Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
My steps would be heavier if I hadn’t snuck the bread knife off the table. It fills me with even more power than a room with a lock. It makes me feel alive for the first time in over a week.
It can’t issue Kirill the same guarantee.
49
KATIE
The last half of our voyage was long but thankfully uneventful. Kirill wants a wife, but only in title. He walked me to my room, which stabbed my heart a million times, but proved some of Anastasia’s theories were right. This stage of my captivity was as much about Ghost as it was me.
Kirill wants to taunt me.
I won’t give him the satisfaction.
My fear is not his to barter with.
Even if it is the only thing of value I have, I own it.
I think I celebrated a birthday a couple of days ago, but don’t quote me on that. The calendar in Ghost’s cabin was several years old, and one day is constantly melding into the next at the moment. I was free to roam the ship as I wanted, but since the women in the orlop only had Vera and me looking out for them, I couldn’t grieve by curling up like a cat in the circular window in my room and sobbing until my body ran dry of fluids.
I cooked for Kirill and his men, purposely making double the amount needed so there were plenty of leftovers, then tried to sleep away my grief.
It didn’t work.
I am so tired it takes me several long moments to recognize my surroundings. I’m not sure how I forgot it. My father brought me here multiple times in the summers before my kidnap, and it’s hardly changed since Alek walked me onto the cargo ship over four and a half years ago.
When I huff, Watermelon Head murmurs, “It is easier to hide in plain sight than start a new identity in a new town. People are accustomed to seeking things out of the ordinary. If it fits in, you don’t give it a second glance.”
I roll my eyes at his snooty tone. I’ve been obeying as taught for the women in the orlop, but I have no incentive now they’ve been bundled into the SUVs surrounding us. “If you’re stupid enough to bring me to a town that borders my hometown, I doubt you’re smart enough to realize I’ll be recognized.”
My stomach gurgles when he replies with a grin, “Maybe that’s the point.”
Thick, hot blood filters through my veins when our SUV is stopped for an immigration check by a local department. I realize the surge of adrenaline it arrived with could have been saved for a better use when the quickest exchange of funds has our fleet pushed through customs without a single officer peering into my SUV.
I’ve changed a lot in the past almost nine years, but they would have aged my kidnap fliers, surely.
Watermelon Head is a wealth of information today. “Over half of Hopeton PD are on the mafia’s payroll. It’s why we dock here.”
“It is also where I saw you for the first time.” Kirill has been so quiet I didn’t realize he slipped into the same SUV as me. “Fire-red hair, untouched skin, and attitude in abundance.” His haughty smile gleams off the windshield. “I should have taken you then, but Ghost said you were too young. That you’d be dead within a year of being put in the trade.” He cranks his neck back so he can witness my disgusted expression without hindrance when he snickers. “You proved him wrong, didn’t you?” He doesn’t wait for me to answer before exposing I would have ended up in this exact predicament no matter the decision I made the day I was barely fourteen. “Sergei was meant to bring you to the docks, but he let Colum Petretti whittle in his head.” He drags his eyes down my body. “I found you, though. Eventually.”
“You didn’t find me,” I fire back before I can stop myself. “They lured you to me because even they know you’re too pathetic to find a woman willing to procreate with you the God-given way.” He launches for me, his grip on my dress firm enough to pop threads, but it doesn’t stop my vicious tongue. “You’re not a god. You’re a limp dick fraud—” He ends my rant by backhanding me so fiercely my brain rattles against my skull, and several teeth loosen.
Regretfully, that is only the start of the retaliation. Guns are drawn, words are exchanged, and a weapon is jabbed into my stomach. “Do it,” I mock with a blood-stained grin. “Kill the child you so desperately want.”
When my rile has the gun digging in so deep it brings a whimper to the base of my throat, Kirill growls out, “You even think about it, and I will blow your fucking brains out all over your ugly shirt.”