32. Luna
Alapping sound trickles in through the haze surrounding my mind, and my eyes flutter open slowly. Feeling weighed down by whatever they injected me with, I try swallowing several times, but a dry knot sits in my throat. When I finally do swallow, bile comes up.
Pushing up onto my forearms, I try to look around, but the gray walls spin. After a moment, I attempt to stand, but I slip and fall back to the floor. Teeth clenched together, I expect to hit concrete, but my fingertips meet wood. My eyes follow the lines on the floor until I reach a wall.
Corrugated metal skirts the walls. I frown at the narrow space, illuminated by a sliver of daylight filtering in from?—
Wait.
Eyes chasing after the light, I turn until I find the source. A door with large metal handles is propped open. It’s a container. I’m in a container.
I scramble to my feet again. My body sways in a hypnotic rhythm as I lunge for the door, but my steps falter when the splash of water sounds against the metal box.
Water.
I’m on water.
When I reach the door and poke my head out, an unobstructed view of the horizon stretches indefinitely. The air is infused with the tang of salt. What would normally be a welcome inhale of briny freshness—instead brings crashing panic.
I fall out of the container with the next big swell and hit the deck on all fours. My stomach empties itself, and I roll to my side. The filet I had for dinner with Nik at the restaurant tickles the back of my throat, and my body trembles as I try to gather myself.
Get up, Luna.
My feet struggle for purchase against the slippery deck, and I use the last of my weakened strength to stand. Turning around in a circle, I let out a strangled whimper. Towering stacks of containers cut through the soft natural sea. It’s a maze of rectangular metal boxes, like a real-life Tetris game, and I’m somewhere in the middle.
The ship groans as it rises and dips with each wave. A breeze skirts across my face as tears fall down my cheeks, and I smack them away.
Not the time, Luna.
Walking feels foreign. But I manage to drag my feet through the labyrinth of container stacks. I don’t know where I’m going, but I’ll be damned if I sit in a container huddling in fear.
Nothing but the crashing of waves keeps me company as I roam—until a flash of movement to my right sends my heart pounding. A man in all black, carrying a long gun, paces on the upper deck. I try to follow the railing, but it wraps around to the front of the ship and out of sight. I need a better vantage point.
“I see you found your way out.”
I stop in my tracks and whirl around to find a burly man in a suit and three armed guards standing behind me. The man smiles, hands in his pockets. He looks middle-aged, with thick shoulder-length black hair. A long scar runs from his eye to his mouth.
“Come on. Mr. Rose will be landing soon,” he says.
I slowly back away, but my escape is blocked by a stack of containers. Metal digs into my back as I press against it.
He laughs. “Where you gonna go, huh? You’re in the middle of the ocean.” He tilts his head, eyes slowly scanning down my body. “Take her.”
Three guards step up to grab me. One spins me around and rips my arms behind my back before slamming me into the steel wall. The cold metal burns against my cheek as a plastic binding is placed over my wrists, and I kick out behind me, nailing a guard in the knee. A hand fists my hair and yanks until I scream, then smashes my head into the container. Spots creep into my vision and a warm trickle slides down my temple. The metallic taste hits my lips and seeps into my mouth.
I gag and struggle to stay upright, but my legs buckle. Dropping to the deck, my shoulders slump. The fight is leaving me. I’m so dizzy.
Come on, Luna. Come on, stay with it.
A headache blooms at the base of my skull from all the ringing in my ears. I barely register the hands that lift me to my feet. My vision blurs, and the spinning makes me nauseous enough to dry heave several times.
Seawater mist hits my face. No longer blocked by the containers, the wind whips harshly against my skin.
The guards carry me up a set of stairs and through a large metal door. Inside, the air is no longer fresh and salty; it’s turned stagnant with mildew and the acrid odors of fuel and oil.
I’m shuffled down a long corridor. If I weren’t so worried for my life, I’d be worried about the sanitation of this foul-smelling ship.
I’m jostled through another door, and the men secure me to a metal chair. My head is pounding, and with every jerk, blood seeps from my wound. I’m left alone to my own thoughts and painful headache.
There’s a set of bunk beds bolted to the wall, and a small porthole provides natural light. Off to the side, a workstation has been set up; a pen rolls on the desk with each movement of the ship. A soft hum vibrates within the room which leads me to believe I may be near the engine room.
As I sit here, trying to take stock of the room and my injuries, a prickling sensation behind my eyelids has the room going blurry for a new reason. Tears well in my eyes and burst down my face. I can’t suck in enough air—the humidity in this room is suffocating.
I work to take deep, steady breaths, in through my nose and out through my mouth. As my racing heart settles, my thoughts drift to Nik. How mad will he be when he finds out I left—and that I used his name to get my sister out?
Imagining my father’s reaction is chilling. I know, because he’s said as much, that he would never put his family above the Cosa Nostra. Which means I’m better off dead.
Footsteps echo along the hallway on the other side of the shut door. With a loud creak, the door shoves open, and in walks the same tall beady-eyed man who took me in the first place. He’s still in a suit, but his hair is freshly windblown, and deep dark circles shadow underneath his eyes.
