Chapter 36
thirty-six
Valentina
My head is pounding, and my eyelids feel so heavy. I try to open them, only for them to keep falling. I breathe in, and humidity mixed with the smell of urine and copper enters my nostrils.
Something doesn’t feel right. I try to reach for my eyes with my fingertips, but I can’t. My hands are behind my back. Why are my hands behind my back? I think I’m too tired to move. I move to the side, or so I think, and fall into darkness again.
Why am I dreaming that someone is crying? And who is it? I search for the source of the crying in my head, and I come up empty.
“Stop fighting.” The sound of slapping followed by whimpering pierces my ears.
“This is going to happen if you like it or not.” Another slap.
“Anton wants you broken, so the sooner you accept what’s happening to you, the better.
” Another whimper followed by a menacing voice.
“They never listen, Elvir. You need to make them. Don’t stand there. Come here and learn how it’s done.”
Who is Anton? Where the hell am I? I try not to move as I force steady breaths.
I open my eyes, my eyelids still heavy, but this time, they open slowly.
I’m met with darkness; only a small light somewhere in this room illuminates the space.
I blink a few times to focus and slowly move my hands, which I realize are bound behind my back. My legs are bound too.
“Take it. That’s it.” More whimpers follow, followed by a slap. “Your tight ass is next. Maybe then you'll learn when I say to keep it quiet.”
“Or we should make use of that useless mouth of yours,” the second man says. The zipper opens, followed by a rustle of clothes. “Open wide. Watch the teeth.” The whimpers are replaced with the sound of choking and heavy breaths. The sound of gagging follows. “Don’t you dare vomit, you bitch.”
There’s a tune of skin slapping, gagging, and men groaning, and I let my eyes adapt to the dark. I move my head just an inch toward the sounds, and I see three figures.
I look around the room as much as I can, exploring my surroundings.
A groan pulls my attention back to the figures, followed by another, and more whimpers as one of them tosses a girl to the floor. “I’m done with you. You're useless. You're maybe not broken as much as he needs, but he can do the rest of himself.”
“What about the other girl?”
“That one is gold. She will bring us enough money to up our jobs, not just taking useless homeless people from the street.” A smirk is audible behind his words.
“Is she also for Anton?”
“Maybe. We’ll find out soon enough. I’m keeping her until I get instructions about what to do next.”
How long have I been here? I try to remember, but my mind is blank.
“Instructions? From whom?”
“None of your business. I’m not paying you to question me. Get back to work; we need five more girls for our next job.”
Their voices echo in the room long after they’re gone, swallowed by the whimpers of the girl.
I move another few inches so I can see the rest of the space. My ribs ache, reminding me of the fight I had with Naomi. I remember Gabriel following her and disappearing.
Did he really leave me and go to take care of his old lover?
Maybe he does love her and couldn’t bear me beating her.
But then I remember going to a hotel room where I followed Gabriel’s location.
I try to remember what happened next, but darkness is all I can remember.
Has she drugged me too? She must have, or she had help.
Otherwise, how the hell did I end up here?
Pressure builds behind my eyes as my thoughts spiral, one questions chasing the next one until none of them make sense.
My heart leaps into my throat as panic envelops me. Then I remember that I promised myself never to get in this situation again. I trained with Boris. I can get out of here.
I need my head to be steady. I focus on every inch of my body and the material covering it.
I’m still in my clothes. I close my eyes and thank God for small mercies.
I know I’m not hurt, and I have a way of escaping.
I move my legs; they’re too tight together, my hands too, but I move them, ignoring how the plastic zip ties eat at my skin.
The whimpers have stopped now, so my movement can be heard. Still, I move slowly.
“Please don’t move,” a shaky voice whispers.
“Why?” My voice comes out hoarse.
“He’ll come back. I can’t. Please. Just for a while,” she whimpers.
“How many are there?” I ask, ignoring her plea.
“Two here, but there are another four maybe that I saw when they brought me here.”
“When was that?”
“Maybe a week ago. I’ve lost all track of time; it’s always the same here.”
“Was I here when you came, or did they bring me later?”
“Later.” I close my eyes in relief that I wasn’t brought here that long ago.
So, I might have been here anywhere from a day to a week. Maybe someone is already looking for me. Maybe not. I can’t wait until they have instructions on what to do to me. I need to be prepared.
