Chapter 6 – EMMA
EMMA
Smiling, I snuggle deeper into my bed.
I’m so warm. That’s the first thing I notice. Cozy and comfortable in a way I haven’t been since... I can’t even remember. There’s something solid beneath my cheek, and I’m nuzzling into it. Breathing in the comforting smell, my body completely relaxes and my mind calms.
Safe.
For a few blissful seconds, I’m nowhere. No debt, no gangsters in my kitchen, no deadlines. Just this.
Then, oh-so-slowly, awareness creeps in and tears me from my peaceful, dreamlike state. The leather seat beneath me is cold against the back of my shoulder.
There’s a low hum of an engine, the rumble of tires over asphalt and the faint glow of lights through my closed eyelids. More jarring than anything else is the steady rise and fall of the solid warmth I’m pressed against.
My eyes fly open.
I’m curled up beside Bodhi, my head half on his shoulder, half on his chest, and my hand is resting possessively on his thigh. High up on his thigh. So high, I think my pinky might be grazing something thick and hard every time I stroke his leg.
My knee is resting on top of his, that’s how far I’ve wrapped myself around him, and there’s a small damp patch on his dark shirt where my mouth was.
I drooled on him. I drooled all over one of my big, scary kidnappers, as I pet him like a dog, or a date I fell asleep draped over while watching movies.
Jerking upright so fast my head spins, my cheeks flame, and I pull back, putting as much distance between us as the backseat allows, which isn’t much, given how broad Bodhi is.
My shoulder hits the cold window, jarring me after being cocooned in his heat, but I press against it anyway, needing the chill to bring me back to my senses.
“I—” The word catches in my throat. What am I supposed to say? Sorry? To the man who’s helping Kozlov sell me into slavery? I don’t think so.
Instead, I smooth out my dress carefully and put my feet back on the floor of the car where they belong before straightening my spine and pretending to still have my pride.
“You could have moved me.” It comes out sharper than I meant, almost accusatory, like somehow it’s his fault I tried to use him as a body pillow and was on the verge of climbing into his lap and straddling him.
He’s watching me with an expression I can’t read, carefully blank, and yet I could lose myself in the depths of his soulful brown eyes. It bothers me more than it should.
“You needed the rest.”
His dark eyes track my movements silently as I wipe at the corner of my mouth with the back of my hand, trying to salvage some dignity. No mockery of my weakness or lack of survival skills. Just four kind words, delivered in that low rumble of a voice, and I don’t know what to do with that.
There’s something in his eyes right now that doesn’t quite fit with the cold mercenary act.
I turn away from him, confusion and irritation warring in my chest.
Through the window, a huge house looms beyond a set of wrought-iron gates, all sharp angles and dark stone set amongst perfectly manicured lawns. It’s isolated and imposing, meant to signal wealth and stature, but to me, it’s really just a prison dressed up as a palace.
The partition slides down, and the driver glances back at us, his scarred face impassive in the rearview mirror. “Welcome to Kozlov’s humble abode. Your new home. Until Saturday, at least.”
The partition rises again before I can respond, and his words echo in my mind.
Saturday.
I frown, narrowing my eyes at Bodhi. Something is nagging at me. Some detail I should have caught before, but was too exhausted to piece together.
The apprehension in Bodhi’s eyes tells me he knows I’ve missed something too.
Jake has until Sunday. That’s what Kozlov told him at my apartment, his stern voice dripping with false generosity. One week from the night they took me to come up with the money, that’s what he said.
But the auction is on Saturday.
The realization is sudden and devastating, driving all the air from my lungs as I grasp what I should have suspected all along.
Even if Jake gets the money, even if he sells everything he owns, begs, borrows, steals, and he shows up Sunday morning with a briefcase full of cash, I’ll already be gone.
I turn to Bodhi, my fingers curling into the leather seat so hard that my knuckles ache. “The auction is Saturday.”
Something shifts in his expression, and just for a second, his mask slips.
I’m right. He already knew.
“I’m never going home. No matter what.” My heart pounds, my hands growing clammy.
The second Kozlov piled me into his car; I was already a dead woman. A dead woman walking. Whoever buys me isn’t going to let me go home, and apparently, I’m worth enough to Kozlov in this auction that he’s not even concerned about my brother’s debt.
It’s a lose-lose.
“Emma, stay calm.” He reaches toward me and I flinch back, my spine hitting the door.
“That’s easy for you to say.” I snap, closing my eyes, fighting back panic.
