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“What is your name?”
A simple question that should be easy enough to answer, but I’m even scared to reveal that.
I drop my eyes and whisper, “I’m a nobody.”
“It’s not fucking difficult.” He sounds exasperated. “Just tell me your fucking name.”
“Lilli.” I blink as I fix my gaze on the blood on the floor, grateful at least that my nose has stopped bleeding. Then again, there’s probably not a lot left inside me, judging by the crimson stains on the once white cloth.
He says something in a strange language and suddenly my wrists are freed and drop into my lap, where I rub the burn with one hand and then the other. The relief is enormous as my blood starts to flow once again and I whisper, “Thank you.”
He drops down on his heels and takes my wrists in his hands, inspecting each one as he growls, “Bring some antiseptic.”
Once again, one of the other men move quickly and almost immediately returns with a tub of Savlon and I’m shocked when he proceeds to rub large dollops of cream into my wrists with a surprisingly tender touch.
“You don’t have to do this.” I say softly and he leans closer and whispers, “I do what the fuck I like, and I don’t hurt women.”
My heart thumps its appreciation and then almost gives out on me when his finger tips my chin to look up at him and I stare into his flashing gray eyes.
“Who paid you to kill Lamont?”
“Excuse me?”
I blink a few times and he hisses, “You were going to shoot the bastard, and I want to know who sent you.”
“Who sent me?” I stare at him in amazement. “Nobody sent me.”
He grips my face hard and leans closer. “Then why do you want him dead?”
It’s a simple enough question, but I must be stronger to unpack that part of my soul, so I sniff, “Because he’s a bad man.”
He smirks. “That was his crime? I should watch my back.”
He reminds me what this is and where I am and I gasp, “It was a stupid mistake and I promise I won’t do it again. Just please, let me go.”
“Let you go.”
It’s as if I’ve asked the impossible and he grins, revealing a perfect set of white teeth that his dentist must be extremely proud of.
He smirks. “Why would I let you go, my crazy assassin? It’s only just getting interesting.”
I gasp as he drops my face and stands, saying loudly, “Take her to the apartment. Inform Katerina I require her services.”
He moves off across the room and I watch one of the men follow him and I shout, “Stop!”
It has the desired effect and as he turns slowly, I note the amusement in his eyes as he cocks his head. “Stop?”
I’m guessing this guy doesn’t like to be told what to do and so I say defiantly, “Take me back to the city. I’m going nowhere with you.”
The men laugh around me and my face burns as he merely turns and walks away, leaving my words hanging before me reminding me what an idiot I am.
This journey is much the same. Alone in a car with nothing but a black screen between me and the driver. However, now I have even more questions to deal with. These guys are definitely not cops. Not FBI and not even American. My uneducated guess tells me they’re Russian. If that’s true, why are they here and why prevent me from assassinating Carter Lamont? Do they work for him? Am I being taken to that disgusting creep to be dealt with personally?
A shiver of revulsion hits me when I think of what that could mean. Reggie suffered at his hands and the hell I’m going to let him do the same to me.
I need a plan. An escape plan if you like, so I spend the remainder of the journey forming one in my head.
I’ll escape at the first opportune moment. Failing that, I’ll get to a phone somehow and call the cops. We may stop at the service station, and I could request a natural break. There must be something I can do. I need to run as far away as possible because this world I have fallen into isn’t one I want to remain in for long.
