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Viktor(18)

By:Clarissa Wild


“Of course,” he says cheerfully as if it’s an odd question.

I get up from the stool and say, “Okay. Maybe I’ll go do that then. Thanks for the pancakes. They were delicious.”

“No worries. Glad you liked it.”

As I turn around, he clears his throat.

“One more thing before you go around the house. Just make sure you don’t leave the property. Don’t try to climb over the fences. Just stay on the grounds and you’ll be okay.”

I lick my lips and think about it before I answer him. “What if I do it anyway? What if I try to run?”

The temperature in the room suddenly feels like it’s dropped ten degrees. “I know Viktor well … Don’t try to run. He will find you.”

It doesn’t sound like a threat from Winston. It sounds more like a warning … A warning about how badly Viktor wants to keep me here.

But I know something they don’t know about me.

I can’t be contained, and I’ll do anything to be free again.





Chapter 6





Alexis





A few days later





I search around the house for windows I can open, but everything seems tightly shut. I wonder if it’s on purpose since I managed to get in perfectly fine the other day. I just can’t get out. And more importantly, even if I find a window that I can open, and I jump out and make a run for it … will I be able to escape?

Winston warned me not to try, and for some reason, I think I should take his word on this. At least not until I get on Viktor’s good side.

So I make my way up the stairs and explore the upper quarters. There are many rooms—one filled with books, one to play pool in, another guestroom and bathroom, and a washing room. I’m not just looking around … I’m looking for anything I can use to help me. A computer. A cell phone. Anything. If only just to contact my sister and make sure she’s okay.

But I don’t find a phone anywhere or anything that looks remotely like technology, which is weird. You’d think someone like Viktor would have a phone, but no. The only place I haven’t checked is his room.

And I’m scared shitless to go there.

But I’m still gonna do it.

Am I nuts? Is it worth it? Hell, yes.

Besides, he’s not there right now. I saw him storm into the kitchen just a few minutes ago while I was hiding in one of the rooms upstairs. And that means I have time to hop in and out of his room and do a quick sniff.

Checking to see if anyone’s coming, I peer out the door and listen to them yelling, but I’m not paying attention. I swiftly run to his room and pull the handle. To my surprise, it opens. What I find inside makes my jaw drop. Shards of glass lie in a pile in the corner, tables have been flipped over, scratch marks are on the wall, the closed curtains are shredded, and a chair has been used as a target practice. It’s a complete mess.

I almost wanna say ‘wow,’ but then I remember I gotta stay quiet and be quick before he gets back. I go in and start sifting through his things, making sure only to touch what’s necessary, like his drawers and closets. I’m looking for anything I can use; even some information about him would be nice. In his closet, I find different kinds of masks and in another cabinet, a whole array of painkillers.

Jesus, this guy is on a lot of stuff.

It makes me wonder if it’s really as bad as Winston made it out to be … or worse.

Is this why he wears the mask? Why he hides behind curtains and sneaks up in the shadows? Because he’s in pain and doesn’t want anyone to see?

I won’t know the answers until I see the man behind the mask, and the more I learn about him, the crazier my obsession with finding out who he really is becomes.

From the corner of my eye, I suddenly spot something metallic glint from underneath his bed, and I crawl underneath and pull out a cell phone. Fuck, yes. Success.

With sweat running down my back, I analyze the older phone and realize I don’t need a passcode, so I quickly type in Alisha’s number.

But then the door flings open wide.

I turn around in shock, and the cell phone slips from my hand.

It’s him.

My eyes widen at the sight of his mask and the eyes that flare beneath it.

Fuck. He’s caught me red-handed.

With a quick shove of my foot, I manage to slide the phone back under the bed as he storms over to me.

“What are you doing in here?” he growls.

He’s right in my face as I get up on my feet. I have to think of something. Anything. “I … came to dance for you.”

Shit, was that the best I could think of?

His eyes narrow as he snorts, his fists balled. A knot forms in my stomach as I look up at him from under my lashes, determined not to panic. But damn, if he says yes, I guess I’ll have to break my promise to Alisha already.