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I picture my hair coming out in chunks, my thrashing and screaming making the pain worse, and yet I don’t surrender.
I can’t expect anyone to help me. I have to look out for myself.
Then, all at once, the agony ceases. The tugging, the suffering, and especially my screaming come to a complete halt, not because the pain is over, but because the breath is knocked out of me. I’ve been dropped onto the hard asphalt below, which I crash into like a deadweight, scraping the shit out of one of my shoulders. While my scalp still burns, the worst of it has subsided. I am now lying in a crumpled pile of my own limbs, my face pressing into the gritty, rocky parking lot surface.
Blinking, I look up and the first face I see is Dimitri’s, his eyes narrowing like a serpent’s about to dig its fangs into its prey. Should I reach for him? Can I add fuel to this already-burning fire.
But Niko is at my side, hoisting me up and giving me time to catch my both my breath and my balance.
When I am finally steady on my feet, he still doesn’t let me go. The urge to burrow into him, to slide under one of his arms and pull it the rest of the way around my shoulder, is strong, but so is the itch to grab the pistol from the waistband of his trousers and make all of them suffer.
But I do neither. One, I don’t show my need for comfort because I don’t want Dimitri to know he can get to me, and two, I don’t shoot anyone because I know I’ll end up dead too.
“And there she is, the lovely Charleigh. Tell me, darling,” Dimitri croons, “how is your papa? And your little sister, Evie?”
Niko’s grip tightens around me. He knows how I will react to such a comment. And, obviously, so does Dimitri.
I force my expression to stay neutral, but a burning that begins in my stomach makes its way to my throat, grinding on my insides like sharp pieces of glass. I couldn’t speak if I wanted to. I can barely breathe as it is.
The bastards.
“You’re okay now,” Niko whispers in my ear, and the urge to throw my arms around him has never been stronger.
“I’ll tell you what, gentlemen,” Dimitri says expansively. “I’ll overlook your accusation that I have something to do with your little shipmentproblem, if I may have this this lovely lady here at my disposal.”
My voice returns. “I… I am being auctioned next weekend,” I blurt, hoping this might deflate some of the tension in the air.
I should have stayed in the car. Actually, I should have stayed at the club.
Dimitri grins, showing off a gold tooth in the side of his mouth. “That’s right,” he says, tapping his temple. “Next weekend is the auction. How fun that will be.”
My stomach flips again at the thought of his hands on me. I am not sure which is worse—him or Alexei.
They’re equally repulsive in their own ways. But I force a little smile for him, anyway. I need allies and there’s no telling where they’ll come from.
Vadik takes a step toward Dimitri. “You will never have the chance to bid on this girl. Never.”
Screeching tires distract us all, and when everyone turns toward the source, I have to fight the impulse to run. First there’s nowhere to go, and second, I have no doubt all these men are armed, and I probably won’t get ten feet away without a bullet in my back.
A car stops next to the SUV, and two men in dark suits and sunglasses hop out and survey the scene. Then, one of them leans back into the car and says something quietly, I am pretty sure in Russian, to someone inside. A third man steps out, buttons his jacket, and nods in our direction.
I look at Niko. “Who is he?” I whisper.
Niko straightens his back. “ThePakhan.”
* * *
CHAPTERFIFTY-FIVE
Charleigh
Pakhan. From what I can tell, he’s some sort of boss. Or mediator. Or maybe a combination of the two.
“Gentlemen,” he says, a grave expression on his creased face.
He throws me a disinterested, cursory glance, most likely because of the state of my clothing—or should I say, lack of? To him, I’m just some bimbo club employee.
Not the cause of any problems. More a symptom of them.
