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“I wasn’t stealing from him. His bag fell and I was putting it back,” I say, trying to lie again when I know I shouldn’t.
The man behind me yells in frustration. “Sloane, if you’re going to steal from me, you’d better own up to it.”
“From you?” My eyes widen.
“Stealing from me is wrong, but stealing from him isn’t?” He holds up the chain in front of my face. He knows I stole something from him, and instead of taking it back, he’s dangling it in front of me as if I’m a child begging for a piece of candy. “You want it?” he asks. “Take it.”
My frustration builds as I try to step away, accepting the chain as a loss, but he doesn’t move. He doesn’t move an inch. His tall frame overpowers mine.
“What do you want?” I ask.
“What makes you think I want anything from you? If you want the chain, take it.” His looks are serious, and his words make me question everything around me.
If he isn’t upset with me stealing, then he shouldn’t have stopped me.
He waves it in front of me. It’s humiliating. I never beg for anything.“Ostavlyat'.” Leave.Well, he’s not making me beg, but it feels like it in an odd way.
I take in a deep breath and reach for the chain.
Mikhail looks at the man, his face clear of any emotion.He slicks his hair back and walks around me in a circle. My breathing picks up when he pulls on my hair. “Sloane,” he says my name, annunciating the vowels slowly.
“I should really get back—” I start, but he stops me.
“And where exactly will you be going?”
For the first time in a while, I’m at a loss for words.
“What happened to your words? You had so many of them only a moment ago.” He stops right in front of me, but I force myself to look at the ground. I wouldn’t be here if I listened to my brother. Hell, he’s right around the corner—I could still go to him, but there isn’t a doubt in my mind these men would follow me.
It seems the predators finally found their prey.
Mikhail grabs onto my shoulders and turns my body toward the road. “Get in the car, Sloane.”
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
I raise my gaze to his. His blue eyes turn dark, piercing mine.
“I don’t want to,” I tell him.
His head falls back, making his neck appear thicker. His teeth graze his bottom lip. “Oh, I don’t care what you want.”
We battle one another with our eyes until he looks at one of the men behind him.
“Lev, posadi yeyo v mashinu.” Lev, go put her in the car.
Lev, the man Mikhail was speaking to, steps up, grabbing my arm. “Sleep tight.”
I hardly have a second to react when I feel a sharp pain—a pain I know all too well—stab my arm. Mikhail’s lips form a smug smile.
“What did you—?”
Black.
CHAPTER4
