Page 28 of I’m The Worst

K9?

My eyes flick to Wolff.

That’s what people call him?

Wolff barely glances at me. “Go eat something.” His voice is emotionless. “And stop wasting our food supply on strays.”

Savva chuckles, moving toward the back room with him, the door shutting behind them.

Who the hell does he think he is?

I want to march after him, rip the door open, and tell him to eat a bag of dicks. But my legs are still shaking, the adrenaline making me nauseous.

Moving into the kitchen, I grip the counter until the room stops tilting. My skin crawls. My brain spiraling for something to take the edge off.

Alcohol.

My hands are pulling open cabinets before the thought finishes forming.

Cupboard. Nothing.

Next cupboard. Empty. Just mismatched mugs.

Under the sink. Cleaning supplies.

I yank open the last one, harder than I mean to. Not even a cooking wine. Nothing. Wolff doesn’t keep anything that could take the edge off. Stupid control freak psychopath.

Fine.

I slam the door shut and grab the first thing within reach—a half-stale pack of crackers. Tearing it open angrily, I shove one in my mouth, chewing even though my stomach churns at the taste. I don’t want food, but I need something to do.

The dry crumbs stick to my tongue.

I grab another anyway.

A small laptop sits on the table. I bump it with my hip, and the screen lights up instantly. A paused porn video fills the screen. I roll my eyes—figures.

I don’t mean to press play. But my finger moves anyway.

The woman on the screen is beautiful. Long, thick blonde hair cascades down her back, her tan skin glowing under the dim lighting. Her full lips wrap around a cock, her perky, round tits bouncing as another man fucks her ass.

She looks perfect.

I stare at her, and my heart sinks. I will never look like that. I touch the bruises and cuts around my neck. A tear slides down my cheek before I can stop it.

I used to be beautiful.

Now I’m…

The bedroom door creaks open, and I slam the laptop shut, eyes stinging with more tears. I bolt down the hall, but Wolff stops me before I reach my room.

“We’re leaving soon.”

I don’t answer. I don’t care. I just want to be away from him, away from this place, away from everything. He keeps talking as he follows me.

“Savva and his men will escort us to a port. From there, we take a ship to Finland. Once we’re out of Russian airspace, we’ll fly to Chicago.”

I don’t ask why Finland. I don’t give a shit. What is even waiting for me when I get home? What’s the fucking point?