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Fight or flight.

The experts say that humans experience one or the other under stressful circumstances. As a female who weighs less than 6 stone, I should really have learned to run. It’s not like I’m equipped to take out mean men who are twice my size.

But my twin sister got all the flight response.

Mom always says I’m fifty pounds of dynamite in a five-pound bag, and I don’t have a very long fuse, either. I just wish I was more like a thousand pounds of dynamite in a hundred-pound bag. Then maybe I’d have blown another way out.

My stepfather really caused everything. If he hadn’t been so unbearably gross, I never would have felt compelled to move out of my mom’s apartment. Leaving home meant that I needed to find another place to live, and being on your own is expensive. It’s worse when you have no education or skillset, other than riding. It didn’t leave me a lot of options.

My sister’s best friend gave me two horses who weren’t good at jumping, and I used them to run races, earning money more often than not. At first it was enough, but as bills began to pile up, I needed a bigger win.

To make enough, I needed more money than I had, so I borrowed it. But then. . .I didn’t win. I lost. And then I was really in a bind. I kept paying things forward, staying a half step ahead of where I needed to be all the time.

Until I wasn’t.

The first time I met Nojus, I thought he was cute. He had a little-boy air about him. I must have been delusional, because the second time we met, when I had to tell him I didn’t have his money, he was busy gutting someone when I walked through the door. I nearly lost my breakfast, and I couldn’t bring myself to tell him the truth. I lied and said it had been stolen. I think he knew, but he gave me an extension with outrageous interest, which would double the amount due. It felt better than being gutted, at least.

Only, now, almost a year later, after throwing a race to cover some of the compounding interest, he basically owns me.

All he has to do if I stop listening to him, aside from kill me, is hand in his evidence of my criminal activity to the policija. Which is how he’s been able to use me to run his errands, threaten people in higher positions where the more obvious goons could never sneak through, and dig up information from people who would never talk to him.

Even so, I’m way past the grace period.

And I’m still broke.

“Adriana.” Nojus’s hand strokes the top of my head and my heart hammers.

I can’t help looking around desperately for anything I might be able to use to defend myself. Why didn’t I bring something? Oh, right. Because the second I pulled anything out, one of his men would just shoot me.

It’s not like I even know how to use a gun.

“You still haven’t repaid me.”

“I’ve done you a lot of services.”

“None of that discharged your debt.” His hand slides down my jaw slowly and hooks beneath my chin. “I’ve told you what you can do.” He lifts my face toward his. “I can’t figure out why you keep refusing. It’s making me self-conscious, to be honest. Do you not find me attractive?”

He makes me want to claw my own nails down my face until I’m so hideous no one would ever look at me. He reminds me so much of Martinš, my stepfather, that the thought of him touching me makes bile rise up in my throat.

“I vowed years ago never to date, never to fall in love, and never to marry. You’ve met my stepfather. You know why.”

“What I know,” Nojus says, “is that I’m right here, telling you that you can pay me back, or you can die. Isn’t breaking a promise better than dying?”

My hand itches to slap him, but I doubt my jujitsu classes will do much for me in this situation. Seeing that he’s got at least six men in the next room, I know that even if I beat him, I’ll still lose. “My sister has a new boyfriend,” I finally say, my voice trembling. “She just won a huge jumping contest. It’s why I was already here in Riga when you called.”

“And?” His hand slides across my shoulder.

I need to think about something else. Anything else. If I can’t distract myself, I’ll punch him. Or I’ll puke. Either one will likely get me killed.

“If you let me go talk to her, I’ll come back with your money.”

“You think your crippled sister’s boyfriend is just going to give you half a million euros?” His laughter grates on my ears. “What an optimistic slut you are.” Without warning, he slaps me across my face, sending me sprawling across the floor. The rubber band holding my hair back snaps and it falls loose across my face.

I welcome the violence. It’s much easier to handle than the misery-inducing caresses.

“You have one hour. If you’re not back here by then, I’ll send my men to either collect you or kill you, Adriana. You’ll be given the choice, but I really hope they collect you.” His hand drops to his crotch and he rubs, his eyes on mine.