“I don’t doubt that,” I say with a flat tone. “Where is Alaina?”
He walks in with two other men behind him. With a click of his fingers, both men come to either side of me, picking me up as they begin carrying me out.
“This isn’t necessary. I can walk, I don’t care anymore.” I slump my feet down to the floor. I’ve lost all will and hope to live, and at this point, I don’t care. I feel like who I am now, is not the same woman anymore. I feel dirty, violated, and corrupted, in the most disgusting way.
I hate Ade Nixon.
“Don’t be like that, sweet cunt.” The man runs his hands up my dress, slipping a finger inside me roughly. I look dead out in front of me, nothing showing in my eyes. My soul has been broken and my light has turned dark. This last week has not been like living in a nightmare because in this nightmare, you’re awake. There’s no waking up from this, there is no waking up from the feeling I feel inside me. This is my reality, not my bad dream. I’ve been living in a house secluded with pedophiles, rapists, and pig-headed men who think women are here for their pleasure only. When this is over, and if I come out of this alive, I know I’ll never be the same again. There will be no coming back from this. I’ve been poked, prodded, touched and manhandled in ways that a woman should ever have to feel. I’ve gone from being a virgin to dirt in record time and then losing any purity that I ever thought I had.
“Where’s Alaina?” I repeat in the same flat tone.
The man is still pumping his dirty, fat finger inside me.
Kazimir laughs from where he’s standing. “Don’t you worry your sweet self about little Alaina. She’s being well taken care of.”
The man pulls his finger out of me and forces them down inside my mouth, making me scrunch up my face in disgust. He pulls his fingers out and I look at him.
“Are you done?” I ask in the same bored tone.
He laughs so hard his fat belly jiggles. “She’s getting the hang of this boss. Let me put my dick inside it.”
Kazimir narrows his eyes, lighting a cigar. “Not yet. I need something intact to make my boy come with me. If he doesn’t, I’ll tie him up and make him watch me fuck that sweet cunt until next week.”
I swallow down the very possibility that this could happen. Ade and I haven’t been able to establish enough of a solid relationship for me to feel secure, in the fact, that he’d throw down his own life to save me. Sure, he plays caveman with me, but playing caveman and playing dead man are two completely different things. And that talk with Abby about him not having any emotions, doesn’t help.
Standing there completely motionless until I feel a push from behind me, we carry on walking down the hallway until we arrive at another room. I haven’t seen one window the whole time I’ve been here. The floor feels as though it’s small pebbles under my feet, leading me to believe that we’re on a boat. The walls and doors are metal. I have no clue where the fuck I’ve been for the past week. We walk into an enclosed room, where there’s a light in the middle, hanging from the ceiling and a chair sitting underneath it. Kazimir points to the chair, shutting the door with just him and me inside. I walk to the chair and sit down. He kneels in front of me and tilts his head.
“Do you know why this has happened?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“I need my son on my team. I heard that there were only two little girls that he favors the most in this world. Alaina and Abby. Abby was meant to be where you are right now. However, when I found out about his hot little affair with some new little snatch, I had to see for myself who this woman was that’s apparently locked my son’s balls up on a leash.”
I laugh sardonically. “I have not.”
Closing my eyes, I attempt to shut everything out. I need to find a happy place, a place where I can go to make me not want to end myself the next time I get a hold of a gun.
Kazimir chuckles, standing in front of me. “We must go.”
I look up at him in between the hair that’s falling in front of my eyes. “Where are we?”
He laughs, puffing on his cigar. “In Westbeach. Where else.”
We’re walking down the steps from Drago’s house when my phone dings in my pocket. I swipe it open and see it’s a message from Drago.
Drago: Don’t go to Russia. That was a decoy.
Stopping in my tracks, making the gravel skid under my feet, I begin typing out a reply. I’m half way through when my phone starts ringing. I click answer, immediately.
“What do you mean, don’t go to Russia. And where the fuck are you?”