wheel to the left, throwing us into oncoming traffic on the highway. It would be an instant death for him, but I just might make it out alive.
If my hands were tied in front of me, I’d throw my hands over his head and use the ropes to choke him to death. That might also end in a car accident, but my probability of surviving would be much higher.
I could maybe even grab his gun and put a bullet in his head before he realized it. Quick, easy. It wouldn’t be my first time shooting a man dead. It’s almost scary to think that I’m the same person. Three weeks ago, the sight of the man I shot left me traumatized. Now, if I could manage to get his gun off him and empty the clip into his back, I’d be proud. I don’t know who I’ve become.
The officer begins to slow down, and I feel my stomach sink. We’re here. Time’s up.
He parks and climbs out of the vehicle, slamming the door shut behind him. For a long time, nothing happens. I lie waiting, praying for some kind of miracle. Then the back door opens and a man’s shadow fall over me.
“Come on,” he says, reaching in. I struggle the entire time, fighting him as he tries to pull me out of the car. I even manage to roll around and throw a kick at him, only he’s faster than me. He catches my foot and tugs hard, yanking me onto the pavement.
“Get the fuck up,” he mutters, grabbing my shoulders. My head is slightly spinning, but I manage to stand upright.
“Where are we?”
“This is where Konstantin does all his business,” he replies.
There isn’t anything around for miles besides rows and rows of what look to be abandoned warehouses. I’ve never been to this part of town, but clearly nothing good ever happens down here. I can imagine all kinds of horrible things that Konstantin has done out here. It’s secluded, and something tells me if I tried to scream for help, nobody would be able to hear me. We’re all alone out here.
“Let’s go,” he says, pushing me forward. I take an uneasy step, but I don’t have time to adjust before he gets sick of me and starts dragging me.
The warehouse inside is bustling with people, and all eyes fall on me when we enter. Most seem to look away or head back to work when they see me, but a few stop and watch, seemingly amused. Long tables full of weapons are set out, and men of all ages and races work, counting money, packing away bricks of white powder into backpacks. Konstantin is worse than I ever thought possible.
The officer pulls his phone from his pocket and makes a quick call. “We’re down here.”
I could make a break for it. I’m faster than this guy is, and he wouldn’t see it coming. I could maybe get a few seconds of a head start. But where would I go? There’s nobody around to help. I’d be running for miles, and he has a car. He’d be able to catch me without even breaking a sweat.
The officer’s head tilts back, and I follow his gaze. Upstairs, there’s an office with a massive window. Everyone else in this warehouse is dressed casually, but the man that I catch a glimpse of up there seems to be dressed to the nines. He opens the door to the office and crosses the catwalk down to the stairs.
As he approaches, I get a better look at him. I know him immediately. He looks so different in person, but exactly the same. Piercing brown eyes that look dark enough to be jet black. A large, straight nose. Facial hair that’s perfectly trimmed. Even his suit is tailored to perfection, his jacket and the top three buttons on his white dress shirt unbuttoned stylishly.
“Well look who it is,” he says. His voice is like silk, but I know what he’s really about. I know the kind of man he is.
I don’t reply. I glare at him instead.
“She’s not so talkative,” the officer smirks.
“That’s okay,” Konstantin says. He steps closer and tilts my head up by my chin. “We’ll get her to talk soon enough.”
I jerk my head to the side, shivers running through me. If I thought I could get away with it, I’d take a bite out of him.
“Take her up to one of the back rooms,” he says. And just like that, he turns his attention to something else. Something more important.
I fantasize about rushing him. In some sick way, I want his attention again. I deserve his attention, after everything he did to my family. But instead, he crosses the room to talk to others, tossing me aside like I don’t matter.
The officer drags me through the building, leading me through corridor after corridor. This place is huge; far bigger than it looks on the outside.
