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All of this was for nothing… No, that’s not entirely true. I mether.And now, I must protect her. But first, I need to wake the fuck up.
Day 34
Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I fear no evil, for you are with me…
-Psalm 23:4
THIS PASSAGE WASmy father’s favorite. His go-to when times were tough. I remember sitting in my Sunday best with my small hands linked as I listened to his sermons. They always filled me with such hope, and whenever he spoke of this Psalm, I felt so connected to God.
How couldn’t I?
The passage claimed that no matter what evils one faces, they will never be alone.
But sitting here bound, watching an unconscious Saint bleed out in front of me, I know that Psalm is a load of shit. Where is He now? I am walking…no, I am fucking staggering through the darkest valley, but I am alone. No one is with me.
There is no saving grace.
The only grace would be for a tidal wave to swallow this yacht and drag us all under to a watery grave. However, been there, done that, and here I am, still a fucking prisoner.
My feet and hands are bound tight. I’ve tried to wiggle free but gave up when it was clear I wasn’t going anywhere. But where would I go? What would I do if I did escape? I’m trapped with a psychopath and his pet, who is far more dangerous than the man who kick-started this entire shitshow.
Zoey Hennessy hasn’t taken her eyes off me, eyes so similar to her brother’s, who lies bleeding at my feet. Rather than caring that her own flesh and blood is hurt, she’s made it clear with her death stares that she only cares about making me pay.
In some ways, I’m thankful Saint doesn’t have to see his sister, but he will soon rouse. You can’t keep a good man down. And that’s what he is. A good man.
The man who bought me in a game of poker, however, is not.
“Don’t fret,?????.” The name I once held dear has been tainted forever. “You’re safe now.”
Safe?Is he fucking high?
The Russian mobster Aleksei Popov ruined my life, so speaking to me as though we’re friends seems ironic. As he turns over his shoulder and smiles, the hair at the back of my neck stands on end. I hate him. And I will do everything in my power to make him pay for what he’s done.
“Wh”—I clear my raspy throat—“where are we going?”
Aleksei gestures with his head for one of his goons to take the wheel. It’s that simple for him. He doesn’t even need to speak for everyone to be at his beck and call.
But not me. And I never will be.
He saunters over but stops when Zoey commences to follow him—on her knees. “Stay,” he orders, addressing her like a dog.
She does as he says.
Swallowing down my revulsion, I hide my disgust at having him near me when he sits down. It doesn’t affect him in the slightest that I’m tied up. “We are going to your new home. Russia,” he explains while every part of me riots. “You’re going to love it there.”
My mouth hinges open. “Love it?” The urge to hurt him mounts. “You’re kidnapping me. I never agreed to this,” I add in case he’s lost in translation.
He’s not, and what he says next confirms Saint was telling the truth this entire time.
“But your husband did.”
And there it is. The harsh reality that’s been staring me in the face this entire time.
Saint revealed my husband, Drew Gibbs, lost a game of poker, and to pay his dues, he agreed to give me to Aleksei. At the time, he didn’t know me, so it could have been any girl. But apparently, I fit the bill, and like an idiot, I fell for his lies.
I should have known something was amiss. But I thought, for once, maybe life would cut me some slack. I was wrong.
“You can’t do this.” I wriggle against my restraints. “I’m not some piece of property you can trade! I am a human being.”
