Viktor(11)

“If you let her go … and promise not to call the cops … I will stay.” The words pour out of me like blood from an oozing wound.

“Deal.”

I close my eyes and let out a breath, a tear running down my cheek.

Suddenly, the figure in the shadows steps out. He’s huge, and he keeps getting bigger with every step. I can’t help but feel overwhelmed as I step back, away from the chair. Only when he’s right in front of us do I notice the mask on his face.

I don’t have time to look at it, though, because he immediately pulls out a knife.

I almost shriek, but before I get the chance, he’s already cut through the ropes. He picks her up as if she weighs nothing, and then turns around and barges out the door.

“No, wait!” I yell, running after him.

“Lex! No, don’t do this! Please!” Alisha yells, punching and kicking the guy, but he won’t budge.

It’s as if he’s made of rock.

I follow him to the front door, and he rips it open and storms outside. Then he slams the door shut behind him. Before I have the chance to say good-bye.

I throw my fists against the door, screaming for him to let me out. “Wait! I haven’t even said good-bye!”

After minutes of pounding and kicking the door, it finally opens again. His body blocks the view, but I peer past him only to see the fence closing. Alisha’s face is smashed against the taxi window, tears staining her cheeks. I can’t hear her screams, but I can tell she’s calling for me.

It’s the last thing I see before the door closes again.

It hits me like a brick in the face.

A cold draft of night air swooping past me.

This is it.

One simple choice. One easy decision. I decided my fate, just like that.

Just like that … I gave up my life for my sister.

And I never got to say good-bye.





Chapter 4





Alexis





“I didn’t get to say good-bye …” I murmur as I sink to my knees.

I bury my face in my hands, not wanting to accept my new truth.

I’m his prisoner now.

I willingly sacrificed myself to set my sister free.

And I don’t know when I’ll ever see her again … if I’ll ever see her again.

“How could you?” I mutter. “I couldn’t even say good-bye …”

Through my fingers, I see him stand tall above me. Fists clenched. His face still hidden behind a hoodie and that hideous mask.

He clears his throat. The sound is so guttural, I can’t even tell if he’s genuine or not.

“Well, you got what you wanted,” I say, wiping away the tears. “She’s gone, and I’m here.”

He doesn’t answer me; all he does is stand there and watch me. At least, I think he’s watching me because I can’t see anything but that mask.

“So what now? How long are you gonna keep me here?” I ask. “Forever?”

He grunts. “Depends.”

“On what?”

“You.”

Jesus Christ. He couldn’t give a more vague answer.

I get up from the floor and turn my head, refusing to even look at him. I wish I had never fucking danced for him. I don’t give a shit about the money. It wasn’t worth sacrificing my freedom for.

“I wish you never hired me …” I mumble as he walks past me.

He briefly stops in his tracks and looks back over his shoulder at me.

“I don’t,” he says, and then he turns around and walks up the stairs.

I cross my arms over my chest, giving him the dirtiest look I can give. Frustration boils up until I can’t take it anymore. I grab the nearest pot with flowers and throw it at him in rage.

“Motherfucker!”

I don’t know what possesses me to break his shit.

Maybe the fact I lost my freedom to a man like him.

I know it’s irrational and stupid. It only makes me owe him more, and I regret it the moment it happens, but it’s too late for that now.

The pot flies straight against the wall, shattering into a million bits.

I watch him pause and turn toward the mess, not even acknowledging what I did as he grabs one of the shards and looks at it. Then he keeps walking up the stairs, ignoring me completely, the shard still in his hand. I don’t look away until he’s gone from my sight.

Suddenly, thunder roars, making me suck in a breath. I didn’t realize it was raining, but now that I look at the window, I can see the specks. I walk toward it and place my hand on the cold glass, gazing wistfully outside.

From another room, the old man comes shuffling in again. “Come with me, please,” he says.

I turn around as he’s already walking away, and for a moment, I contemplate not going with him at all … but I realize there’s no point. I’m a prisoner here now. If I run, he’ll call the cops and get me sent to prison. If I stay in this huge house, I’m still a prisoner … but at least I’ll have some luxury.