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“No!” that woman screams, staring over me with wide, horrified eyes.
I don't know what happens, but I feel a heavy whack to the back of my head and I think I faint.
———
“Charlie warned you not to hurt her,” is the next thing I hear. “He warned us all with death threats, so what the hell are you playing at, Maksim-Markov?”
Maksim's here.
That's enough to knock me out cold again.
For hours I float in and out of perception, sweating my ass off, my heart hammering nineteen to the dozen.
When I can open my eyes again, I find I'm in the same state. I'm loosely aware that I'm in Rumo's snooker room, slumped in a chair. It's the smell of mucky cigar smoke that gives my location away. No other place on this earth smells like this snooker room.
There's something cold on my head—a flannel?
“Where are you going to take her?” Rumo says. I only assume it's Rumo because I'm in his house.
“It's best that you don't know, my friend.”
Maksim...
Maksim is here.
My heart is already racing through my ribcage, so it cannot possibly go any faster without forcing me into cardiac arrest.
There's someone else in the room too, saying something in Spanish. Carl?
“Speak English,” Maksim snaps. “I can't fucking understand Spanish!”
“Why are her hands and feet covered in cuts?”
Maksim laughs like he's proud. “I had nothing to tie her down with, so I scattered glass across the floor to prevent her from escaping. Though, it seems shattered glass is no match for my little pet.”
They talk about me for a while. Carl wants to know why I'm in such a state. “What did she do to reap your wrath like this?”
I study the voices, trying to regain my strength so I can get out of here. I can't go back to Maksim. He'll make me suffer gradually and painfully, until I die. I know he wants me to die. I want to die too after all the pain but not like this, and not before I see Charlie once more. I have to see him. And I have to know James is okay!
When the voices leave the room, I stumble off the chair, landing on gory hands. The room is whirling and the back of my head is throbbing like a bitch. I cup my face in one hand, straining to my feet. I sway, the soles of my feet tender and shredded to pieces.
Using the snooker table for support, I make my way out of the room, blinking rapidly to steady my vision.
In the welcome hall, I hear voices by the front doors; Maksim and Rumo.
“I'll pull up your car,” Rumo says, “but that's it, Maksim-Markov. I'm not getting in any deeper. I'm not going to be a part of Blaire's death.”
I can quite honestly say that in all my life, I've never felt so hurt by someone's words—Maksim really does want me dead.
“I understand, my friend,” Maksim drawls. “I just want to thank you for bringing her back to me. I owe you.”
“I don't suppose I can talk you into giving or selling her to me?” I think Carl says.
Maksim laughs his head off, his voice echoing. “I want her death. Not money. I have enough of that now I have Decena's cash. Pull up my car, Rumo. I need to go.”
Panic races through me. I've not got long. If Rumo is pulling up the car that means Maksim intends to leave now.
Pushing open a set of doors, I struggle into a room I've never seen before.
