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“If you had a choice, would you do something else?”
I shrug again but don’t answer because I never thought about it. Why waste your time thinking about something that can never be?
After a while, she asks, “Don’t you want to know anything about me?”
My eyes lock with hers, then I murmur, “You’re an eighteen-year-old American from Ohio who lost her parents and is alone in this world. You’ve grown up in a protected household and have no idea how to handle the shitty situation we find ourselves in. You’re a positive person because, against all odds, you still have hope to get out of this alive.” I pause for a moment before I add, “And you’re either a kind person or a weak one for agreeing to change clothes with a girl you don’t know.” My eyes flick to the door. “I know everything worth knowing about you.”
I can feel Everleigh’s eyes burning on me. “You don’t have to be a jerk.”
She might be beautiful, and under different circumstances, I would’ve taken my chance with her, but this is not the time or place to get to know someone. Growing attached to her will make me vulnerable.
Hours pass where nothing happens. It’s impossible to tell what the time is because there are no windows in the room.
I’m thirsty, and my stomach keeps rumbling.
Everleigh keeps squirming in the corner, giving me the impression she needs to go to the restroom.
My bladder is full, but I can hold out for another few hours.
I’m more worried about Vincent than anything else. He’s the eldest Aslanhov son, so they will torture him before they get to me.
They’re probably torturing him at this very moment.
I keep my face expressionless. Like I’ve been taught to do.
Papa used to beat the shit out of us until we learned to show no emotion. Now I understand why he did it.
My father isn’t a good man, and honestly, he’s not much of a father. I’ve been raised by one of the bosses of the bratva, and the only love I get is from Mama, Vincent, Misha, and Tiana.
Their love is enough for me.
Honestly, it’s more than most people in my position ever get.
Climbing to my feet, I walk to the door and bang on it while shouting, “Some of us need the toilet.”
I bang my fist against the door again, and when I hear footsteps, I move to the other side of the room.
Everleigh quickly gets up and comes to stand next to me, her side pressing against mine.
When the door opens, Prodi’s henchman steps inside.
I tip my head in Everleigh’s direction. “She needs the toilet.” When the man hesitates, I say, “Unless you want us stinking up the place. It’s up to you.”
With his gun drawn, he gestures for us to come, which I take as a good sign that they intend to keep us alive for a while.
The henchman’s shorter than me. I’m pretty confident I could take him, but then I see the other armed soldiers as we walk down the hallway.
I memorize the layout of the building as we pass four shut doors before we reach a restroom with three stalls and sinks. There’s a tiny window that’s been welded shut.
Vincent could be in any of those rooms.
The henchman presses the barrel of his gun to the side of my head and nods toward the stalls. “You have one minute,principessa.”
Everleigh rushes into a stall, and a couple of seconds later, it sounds like a waterfall is unleashed.
When she doesn’t come quick enough out of the stall, the henchman snaps, “Time’s up,principessa.”
Seconds later, the door opens, and Everleigh comes out, her cheeks burning red.
