Page 10
Story: Edge of Desperation
“Shhh, my pet,” a gruff voice replies. “There’s no one here to help you. It’ll all be over soon.”
“What’s going o?—”
A pinch in my arm causes my eyes to drift close once again. My pain disappears, but I feel as though I’m floating away from my body. I let myself slip back into the abyss. The next time I come to, I’m hanging upside down over someone’sshoulder. I’m too weak to open my mouth and ask what’s going on or where I am.
Nothing looks familiar. The walls are concrete, and there are several large water puddles on the floor. We pass by several doors that remind me of prison cells. I can’t get a good look at them because I can’t lift my head up. Suddenly, we stop, and a lock disengages.
“Not yet,” someone yells. “Boss wants her first.”
“He gets all the good ones,” the man holding me says.
“Better get her up there before he kills you.”
The man mumbles something in Russian and marches further into the corridor. He steps onto an elevator, and my stomach jostles with the movements of ascent. I groan and try to twist out of my capture’s hold.
Mystery goon grips my waist harder, which I’m sure will leave bruises later. He knocks on a door, and someone yells, ‘enter’.
He places me on a chair to face an opulent desk with a brooding man sitting behind it. I take a moment and study him as he does the same to me. Normally, I might find a man like this handsome, but there’s something in his eyes that screams ‘DANGER’.
“Who are you?”
“I’m your new master.”
I jerk my chin out stubbornly. “I don’t think so, pal.”
My face whips to the side, and my body flies from the chair with the force of the blow. I grip my cheek and look up with wide eyes at the man who carried me into the room.
“Don’t speak unless you’re told to, slave.”
Realizing this is not the time to be a smartass, I bite my tongue, but I don’t lower my eyes.
“Oleg, don’t put too many marks on the merchandise,” the man behind the desk chastises.
Oleg grips my arm and tugs me back into the chair.
“My name is Dmitri Krukov,” he introduces. “And you are Aurora Parks, investigative reporter for theBoston Herald. I believe you’ve been poking around for a story about me and my family for over a year now, isn’t that right, pet?”
Fuck! Sweat trickles down the back of my neck, and my heart hammers in my chest as I whip my head around quickly, searching for Lace.
“Looking for someone?” Dmitri taunts. Remembering what happened the last time I spoke, I keep my mouth shut. Dmitri slams his fist down on the desk, causing me to jump. “I asked you a fucking question.”
“Where’s Lace?”
Dmitri laughs. “Oleg, where’s Lace?”
Oleg shrugs. “She got held up.”
“I’d be more worried about yourself, my pet,” Dmitri sneers. “You’re going to be so much fun to break.”
I’m trapped, but I’ll be damned if I go down without a fight. I jump out of the chair and dash around Oleg. Just as I reach for the door handle, my head snaps backward from Oleg, grabbing a fistful of my hair. He pulls me up by the roots until my feet are dangling in the air.
“Bring her to me,” Dmitri orders, pushing everything off his desk. Oleg slams my back down on the desk, knocking the wind out of my lungs. “Strip her.”
Oleg rips my shirt down the middle, exposing my lace bra. He licks his lips, and his eyes gleam with lust. I hear the click of a gun as he rips the buttons off my dress pants and starts yanking them down, and I claw at his hands.
“Now, now,” Dmitri says calmly with a sadistic gleam in his eyes. “We wouldn’t want to start putting holes into this lovely body. Besides, it won’t stop the inevitable.”
My panties are torn from my body. I scream as Dmitri slams into me. “Noooo, please,” I beg, tears streaming down my face. “Please, stop.”
“What’s going o?—”
A pinch in my arm causes my eyes to drift close once again. My pain disappears, but I feel as though I’m floating away from my body. I let myself slip back into the abyss. The next time I come to, I’m hanging upside down over someone’sshoulder. I’m too weak to open my mouth and ask what’s going on or where I am.
Nothing looks familiar. The walls are concrete, and there are several large water puddles on the floor. We pass by several doors that remind me of prison cells. I can’t get a good look at them because I can’t lift my head up. Suddenly, we stop, and a lock disengages.
“Not yet,” someone yells. “Boss wants her first.”
“He gets all the good ones,” the man holding me says.
“Better get her up there before he kills you.”
The man mumbles something in Russian and marches further into the corridor. He steps onto an elevator, and my stomach jostles with the movements of ascent. I groan and try to twist out of my capture’s hold.
Mystery goon grips my waist harder, which I’m sure will leave bruises later. He knocks on a door, and someone yells, ‘enter’.
He places me on a chair to face an opulent desk with a brooding man sitting behind it. I take a moment and study him as he does the same to me. Normally, I might find a man like this handsome, but there’s something in his eyes that screams ‘DANGER’.
“Who are you?”
“I’m your new master.”
I jerk my chin out stubbornly. “I don’t think so, pal.”
My face whips to the side, and my body flies from the chair with the force of the blow. I grip my cheek and look up with wide eyes at the man who carried me into the room.
“Don’t speak unless you’re told to, slave.”
Realizing this is not the time to be a smartass, I bite my tongue, but I don’t lower my eyes.
“Oleg, don’t put too many marks on the merchandise,” the man behind the desk chastises.
Oleg grips my arm and tugs me back into the chair.
“My name is Dmitri Krukov,” he introduces. “And you are Aurora Parks, investigative reporter for theBoston Herald. I believe you’ve been poking around for a story about me and my family for over a year now, isn’t that right, pet?”
Fuck! Sweat trickles down the back of my neck, and my heart hammers in my chest as I whip my head around quickly, searching for Lace.
“Looking for someone?” Dmitri taunts. Remembering what happened the last time I spoke, I keep my mouth shut. Dmitri slams his fist down on the desk, causing me to jump. “I asked you a fucking question.”
“Where’s Lace?”
Dmitri laughs. “Oleg, where’s Lace?”
Oleg shrugs. “She got held up.”
“I’d be more worried about yourself, my pet,” Dmitri sneers. “You’re going to be so much fun to break.”
I’m trapped, but I’ll be damned if I go down without a fight. I jump out of the chair and dash around Oleg. Just as I reach for the door handle, my head snaps backward from Oleg, grabbing a fistful of my hair. He pulls me up by the roots until my feet are dangling in the air.
“Bring her to me,” Dmitri orders, pushing everything off his desk. Oleg slams my back down on the desk, knocking the wind out of my lungs. “Strip her.”
Oleg rips my shirt down the middle, exposing my lace bra. He licks his lips, and his eyes gleam with lust. I hear the click of a gun as he rips the buttons off my dress pants and starts yanking them down, and I claw at his hands.
“Now, now,” Dmitri says calmly with a sadistic gleam in his eyes. “We wouldn’t want to start putting holes into this lovely body. Besides, it won’t stop the inevitable.”
My panties are torn from my body. I scream as Dmitri slams into me. “Noooo, please,” I beg, tears streaming down my face. “Please, stop.”
Table of Contents
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