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As he dragged me towards the cabin, I glanced around, trying to get a better view of my surroundings. There were no obvious neighbours I could run to for help if I managed to escape. I hoped to spot a small boat tied up to the jetty, but if there was one that came with the property, it was in a dry dock somewhere. Getting away across the lake would have been a good option. It wasn’t as though he’d have been able to catch up to me if he swam.
We reached the front door, and he threw me inside and followed after. He locked the door behind us—this was clearly the kind of door that was more commonly found in Europe, where it needed to be physically locked from the inside—and slipped the key into the inside pocket of his jacket.
“The door is locked. There is no way out of here, and no one else is nearby. Trying to escape would be pointless.”
I didn’t care what he said. I was still going to try.
The interior of the cabin was stunning. The large windows let in a ton of light, and an open-plan layout made the place feel huge. Natural wood lined the walls, and a darker wood made up the floor. In one corner was a kitchen with granite worktops, and at the farthest point of the cabin was a modern cylindrical wood-burning fire.
He put his hand out to my face, and I flinched, thinking he was going to hit me.
“Relax,” he growled.
He hooked his finger beneath the gag and pulled it down, so it went from being tight between my lips to hanging around my neck like a piece of really shitty jewellery.
The relief at no longer wearing it was overwhelming, and I ducked my head to my shoulder, pressing the corner of my mouth there to try to relieve some of the soreness. My eyes slipped shut, and I worked my jaw, trying to make the tension subside.
“Water,” I said in English. “Can I have some water?”
My mouth felt terrible, and my throat hurt from where he’d strangled me. He paused for a moment, as though he considered refusing, but then he gave a curt nod. He walked over to the kitchen and opened a couple of the cupboards. He came across the one containing the glasses and picked one out.
I took in every detail, searching for things I could use as a weapon. If he gave me the glass, I could smash it over his head.
Unaware of my thoughts, he went to the sink, ran the tap for a minute to allow any stale water to flow through the pipes, and then filled the glass. He carried it back to me.
“If you untie my hands, I can drink it myself.”
He smirked. “Not going to happen.”
He held the glass to my lips, and I gulped thirstily. The cool liquid flowed like silk over my tongue and down my throat, easing the pain and slaking my thirst. I drained the whole thing, and he took the glass away again.
“What do you want from me?” I dared to ask.
“Your father took something from me, and now I’ve taken something from him.”
“I’m not a thing.”
He shrugged. “Makes no difference to me.”
“He’s not going to let you get away with this. He owns half this country and the people in it. He’ll track you down and kill you.”
“Not if we’re not in the country, he won’t.”
“You’re planning to take me out of Estonia?”
“If I can.”
He turned away from me and went back to the kitchen, going through the cupboards and opening the fridge.
He straightened and ran his hand through his hair. “Fuck, nothing.”
“Hungry?” I said, taking pleasure in his discomfort. “You can’t get takeaway out here.”
He threw me a scowl over his shoulder. “I guessed as much. I’m going to need to find a shop.”
“I assume I’ll be staying here?”
He gave a cold laugh. “Not like this, you won’t. After your little kicking episode, you’ve proved I can’t trust you.”
