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There isn’t too much I’m qualified to do. Waitressing, working behind a counter. It looks like there are a few spots open in the big chain restaurants scattered around the mall downtown, and I consider applying for them. A craft store is looking for help with stocking shelves, but they want people who can easily lift twenty-five pounds, and I’m not sure I can manage that. I wonder if there’s anything around the apartment that weighs that much, so I can try it out.
I briefly entertain the idea of calling Eve, my best friend. Her stepbrother—now husband—is the CEO of a successful business, after all. However, that thought evaporates quicker than it enters my brain. What could someone like me possibly do in a company like that?
More than ever, I wish I had been able to stay in school. I liked it, honestly. Math was always my favorite. Numbers make sense, no matter what. There’s always a solution, and it never changes so long as the variables stay the same. A therapist would probably wave a red flag at that—after all, there wasn’t much in my life at that point that made sense, that was dependable and reliable. Not once Mom got sick in my sophomore year.
It’s too late for that now. I’m too old to go back, and I would feel ridiculous. Besides, I’m not that girl anymore. I’m somebody else now. I have to be if I want Eric to stay out of my life.
Which is why the best I can hope for is a waitressing job, something basic like that. It’s better than nothing, though. It’s not like I need much, anyway. I’ve learned to live simply—I never had a choice.
I’m halfway through applying for one of the positions when there’s a knock on the door.
Instantly, my heart leaps into my throat, and my hands shake enough that I have to put the phone down before I drop it on the floor. Is this it? I didn’t expect him to announce himself, but then I don’t have the first idea what to expect from Lucian. I don’t get visitors. I don’t have any friends in town, and I like it that way. It’s easier to blend in and disappear when you don’t have any friends.
Another knock, louder this time, like the person doing it is already running out of patience. I hustle over to the door before anybody can think to kick it open. “Coming!” I hold my breath before turning the knob.
It’s not Lucian. It’s not anybody I’ve ever seen before, at least not that I remember. He reminds me of Alexei, though. Big, broad-shouldered, dark hair, dark eyes. “Lucian sent me. You’re supposed to come with me.”
“Where are we going?”
“You’re not supposed to ask questions. You just do what he says. Let’s go.” He looks around the apartment, and it’s pretty clear he doesn’t care for what he sees. I know it’s not much, but his dismissive expression makes me want to slap him. It’s still my home, and it’s all I can afford.
I grab my purse and keys, then remember my phone on the sofa. “Hurry up,” the man growls, which only makes me want to take my time just to piss him off.
Though word could get back to Lucian, and I don’t feel like being punished. Just the thought of it makes me cringe.
There’s a black SUV waiting outside, and at least he opens the back door for me and gives me a hand so I can climb up inside. Then he closes the door without a word, sliding in behind the wheel a moment later.
Once again, I can’t help but think of myself as a lamb being led to slaughter. “You’re not going to tell me anything about where we’re going?”
“You’ll know when we get there.” His eyes are hard when they meet mine in the rearview mirror. “Enough talk.” Okay, then. I’m supposed to sit back and let everything be decided for me.
Then again, I know that’s what I signed on for when I agree to this. If I could only go back in time and tell Alexei where he could stick his money. It makes me sick to think about him and all his fake helpfulness. His sympathy, all of it a tactic intended to lure me in. I wonder how many other girls he’s lured that way and how many more men like him are on Lucian’s payroll.
It doesn’t matter how many times I tell myself I would’ve done things differently. The fact is, when Alexei found me, I was literally at the end of my rope. Completely helpless, wondering somewhere in the back of my mind whether it would really be so bad to walk out into traffic.
After a few minutes, we leave the city behind. The houses out here are bigger, well-maintained, sitting in the middle of emerald green lawns. The sort of houses for people whose parents are together, or at least both in the picture. Houses where the parents are healthy, where they don’t die from cancer and leave their kids on their own.