I wiggle my hands up and down, left and right, opening the gap between my arms a little.
I do the same with my legs, making the ties a little looser, then twist my shoulder and lower my hand down my backside, moving slowly on my back.
I slide my bound hands down my thighs until I hug them under my knees.
I ignore the girl’s pleas to stop and take a deep breath in and out, calming my aching ribs and body.
When I’m calm, I continue. I try to twist my hands so I can pull my legs free, but having my legs bound is making it difficult.
I try one more time, this time completely calm and focused on my movement.
I slide my hand under one foot and take a deep breath before I slide it under the second one.
When my hands are in front of me, I fall onto my back and breathe heavily.
I raise my hands to my jacket and search inside it in my hidden pocket.
I close my eyes and still. I’m not going to cry.
I’m not going to cry. I slowly open my eyes and very carefully pull my blade out of it.
The shiny metal catches the little light in the room.
I place the tip between the tie, and from inside, I pull it out.
A sense of relief overwhelms me when I feel my hands free, and I quickly unbind my legs and place the knife back in my pocket.
“How did you do that?”
“What, free myself? I’ve had a lot of practice.” I slowly walk toward the girl and squat to her and see as much as I can see in the darkness. She's barely conscious. Her lids are heavy, her face bruised and bloodied. “I’m Valentina. You?”
“Linda.”
“How did you end up here, Linda?”
“I ran away from my foster home. I went to look for my mom, but she wasn’t at our last place. So, I ended up on the streets. They took me from the place I was sleeping.” If she's in a foster home, she can’t be more than eighteen. Bastards.
“Listen to me, Linda. I’m going to get us out of here. But I need your help.”
She doesn’t answer, so I gently touch her shoulder. “Can you do something so we can get out of here?”
“I can try.” A hint of enthusiasm appears in her voice.
“Good. Tell me, when do they come here?”
“Usually, a couple of times.”
“When do you think they will be back?”
“Soon.”
“That’s good.”
“Why?”
I smile in the darkness. “Because that means we will be out of here soon.”
“And what do you want me to do?”
“I want you to cry and beg him to let you go. He might hit you, but I need him to be distracted so he can’t hear me coming at him. Can you do that?”
“He said not to beg or cry.” Her voice shakes.
“That doesn’t matter ‘cause we are going to get out.”
“Okay, I’ll try.”
“Good.” I stand to inspect the room. Other than the filthy table, there isn’t anything in here other than a few buckets that I suppose are instead of toilets. The double-locked door is metal and rusty. There are no windows, so it's possible we’re in a basement.
I go back to Linda. “Listen, this is how this will go.”
I explain my plan to her and pray that this works.
Waiting for them to get back for Linda has my stomach in knots. Maybe I shouldn’t have used her as bait, but it’s the only way. This time, when he opens the door, he doesn’t come for her; he comes for me.
I pretend that I’m still bound and unconscious, but that doesn’t prevent him from kicking me in the gut. I hold my hands and legs tight and groan in pain.
“Wake up, bitch. The dose wasn’t that strong for you to stay under for so long.
If it were up to me, I would have already taken care of you.
” I open my eyes and look at the sweaty man.
“Pretending won’t save you,” he spits. I clench my jaw, preventing myself from acting.
“He is coming for you soon, and I will have my money.”
Linda’s cries distract him from me before he can say anything else. She cries even more, followed by whimpers.
Good girl. Distraction.
He stands and walks over to her. “I told you to be quiet. No crying.” He grabs her arms and picks her up like a rag doll.
She cries harder. “Please, don’t.”
I stand slowly; that's my cue. I pull the knives from my pocket and slowly walk to where he drops Linda on the dirty table. He backhands her once. Twice. She whimpers. “You want me to fuck your tight hole, don’t you? That’s how you will be quiet!”
He flips her onto her stomach and pulls her dirty dress over her hips, exposing her lower body.
He reaches for his zipper and lowers his pants.
“Let me show your new friend what will happen to her.” He spits on his flimsy dick and reaches for her backside.
In that moment, I launch at him, sticking one of my knives in his neck.
Blood spills from it while he gurgles on his own blood. I pull my knife from him, his hand reaching to his wound. He stumbles and falls to the floor, his eyes wide as he watches me approach him.