A cell phone is positioned in front of my face, and with one click, he takes a photo. After typing something, he holds up the phone. “For proof of life,” he says with a snicker.
“What do you want?” I find myself asking. “My father won’t answer any of your demands.”
“It’s not your father I’m counting on.” He pulls a chair from the corner and sits down right in front of me.
Is he talking about Luka? I doubt the Bratva would risk anything for me. I was a party prize. Nik signed on the dotted line and earned himself a wife he neither wanted nor now wants. Sure, he may enjoy my company, but not enough to risk his organization.
The man crosses his arms. He peers down his long pointed nose at me, and I realize he looks like a gecko.
I let out a small laugh, but it quickly turns to tears. The man darts his tongue out to lick his lips, and I crack up even more.
I’m officially losing it.
“Is something funny about your current predicament, Mrs. Balakin?” I stiffen at his use of Nik’s last name—our last name. I hate the sound of it on his tongue. And I hate the fact that he’s going to try to use me against Nik. To appeal to his good side and loyalty by dangling me in front of him.
I am not bait.
“No, Mr …” I pause, realizing I don’t know his name.
“Rose.”
I raise my eyebrows and sneer. “No, Mr. Rose.”
“Well, then,” he says, drawing his chair closer, “I suggest you keep the laughing at a minimum.”
The stench of his breath is worse than the molded air. His hand finds my knee and I jerk it away as far as I can. It’s only a few inches before the ties around my feet prevent any further movement.
My maneuver doesn’t deter him. Placing his hand back on my knee, he inches it back and forth in a stroking motion. Bile threatens at the back of my throat as spindly fingers graze high and higher until I’m thrashing and trying to jerk aways as far as I can. He digs his fingers painfully into the top of my thigh, inching his face close to mine.
“I really hope they decide you’re expendable. I have delicious things in store for you, my little puppet.”
I rear my head back, saliva pooling in my mouth before I let it fly. The spit lands right below his nose. A snarl curls his lips, but then widens into a disgusting smile as he licks the wetness off his face.
“While I enjoy your taste, you must learn to listen.” He backhands me across the face. A sharp burning pain radiates across my jaw before the tingles turn numb. Heat crawls up my neck, the humiliation of being slapped like an insolent teenager infuriating.
Don’t cry, Luna.
Mr. Rose rises from his chair, palms rubbing down the front of his thighs. “Our members at EV always do like the feisty ones, but sometimes we need the girls to be pliable. That’s why we have this.”
He removes another syringe from his pocket and panic washes over me. Images of half-drugged girls in cages flood my mind, and I jerk in my chair unable to move.
“No. No, please don’t!” I cry, tears falling freely down my face.
He snatches my hair, fisting it tightly. I let out a shriek, and he yanks my head to the side to stab my neck with the needle. Moving too slow, he slides the plunger down.
“Let’s see how funny you find that.” He strides for the door.
The door slams behind him, and it shimmers into a pearlescent wave, back and forth, like a dance. My head falls back. Heat pools in my belly and the room around me fades away until all that’s left is a hazy mirage.
Nik stands before me, a hand outstretched. He’s saying words to me, but I can’t make them out.
“What?” I yell. I so desperately want to know what he’s saying.
The picture morphs, and instead of Nik, it’s my father. Raising a gun, he points the barrel at me, disappointment on his face.
“You were never enough, Luna,” he says.
My breathing rapidly intensifies until I can’t catch my breath. A shot flies out of the chamber and I scream as the bullet crawls toward me in slow motion before striking me in the heart. My vision goes black and my head lulls to the side.
As I jolt upright, everything around me ripples and shifts again, and suddenly my sister is sitting across from me. She brings sandwich to her mouth, takes a bite, and smiles at me.
“Find me, Luna.” Her words are a whisper, and she winks out of existence.
“Bella! Where are you?” I scream. My voice echoes around me.
The haze thickens until I’m covered in darkness. The only sound I hear is my own rapid panting. A metallic taste fills my mouth as I bite down on my tongue, keeping in another scream. Tears stream down my face, and I lick each drop of salt. Pressure on my chest causes me to panic even more than before. I can’t see. I can’t breathe.
“Help me!” I yell. Please turn the lights back on.
Cackling stereos around me, and I twist and turn with each punch of laughter to the air. I squeeze my eyes shut, fighting the darkness.
A female giggle taunts me, and I open my eyes to the inky black. Sadie’s hands roam over Nik’s bare chest. She licks the chorded column of his neck, and his eyes dart open to stare at me.
“Did you think I’d ever want you when I could have this?” He moans, and his eyes flutter closed again.
I turn my head to the side, needing to look away.
“Help!” I sob.
“Open your eyes.” I obey the command of Nik’s sultry voice, and I’m back in the room on the ship. But he isn’t here. No one is.
With the lights on, and the darkness gone, exhaustion beats me down, and the lapping of waves sings me to sleep.