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“What?” I stand straighter and face off with him. I don’t hide as everything starts to clear up in my mind. “Are you saying you aren’t my full brother and that your father isn’t mine?” I yell, and he smacks me so hard I fly back. My head hits the corner of the counter and I lose consciousness.
When I come to, I’m in a room I don’t recognize, lying on a mattress on the floor. The room is dark, and I feel wetness along my scalp. I push myself up and waves of nausea wash through me. I’ve had many concussions through the years to know I have one now. I stand up on shaky legs and find the door, but it won’t budge. The knob doesn’t turn. I pull and yank, and nothing. I feel around the surface and realize the door is made of metal. I slide to the cement floor. It’s cold and wet in the room. I don’t know where I am, and I’m scared.
“Brett, I need to use the restroom,” I yell, but I get no response. I stand back up and move my hands across the walls, looking for anything. I come across a switch and flip it. Light flickers on, illuminating an industrial room. There is nothing but the mattress and a bucket.
I’m a prisoner.
“Brett,” I scream, and the door is finally opened.
“You’ll use that as your bathroom.” He points at the bucket. “Here is water to clean yourself up. I’ll be back with food in the morning.” He drops a second bucket on the floor along with a towel and washcloth.
I rush toward him, trying to get out, but my legs are still wobbly from the blow to my head. The heavy door slams shut, and the ominous click of the locks are the only sounds that break the silence. I fall to my knees and sob as the waves of nausea wash over me. I crawl to the bucket, where I proceed to throw up until I’m dry heaving.
I collapse on the cold cement floor, weak and exhausted from retching. I hear scurrying around me and scream as I shoot to my feet. The quick elevation change causes my head to swim, and I bite my tongue to keep from retching again. I look around in the light but don’t see anything. After a few moments, I proceed to clean myself up in the bucket of water. Dried blood is caking into my hair, and I clean it as best as possible.
I don’t know how long I’ll be in here, so I try to make the best out of the situation by moving the mattress from against the wall to the middle of the room where I can keep an eye out for rats and scorpions. I wish I had left him sooner. I should have asked Andrei to take me when we first met or even when I saw him last night. I know it’s a new day because I saw the sun shining from somewhere when Brett opened the door.
I think back over the words he said about our mother. It’s something I’ve wondered about from time to time because I don’t look like my brother or father. I have a lot of my mother’s features, but my green eyes are different. Who is my real father? Where is he? I sit cross-legged on the mattress and pull the locket out of my shirt. I’m glad I’ve kept it hidden from Brett. He would’ve stolen it or pawned it, like he’s done with so much of my things. Something scratchy in my bra grabs my attention. I slip my hand in to find Andrei’s business card. If I can somehow get out of this, I can call him, and he can help me.
I try to hold on to the hope that if I don’t show up at the shelter tomorrow, Lennon will come looking for me. Andrei will too. But I don’t know where I am. How will they find me? I curl up into a small ball on the mattress and let my eyes drift closed. I set the bucket of dirty water against the door to alert me if someone comes in while I’m sleeping. It’s a trick I learned after the first time Brett snuck into my room. I’ve booby-trapped my doorway ever since.
* * *
Andrei
I’m staring at my monitor and don’t see any new pictures of Sparrow. All day there has been nothing. I stand from my chair so fast it slams into the wall behind me. I storm out of my office to the main hall area where my assistant sits and the doors for Mikhail’s and Dmitri’s offices are located.
“Mik, where is today’s footage?” I barge into his office. He looks at his computer, unfazed by my attitude.
“I’ll ask the guards,” he says as he clicks a few buttons before he picks up his cell phone and dials a number. “Where is today’s footage?” he asks the person on the other end, and I start pacing. My gut is clenching hard, and I feel like I’m having a heart attack. Something isn’t right. I can feel it in my bones. “She hasn’t? Go check the apartment,” he orders.
Ever since I found out her landlord propositioned her, I’ve had him under surveillance too. After I paid her rent, I had my guys rough him up for touching what is mine. He gave us a key to the apartment, a duplicate she didn’t know he had. He was told if he ever went near her again, the buzzards and coyotes would be the last things he saw.
“What do you mean it’s cleared out? How could they get past you? You better hope you can find her, or you’ll be paying for it from the boss.” Mikhail drops his phone on the desk hard with a Russian curse and looks over at me. The look in his eyes tells me all I know. I pick up the closest thing to my hand, a small lamp, and chuck it at the wall. It explodes in a burst of glass across the room.
“Where is she?” I demand as I move toward Mikhail. I’m rearing back to punch him when Dmitri rushes into the room. He grabs me from behind and holds me back. “You fucking lost her. You’d better find her, or you will be gone.” I threaten him and he nods. Dmitri releases me, and I can tell my words have left the room in an uncertain atmosphere.
“She means that much to you?” Dmitri asks.
I swing around and take him in before I turn back to Mikhail. “She is everything. I will make her my wife. Fill her with my cum until she has my baby. She will be my queen.”
“I’m sorry for ever doubting you,” Mikhail says and nods at me. “I’ll find her.”
“Please,” I say softly as I move from the room back to my office. I don’t beg, but for her I will. I feel someone following me, but I don’t stop until I get to my computer, where I can see her images from yesterday. Was it just last night that I had her in my arms?
“I know how McCall got the money. It could be where she is.” Dmitri’s voice breaks me from my thoughts. I look up to see Mikhail followed us in too.
“Who?” Mikhail demands.
“MacEvoy,” Dmitri says. I reach for the office phone and dial his number.
“Morosov,” he answers, his slight Irish accent comes across the line.
“MacEvoy.” I pause to get control of my emotions before he realizes how much Sparrow means to me. “I understand you fronted McCall for the game.”
“I did.”
I have him on speaker so the others can hear our conversation. I look over as Mikhail starts typing quickly on his laptop.
