Page 23

MARGOT

F or the first time in days, my captors have given me new clothes. A shower. Jewelry even.

But it isn’t out of kindness. Not even close.

The man with platinum blond hair, Oleg, is the one who took me upstairs. At first, I thought he was being merciful. He didn’t come into the shower with me or even pay much attention while I undressed.

Then he ordered me to shave. Everywhere . That was the first sign of sinister intent. The second was the red, lacy lingerie he deemed a ‘dress,’ the six-inch heels accompanying them hardly subtle.

I don’t know why it felt so cruel for him to insist I dress myself up like a whore, going as far as making me fix my hair and makeup.

But it did. When I was finished, I thought for sure he’d take me to Nikita, but to my great relief, he brought me back to the basement.

I’ve been sitting on the mattress, my hands shaking ever since.

The knowledge of an ominous party happening tonight makes the wait so much worse than if I were sitting in the dark. A party means people, not person. It’s unlikely I’ll be solely facing Nikita when I go back upstairs.

How many people are they going to have rape me? How much more broken can I possibly be?

When the door to the basement finally opens, I suck in a breath and stand, lifting my chin as if I’m not terrified. It feels stupid and pointless, but I can’t stand the idea of the sadists getting off on my fear.

I expect Oleg to show, but it’s Arseni who’s come to get me. My face falls along with my eyes until I lift them up like heavy weights.

He’s one of them. He’s worse than them. At least they’re honest.

He shouldn’t get to see my fear either.

Holding my gaze on his face turns out being useless when he won’t look at me. A ring of jingling keys swings on his finger as he approaches, the chain around my ankle in his sights.

He doesn’t say a word as he unshackles me then grasps my arm and leads me to the stairs.

I told myself the next time I saw him wouldn’t hurt, that I was awakened now, that he couldn’t weaken me anymore.

But still, with every step up the stairs we take, his hardened expression wiggles the knife he plunged into my chest.

“You’re a monster for this,” I say, keeping my voice as even as possible.

He flicks his blank gaze at me then shoves open the basement door. “True… But there are worse things.”

I huff. “Like what?”

“Like pedophiles.”

That hits me like a physical blow to my stomach, and my lungs act accordingly. I yank from his grasp, my chest hurting from lack of oxygen until I manage to take a weak inhale.

I told myself I wouldn’t do it. I swore to myself I wouldn’t do it. But my eyes don’t care. They fill with pained tears Arseni doesn’t react to.

Standing in the doorway, he slides to the side and waves for me to go through. When I don’t budge, he lowers his hands to his sides. A frown, almost imperceptible, shows more in his eyes than it does on his lips.

“If you don’t walk, I’ll carry you… You don’t want me to do that.”

“What’s going to happen to me?” I cross my arms over my chest and glare like I’m angry, but all I can seem to feel is fear and betrayal. I wish I was angry.

Arseni just stares.

“Arseni…” His eyes close as my voice trembles.

“Stop,” he says before his Adam’s apple flexes. His voice is sharp, but the discomfort is written in his features.

He doesn’t want to do this .

I turn my head away when hope brings warmth to my frozen toes. I can’t fall for this again. My heart won’t allow it.

He doesn’t care about you, Margot. He’s never cared about you.

He kidnapped you. He assaulted you. He used you when you were most vulnerable then tossed you away like a cum-filled sock.

He. Does. Not. Want. You.

“Don’t fight this,” Arseni says, opening his eyes with a sigh. “You’ll only make things worse for yourself.”

“What am I supposed to do?” My voice squeaks as I wrap my arms tighter. “Am I just supposed to let people rape me?”

“Yes.” He nods, his tone completely serious.

It only scares me more. “You should be as boring as possible. I think…” He breaks his gaze away.

“I think I can keep you for a while, but if you excite Nikita, things will get harder for you. You don’t want to grab his attention…

So don’t fight. And don’t cry too much.”

My breath stutters through my dropped jaw, and I climb the last step to meet my captor. “Arseni, please . Help me .”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?” I flatten my palms against his chest and sidle close to him. My eyes are all pleas, but it makes no difference because he doesn’t look at me.

“Because I don’t want to.” He bats my hands away as he distances himself. I nearly fall forward. My wobbly legs don’t want to stand.

“You’re a whore, Margot,” he says, squaring his shoulders.

He looks just above me. “Whoever you think I am, get it out of your head. I’m not your savior.

I’m not your friend. I’m the guy who fucks you so your cunt doesn’t dry up before it’s put to use.

That is all that I am… If you don’t start walking, I’m gonna hurt you.

” He finally finds my eyes when he shrugs. “It’s your choice.”

