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“Shut up, you drunk fucks,” a man chuckled. “You only get your cut when the merchandise sells. That’s the deal.”
“You better get top dollar, my friend. That’s all I’m saying,” another answered.
Another round of laughter followed, and I bit my lip, holding my breath as I tried my best to keep absolutely silent.
I wasn’t fully hidden and there wasn’t another way out of this part of the building unless I wanted to climb out the window and scale down the wall to the ground. I glanced over to the closest one, trying to see if it was even feasible. Sharp jagged glass peppered the windowsill. Shards of it were all over the floor, dusty after lying vacant for so many years.
I had a pair of gloves inside my bag, but there was no digging them out right now. I’d have to cut up my hands if I wanted to escape that way.
I knew I shouldn’t have gone looking, but I’d done it anyway.
I could kick myself. My escape had been right in front of me, and I’d allowed my concern for a stranger to get in the way of my own safety. I needed to figure a way out and fast.
I still had the lock pick in my hand. I twirled around and started to work on the door behind me. There should be a fire escape just outside the window of the storage room behind it. I worked at a furious pace as the Russians’ boots climbed the stairs. As soon as the lock clicked, I turned the knob and scrambled into the room.
I dashed to the window, relieved to see that it was completely shattered but mostly clear. My boots crunched on pieces of glass, but I didn’t slow. Footsteps banged behind me and just as I was climbing onto the squeaky metal escape, something caught my bun, causing my braid to come loose. I saw a man out of the corner of my eye, catching my braid in his hand as he jerked me backwards. I cried out as the back of my scalp burned with a sudden flash of pain, and I reached to try to stop him, but it was useless.
I screamed as he yanked me into the room and slammed me against the wall.
“Well, what do we have here?” the man said loudly.
“Let me go,” I yelped.
He just laughed and dragged me backwards out of the room. I kicked and pulled at his hands as he led me down the hallway. I stumbled down the stairs and his fist at the back of my head was the only reason I didn’t fall.
“I’ve got us a special treat, boys,” he blurted, and my skin grew ice cold. Several lights turned on and illuminated me to a crowd of massive Russian soldiers. They were covered in tattoos. Many had thick beards. Some were well trimmed, and others were unkempt.
“Igor? Who’s that?”
“I found someone that definitely isn’t supposed to be here,” Igor grinned.
“Where’s Sergei?” I shrieked. I didn’t see him anywhere. I knew what the man looked like at least, and I also knew that he’d always treated me with kindness when we’d worked together. I’m not certain if he would take well to the knowledge that I’d stolen from him too, but his presence would at least give me more of a fighting chance in front of these men.
“He flew back to Moscow for the night,” Igor exclaimed, and my stomach pitched forward with anxious butterflies. A droplet of sweat swept down my brow and my heart pounded frantically in my chest.
“Isn’t she pretty… I bet she’d be more fun than that sorry lot upstairs, don’t you think?”
“She’s got some nice tits hidden under that sweatshirt. I can tell. I bet they’d fill up your hands like a couple of ripe oranges.”
“I bet she’ll scream real nice for us,” another sniggered.
Igor’s breath was rancid beside me. I could only see a bit of him out of the corner of my eye. His beard was untidy, speckled with gray and black and his gray eyes were hard. He pulled my hair up, jerking me onto my toes and I still didn’t reach his full height. My eyes watered from the pain.
He was enormous. I could only guess that these men were brawlers or enforcers of some kind beneath Sergei’s leadership.
Igor grasped the front of my sweatshirt, and he tore it wide open. I was wearing a tank top beneath it, and he ripped that too, exposing the black bra I had underneath. My chest heaved up and down as he reached for the connector between my breasts.
“Touch her and I’ll kill you!” a familiar voice yelled furiously.
It was Jon.