“He was never going to let me leave.” Despite being on the verge of puking, I keep my voice flat and calm, because if I let myself feel any of it, I’ll shatter into a thousand pieces right here in this backseat.
“Even if Jake gets the money, it won’t change anything. I’ll already be gone. And you knew.”
He doesn’t deny it. Bodhi’s hands curl into fists on his thighs, his knuckles turning white, and a muscle jumps in his jaw. Of course he knew. That’s his job.
“So, I’m screwed whatever happens.” An icy numbness flows through my veins as the stark reality of the situation becomes crystal clear.
Unblinking, I hold Bodhi’s gaze. The anxiety that had me in its grip just a minute before has melted away, replaced by resignation.
This is it. I’m never getting out.
“Don’t do anything stupid.” Bodhi drags in a deep breath, looking to the roof of the car and steadying himself. When he finally looks at me, his eyes glint and reflect the light. “Kozlov is dangerous but there’s still time.”
My eyebrows shoot up to my hairline, scarcely believing he’s trying to convince me there could be a way out for me.
He doesn’t want trouble. Doesn’t want me to be a crying mess, pleading for mercy, or trying to escape.
“Time for what?” The laugh that escapes me sounds wrong. Hollow and brittle, it echoes off the tinted windows.
He says nothing, just stares at me, looking torn.
Annoyance flares up inside me. He’s just pissed off that I figured it out.
“You know what I’ve decided?” I shift to face him fully, tucking one leg beneath me on the leather seat.
My voice comes out steady and scarily decisive.
“I’d rather die than be handed over to some pervert who paid for the privilege of my virginity.
” My voice cracks, but I push through, forcing the words past the tightness in my throat.
“Using me until he decides he’s had his fun. ”
The words hang between us, ominous and terrifying.
“I won’t give them what they want,” I whisper.
Bodhi’s whole body goes rigid and his hands slide down his thighs just a couple of inches, dragging hard over the stiff denim before he balls them tighter.
Surprise flickers in his eyes, quickly followed, not by irritation with my fighting words, but by concern.
“Don’t.” His voice comes out rough, and there’s a slight shake of his head. “Don’t say that.”
“Why do you care?” For some reason, I really want to know. Why is he even pretending to care? “Will you lose your bonus if your precious hostage doesn’t survive until Saturday?”
Silence clogs the space between us, thick and suffocating. His eyes meet mine, dark and intense, and I see something there that doesn’t fit.
It looks almost like pain. But before I can pinpoint it, it’s gone, and his expression is stone again.
“See, you don’t really give a shit,” I say flatly, turning to face the front. “You just want me to stay meek and compliant.”
He doesn’t argue.
Right. Of course.
The car finally rolls to a stop, gravel crunching beneath the tires.
Through the windshield, I see another guard waiting at the main entrance, a hand resting on the pistol at his hip like he’s expecting a fight.
The driver cuts the engine and turns around, grinning, chin tipped toward the palatial estate outside.
“It’s really something, isn’t it?”
I haven’t moved, still pressed against my door. I might not trust Bodhi, but I hate the idea of getting out and going in there even more. At least in this car, there’s the illusion of safety and some level of freedom. In there, surrounded by armed guards and miles of dark forest, there’s nothing.
The driver gets out and calls to the guard over the roof of the car. “Piotr. Got a special delivery for you.”
Piotr’s eyes light up as he jogs down the steps, his eager expression making my stomach turn. When he sees me through the window, he lets out a low whistle that scrapes over my skin like sandpaper.
“Kozlov wasn’t kidding. She’s perfect.”
I shrink back in my seat, the handle digging painfully into my hip as his gaze crawls over me through the glass.
Bodhi climbs out and circles the car toward me, positioning himself in front of my door, but Piotr’s still there, leaning down to get a better look, his breath fogging up the window.
“No wonder the boss is keeping her so close,” Piotr continues, grinning.
“Bet she’s sweet all over.” He doesn’t bother to lower his voice, speaking loud enough for me to hear every word clearly through the cracked window.
“If you want to know how things... work, how to please a man, I’ll happily teach you some skills. It might make them keep you longer.”
Bodhi curses and steps between us, blocking Piotr’s view with his broad shoulders.
“Her innocence is Kozlov’s top concern,” Bodhi says evenly. “Remember that.”
“She’d still be a virgin. Just one that’s able to give a decent blow job.” Piotr winks at me, straightens, and turns away. “Don’t pretend you don’t want a taste.”