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My hand shakes, the tip of the knife driving deeper into the flesh of our enemy.
“Save my girl,” Maria whimpers.
I could cut her jugular right now, just drag the gleaming serrated edge across her gold-chain decorated neck until the life drains from her body.
“Bring them to the basement.” Luis pulls Quinn off the floor and shoves him toward the men who gathered in the doorway with what look like AR-15 rifles.
The basement.
The number on June’s arm indicates she was one of many girls tagged. The rest of them are here, in the underbelly of this craphole they call a restaurant. I choke on a sob. Are all of them still alive?
Luis yanks me to my feet. “Drop the knife or I will shoot a bullet through your hand.”
I release my fingers from the handle. The stainless steel blade clatters when it hits the floor.
“Maria,” Luis says, helping Sofia’s daughter off the floor. “Take care of Marisol. I will handle these two.”
Maria drops to her knees, praying in Spanish over Marisol’s body. My heart spits in two as fresh tears stream down Maria’s face. Another life taken senselessly.
Luis shoves me toward the stone steps. I stumble into Quinn’s back, grabbing his shirt for balance. I fist the soft cotton, pulling myself to my feet.
“Back pocket,” he hisses through his lips.
I make a big showing of tripping over my feet, this time hanging on to the back of his jeans. When I grasp what he’s talking about, I swallow a groan. A Swiss Army knife? Is he fucking kidding me?
Luis steadies me, his heavy breaths directed at my face and making my stomach roil with nausea. “It’d be a shame for you to break your pretty little neck now before we have the chance to chop it off.”
“You fucking sicko.” My shoulders shake with anger. “Where are you taking us?”
His lips curl upward, exposing crooked, yellowed teeth. “You asked for something.” He presses himself against me, his thick, chapped lips scratching the side of my face, the stench of his breath revolting. “And I’m about to give it to you.”
I jerk away from him and grab on to the rickety wooden banister along the cracked yellow stucco wall. The deeper into the pits of hell we descend, the stronger the smell of body odor and rotting trash becomes. A strangled cry escapes my lips when we reach the bottom step. The hallway is long and straight, the floor dirty. Girls with tattered clothes and stringy hair line either side. Most of them are glassy-eyed, pale, and listless. Some of them are completely still, eyes closed, traces of vomit crusting the sides of their mouths.
“You fucking monsters,” Quinn yells, suddenly hurling his fist at the jaw of one of the guys next to him. Two other guys pull him off before he can land another punch. They tackle him to the ground and pound their guns against his face and nose.
“Stop,” I yell, darting toward them. Luis pulls me back and holds me by both arms. His fingers dig into my skin.
“Mulligan made his bed,” he hisses. “And unless you wanna end up in the same one, I suggest you stand the fuck back.”
A door flies open behind me. It crashes against the wall. Footsteps follow. I try to twist out of Luis’s grip to get a look, but he forces me to keep my eyes on Quinn being beaten. Sobs tear my chest open. “Please, stop.”
“Enough! Get away from him now.”
It’s a commanding voice. Russian accent. Familiar, but at the same time, not.
The hairs on back of my neck prickle.
The men move away from Quinn. He moans, clutching his injured side. Fuck, his stitches. Those savages must have torn them right open. His face is already purple and blue, his nose bloody, right eye swollen.
The Swiss Army knife is still in my clenched hand. My blood bubbles. How the hell can I get it open so that I can impale someone with it before I get shot in the head?
Splintered plans assault my frenzied mind when he speaks again. This time, he stops right in front of me. I stare into blue eyes that scream death, darkness, and devastation. His face is unlike the rest. This man is handsome, groomed, and clearly wealthy.
His lips lift.
The Devil himself smiles at me.
“Valentina Malikov.” He steps forward, the spicy scent of his expensive cologne choking me like an invisible noose. “After all these years, you finally found me. And I think we’ve both waited long enough for what you know comes next.”
