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Her voice slurs as she struggles to form words. Then her body buckles and she flips over, gagging and heaving on the floor next to her.
“We need to get the hell out of here.” Niall grabs me by the back of my shirt. “There may be other girls here. The guys who are running this place will eventually make their way down here. Let’s call Conor. Maybe he can tell us what to do.”
I shake off his hand. “Conor is probably high on Christ only knows what and fucking some girl up the ass right now. He won’t give a flying fuck that we’re in the middle of this hell.”
“Hell, yeah that sounds right. Let’s get out of it before we’re the next ones to die.”
“That sounds like a good plan,” a deep voice grunts from behind us.
Niall turns and shoots, but another guy charges him and knocks him to the ground. I grab for my gun because like a complete fucking moron, I didn’t have it in my hand already.
“Watch out,” Niall yells to me, struggling against the guy on top of him.
I turn… too late.
The barrel of a gun slams into my temple. I fall forward onto the girl.
A second guy tugs a chunk of my hair and yanks me toward him. He growls into my ear, spit wetting my skin. My stomach roils from the stink of stale cigarette smoke on his breath.
“You’re gonna be real sorry you tried to be a hero, you little prick.”
Chapter3
Valentina
Idrag in a sharp breath before shifting on the mattress to ease the ache in my gut. Blinking fast, I clear the cobwebs from my eyes. The stench of vomit and sweat makes my stomach wrench. A gunshot cracks, and I clutch the edge to steady myself.
Slowly, I turn my head. Four guys battle in front of where I lay, punching, kicking, bleeding. My pulse picks up speed, alarm bells faintly ring in the depths of my mind.
Charly. The black truck.The man who knew my name.
A hand grasps my shoulder, and I force my body to roll over. Charly’s blond hair is matted to her face, her blue eyes filled with tears. She holds out her hand, reaching for mine.
“Val, please help me. Helpus.”
I stretch out my arm, my fingers lacing with the air as her hand disappears from my sight. I drop my gaze to her face. Her pale, lifeless face.
A strangled cry escapes my dry lips.
More gunshots ring out. Bodies drop to the floor.
I struggle to sit up but my head feels like a cement block and it refuses to peel away from the mattress. I manage to flip myself over. Squinting in the dim light, I can make out the shapes of a few more girls on mattresses scattered around the floor. I clutch my throat, my body buckling as another round of dry heaving assaults me. I kick out my legs and pull myself to a kneeling position.
I have to get help. I have to save us both.
Charly’s hand is so cold. She doesn’t respond when I tug it. “Charly, please. Wake up.”
But she doesn’t make a move. Her eyes don’t flutter, her lips don’t quiver.
She’s as still as a…
No. Justno.
“Don’t fight, Valentina.”
The man’s voice loops through my mind, droning on like a broken record.
I gasp for air like my lungs are caught in a vise that keeps cranking tighter and tighter. Clawing at the wall next to me for balance, I struggle to my feet, barely making it to my knees before they buckle and I crash back down to the floor.
