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After a long moment, he bent over and put his face next to mine, breathing heavily against my neck and making me want to vomit at the smell of onions and stale beer. One hand landed heavily on my shoulder and he pushed me back against the wall.
“Used goods,” he grunted in broken English, lowering his hand roughly over my breast while his other hand pressed and prodded against his crotch. He then outlined what he wanted to do to me in Russian.
I jammed my knee up between his legs and slammed my head into his chin, knocking his head back. Once again I saw stars and screamed until my throat was raw.
“Crazy fucking bitch,” the goon said, backing away while rubbing his chin.
My father stuck his head in through the door. “I can hear her all the way up here. Come with me, Ilya. I wanted you to keep her quiet, not make her squeal like a stuck pig.”
Ilya gave me a rude gesture and at the top of the stairs flicked off the light, once again plunging me into near total darkness. I was definitely scared, but hopelessness won out. No one was going to save me. It was because of me that Yuri was gone and no one else cared enough. The fact that I could now see clearly how much Yuri actually did for me and how little I deserved any of it nearly broke me. I stopped caring about what happened to me next, not feeling like I deserved to be saved from the horrors my father had in store for me.
I curled up on the bench, fighting the despair. If I could regain my strength and keep my wits about me, there might be a chance to escape. I had little hope whatever new man I was destined to be sold to next would be anything like Yuri. No one was like Yuri.
Tears slid down my cheeks. The only man I ever loved was gone, and it was all my fault. I forced myself to sleep, so I could escape the indescribable pain of losing him.
***
I didn’t know how much time had passed when my father shook me awake. The bright overhead lights were on again, but a glance at the high window showed that it was dark outside. The respite of sleep was short lived, and the grief rushed me as soon as I was aware of my surroundings. I stared at my father in a stupor, unable to work up any feelings about his presence. Nothing mattered.
“Yuri is alive after all,” he said.
My hopes soared, and I dropped my head into my hands to hide the joy I felt. If my father thought I was anything other than miserable, he’d make sure to change that, and painfully. He tipped my chin up with a cruel smile.
“He was spotted heading to the airport,” he told me, dashing my hopes and destroying my happiness in one blow. “It looks like he’s washed his hands of you. Didn’t even try to look for you before running back home to his brothers.”
My heart was broken for myself. There wasn’t going to be another chance with him, a chance to make up for all the trouble I’d caused. But in spite of my heartache I was still thrilled to hear he was alive. The crushing burden of guilt and grief lifted, and I found a renewed determination to get out of there.
“I’m not a widow,” I said with a smile of my own. “I can’t legally marry someone else.”
Could it be so easy that he’d let me walk out of here once he realized I was no use to him?
At the look of pure hatred on his face, I steadied myself for a blow, but he only stomped back toward the stairs. “We’ll see about that,” he called before he slammed me back into darkness.
My head still pounded from the whack from the gun, and everything still seemed utterly bleak. My father had come down here to tell me about Yuri in order to gloat about him running out on me. That hurt. Enough to almost kill me. But he was alive. That was a cause for joy. Nothing else mattered as long as I knew such a wonderful man was still alive. Maybe I wasn’t a lost cause, after all.
More determined than ever to get out of there alive and without a new husband, I forced myself to relax and sleep some more to keep up my strength.
The sun broke through the tiny window when the door burst open again, jerking me to wakefulness. For one sleepy second, I had a surge of hope that Yuri hadn’t gone back to Miami after all, and he was the one busting down the door to rescue me.
It was only my father and his perverted goon, Ilya, both of them much too smug and pleased with themselves. The disappointment was crushing. Ilya stood by the stairs while my father marched over and pulled out a skeleton key, unlocking the chains that held my arms to the wall. Over his shoulder, I saw Ilya square up in front of the stairs, as if I’d be stupid enough to try to break past him. There was going to be a time for that, I just had to wait for it. My father was practically giddy as he shoved me forward, and my curiosity got the better of me.
“What’s going on?”
He pushed me into Ilya, who gripped my arm and dragged me up the stairs. “Since your cowardly ex-husband is well on his way back to America, I’ve decided I’d rather be at home. It should be perfectly safe to move you since no one’s looking for you now.”
That’s why he was so gleeful. Once he got me in his house way out on the outskirts of the city, I’d be relegated to the torture basement. A place that made this dank hole seem like a four star hotel.
“He’s not my ex-husband,” I said stubbornly.
Ilya twisted my wrist as my father shoved me up the stairs. “For all intents and purposes, yes, he is.”
So that was how he was going to get around it. Simple lies. At the top of the stairs, he pushed past his goon and grabbed my face, digging into the places where I was sure there were already bruises.
“We’re going to walk out onto the street and get into my car. Don’t make a scene. We’re in a neighborhood I control so you’ll only embarrass yourself if you try something foolish.”
I tried twisting away, but he held on tighter. “Don’t forget my face has to heal before you show me to the new buyer,” I said, nearly gagging on the words.
An awful smile peeled open some of his blisters. “Don’t worry about that. This new gentleman has a taste for blood. He shouldn’t mind a few cuts and bruises.”
