Page 4 of Sinful Promise


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Peter tosses me into an apartment on the far side of town, opposite the coast, tucked back into a quiet touristy neighborhood.

“Stay here,” he says the morning after we arrive. “Don’t go anywhere while I’m gone.” He stands in the main hallway and adjusts his cuffs as he looks at himself in the mirror. I want to tell him he looks terrible, but that wouldn’t be true. Peter’s got the tall, dark, and handsome thing down to a science, and the tattoos only intensify the attraction. If only he weren’t such a monstrous asshole.

“And where are you going?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“You can’t drag me all over Greece without telling me what you’re doing.”

“You’re here to rest and stay alive. Beyond that, I don’t care how bored you get. Stay inside.” He looks at me with that ugly glare. “And please don’t make trouble.”

I smile at him in return and cross my legs. I like the way he glances down at my thighs and back up again, even if his expression doesn’t change. “Why ever would I do that?”

“You’re trouble, Adrienne. I don’t know why but it’s like trouble is baked into who you are.” He grunts and heads to the door. “I’ll be back in a few hours.” With that, he’s gone.

Leaving me alone in his apartment.

The first thing I do is snoop.

There’s the barest hint that anyone lived in this place. Change in a drawer. Old Greek Tylenol in the medicine cabinet. I think about going through Peter’s bags but decide against it.

I feel more lost and adrift than I ever have before.

I had a life back home. A job, friends, an apartment, a future. It wasn’t much, but it was mine, all built by my hands, all resting on a foundation of choices I made for myself.

All of that disappeared the moment I was taken, beaten, and locked in a basement to die.

Some days, when I’m not at my best, I blame Kacia for what happened. Sometimes I’m angry with her for getting me involved, but I know none of that was her fault—her only crime was being my friend. The Russian mafia wanted to use me against her, and by extension, they wanted to use her against her boyfriend, Luca. She risked her life and nearly died saving mine. Every time I find myself blaming her, guilt takes over and I shove that ugly feeling away.

I’m not perfect, but I’m trying.

I quit my job. I told my friends I was going on vacation. I haven’t said anything to my landlord yet but I’ll have to if I can’t pay my rent in a couple months.

Everything I am and was is disappearing and I don’t know how to get it all back.

I last two hours in the apartment before I take out the card Katarin handed me the other night at the party and dial her number.

“Parakalo?” she says answering on the third ring.

“Uh, hello, this is Adrienne Holloway, I’m calling for Katarin, we met at a party a couple days ago, and—”

“Adrienne,” Katarin says, her voice sounding silky smooth and pleased. “I didn’t expect you to call so soon.”

“I didn’t expect to call, but I find myself in Athens and I don’t really know anybody or anything about the city, and I guess—” I take a deep breath and let it out. “If you weren’t busy, I was wondering what you were doing for lunch?”

“I’m taking you to my favorite little restaurant, that’s what I’m doing.” She laughs, low and throaty. “You’re lucky I’m in Athens today. Poor thing, did Peter toss you in his little rat’s nest and go scurrying off?”

“More or less, yeah, actually.”

“Don’t worry. I can take care of you. Now, let’s find the address of where you’re staying and I’ll send a car.”

Three hours later, I’m sitting in the back of a black sedan as a quiet and intense older gentleman navigates the crowded and tight Athens streets. He says nothing and I’m too busy staring out the window to bother him. I’ve traveled a bit around America, but I’ve never been to Greece before, much less to a city like Athens. It’s beautiful: there are plants everywhere, lots of green and blue and marble and pretty patterns, and even the rundown alleys are gorgeous. The driver pulls over outside of a small cafe and looks at me in the rearview mirror, which I take as my sign to get out.

It’s hot, but not overwhelming. I’m in jeans and a shirt with big sunglasses in a weak attempt at hiding my beat-up face. Nobody stares at me though as I pick my way through a crowd and spot Katarin sitting alone at a table beneath a blue and white awning, drinking coffee and smoking a cigarette. She lights up as I approach and stands to kiss both my cheeks.

“You made it,” she says. “I didn’t think Paulo would find you, but here you are. Athens is a lovely city but it’s one of the leastplannedplaces in the world. You can’t find anything unless you know where it is.”

“It’s beautiful though. I’m so used to LA where everything’s all spread out, but this place? It’s amazing.”

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