Chapter 5 — Kiera #2
While I stood there in the middle of the room, I realized that Lurch had closed the door. But he didn’t lock it before leaving. Did he forget? Or was that done on purpose?
I thought for a moment, wondering whether this was some kind of test. Was it a trap? Was I being baited?
At this point, none of that mattered; the place was a fortress anyway. There were guards everywhere. If they didn’t want me out of my cell, I’d be forced back inside in no time. That’s the worst thing that could happen to me if I dared to step out right now.
I needed some fresh air before I suffocated in here. So, I summoned the courage to walk toward the door and pull it open. The hinges let out a rusted creak, then gave way, revealing the lonely hallway.
Without hesitation, I stepped out and began walking down the corridor under the flickering fluorescent lights. The air smelled of oil and smoke, way better than that rotten stench in the cell.
As I moved through the corridor, I heard muffled voices coming from a nearby room. I paused for a second, listening to understand what was happening.
Then I heard a deep groan, dripping with sheer agony, accompanied by heavy stomps. My curiosity got the best of me, and I soon began walking toward the noise. The closer I drew to the room, the faster my heart raced.
The door was open when I arrived, and the scene before me stole my breath. A shirtless man was on his knees, looking up at the boss as a knife was carved into his back. I didn’t need to understand Russian to know he was begging for his life.
I recognized the man inflicting such pain on the boss’s victim. It was the one-eyed man who scared the shit out of me in the underground parking lot. His expression was blank as he carved deep cuts into the man’s skin.
The victim’s body was covered in blood as he groaned in pain, pleading for mercy. The boss towered over him with his back toward the entrance.
“Tell me what I want to know, and I’ll tell Boris to stop,” he said.
“I swear, I don’t know anything about the shipment!” the man replied in accented English, his voice laced with desperation.
Calmly, he said, “Wrong answer.”
The one-eyed man who’d paused for a moment resumed carving the blade into the victim’s back.
He threw his head back and cried out.
The man’s agonizing voice filled me with so much sympathy that I didn’t realize when I shouted, “Stop!”
Silence.
The boss turned around and saw me walking into the room. His brows arched, a hint of shock flickering in those cold, storm-gray eyes.
“You’re killing him,” I dared to add. “He swears he doesn’t know anything about your shipment. What more do you want from him?”
The one-eyed man named Boris glared at me in silence. If he were given the chance, he would gut me with that knife without hesitation.
The boss rubbed his eyes, as if frustrated by my interruption. He lowered his head for a split second, mumbling inaudible words.
That’s when the unexpected happened—faster than I could blink. The once-helpless man saw my presence as a distraction: an opportunity. He took it.
He lunged at me in a heartbeat, darted behind my back, and trapped my neck in his strong arms. “Don’t move!” he barked at the two men. “Take one more step, and I swear to God I’ll snap her neck!”
Son of a bitch!
This was the same motherfucker I was trying to save, and he turned on me. With every passing second, his grip tightened around my neck, proof that he wasn’t bluffing.
He trapped me in a position where I could barely breathe or move. I was suffocating, and my eyes seemed to bulge out of their sockets. The harder I slapped at his large arms, the tighter his grip became.
The boss stared at him in silence, a crooked smirk lining a corner of his mouth. “You’re using her as a bargaining chip…really?”
“I’m not joking. I’ll kill her.”
“She’s not worth more than shit to me,” he replied, taking slow, menacing steps forward.
I should’ve just stayed back in my cell instead of putting my life at risk. Telling this madman that I wasn’t worth more than shit to him would only push him toward wasting me.
Why keep me alive since he knew I was disposable?
Fuck.
“Go ahead,” he challenged the man. “I’d love to watch you snap her neck like a twig.”
“What?” The squeezed exclamation fell off my lips.
My captor must’ve mistaken me for someone important, someone he could trade his life for. He was wrong. I was just a prisoner who couldn’t keep her mouth shut.
His grip loosened ever so slightly, and I could sense his unease after he realized the boss didn’t give two shits about me. His breathing grew more labored by the second, his desperation rising at the same pace.
He was screwed now, and he knew it.
The only question was, was I screwed too?
In his desperation, the man squeezed my neck more tightly, as if he were trying to suffocate me. My eyes widened in terror as I struggled against his arm. To no avail.
When I met the boss’s gaze, he was calm as fuck, a pesky little smirk on his face. He watched as this man slowly strangled me from behind and did nothing. That grin on his lips told me one thing.
He was enjoying the show.
My vision began to blur, and I started losing strength. The room was swirling, and the background noise faded as I drifted unconscious.
That asshole actually stood there, refusing to stop this maniac from sending me to an early grave.
My hands fell to my sides, and the last thing I heard before passing out was a loud gunshot. It echoed in my head, and my body collapsed to the floor.
Out like a light.