My choice…

As if anything that has happened here has been my choice.

He played me. He played me like the blind idiot I am.

Now I feel anger. It stills the quiver in my lip, pinches off my tear ducts. Gritting my teeth, I nod and wipe the moisture off my cheeks.

When Arseni starts walking, I follow him, just to save myself the embarrassment of uselessly begging him one more time. I only have a hint of dignity left, and I’ll need it for tonight. Nikita is bound to shred all he can.

My eyes stay glued to Arseni’s back as I follow him down a hallway into the open space of what I’m guessing is a living room. My eyes finally move from him when he stops.

A man by the sofa ceases his pacing and lets his arms uncross when he sees Arseni. Then his gaze flicks to me.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Arseni growls. His shoulders lift with tension.

The man opens his mouth, but no words come out when Nikita’s arrival interrupts. “Luka.” Nikita spreads his arms in a warm welcome that I’ll never trust again. “I’m so glad you could make it. Please,” he waves his hand to gesture toward a hall. “The party’s right this way.”

After turning back to us with his face pinching, Luka heads where Nikita waved, not bothering to respond to the psychopath. Which is a little strange considering Nikita is supposedly important.

“Why the fuck would you invite him?” Arseni sneers as soon as Luka’s gone.

Nikita’s smile drops. “He came by yesterday while you were out. It doesn’t seem he got the message I asked you to send… But ,” Nikita sighs. “I’ve decided to forgive you. You’re young and impulsive; it’s in your nature to seek out those with the same maturity.”

Arseni’s back straightens as his hands flex. Nikita didn’t speak in a condescending tone—more like he was merely stating the truth. That only magnifies the slight.

“I’ve decided to embrace this,” he says like he’s really decided to be the bigger person. I don’t really know what this is about, but I can see it’s pissing Arseni off. “Now…”

When Nikita’s eyes find mine, they stay as dark as his soul, the smile he forces never touching them. He gestures where Luka went. “If you don’t mind, Margot. You’re the guest of honor.”

If I don’t mind.

I scoff aloud when I only mean to do it in my mind. Nikita’s smile slips, but he doesn’t say anything more. Arseni grips my bicep and drags me down the hall, Nikita’s cane stabbing the floor behind us. I don’t know what happened to give him that limp, but I hope it was painful.

Music comes from an open set of double doors, and when we enter what looks to be four rooms made into one, several sets of eyes turn to look at me like they were anticipating our arrival. My arrival. Others are too caught up in their own sin to notice us.

I look around the room that’s purpose appears solely for sex.

Many couples and even a pair of three people are adding moans to the musical space as their bodies mingle on top of leather couches, one of four benches, and in one case, the wall.

Several pieces of equipment litter the room without any obvious purpose, but there’s one piece at the head of the room that runs my imagination wild.

Four tall, wooden posts jut from the floor with cords strung through metal rings at each of their centers. I know this is meant for me even before Arseni leads me to it. It’s too big, too spotlit not to be for the main event.

My spine shivers as the eyes on my back seem to multiply. This is only getting more terrifying.

I peer over my shoulder at Arseni as he nudges my back toward the posts. But of course, he doesn’t look at me. If he did, it wouldn’t matter. He isn’t going to change my fate. He isn’t my ally.

Still, I’m pathetic enough to try.

“What is this?” I whisper as he leads me to one of the posts and begins tying me to it.

Yellow rubber strangles my wrist, cutting off blood to my hand.

It’s mercilessly tight, despite the elastic material, but I don’t bother protesting.

I’m too busy sweeping the room, darting across faces that look hungry, vicious, ready to devour me. All except one.

I linger my gaze on Arseni’s supposed friend leaning against a wall near the exit. He frowns, his brow furrowing uncomfortably, but he doesn’t look away.

Please , I mouth, though I know it’s futile. He does nothing in response.

As Arseni pulls my other arm to the beam on my left, opening up my chest, I turn to him. “Arseni, what are you doing?”

Still no answer. I don’t really need it. It becomes clear when he finishes tying my wrists and lifts my leg, bringing my sore ankle to another pole. I gasp at the sudden strain in my arms and try to put my weight on the ground with my other foot. My toe barely touches.

“ Please , please, stop. You don’t have to do this.

” Adrenaline washes the walls of my veins.

I thought I was scared, but it’s now that the real panic starts.

My breaths come in tight little jerks of my lungs when he moves onto my other ankle, lifting me into the air so every limb is spread for maximum exposure.

The last knot he makes feels like it cuts off all blood supply to my foot, but it doesn’t hurt nearly as much as the tension in my joints. My limbs scream as he steps back to observe me.

“Arseni…”

I let out a sob that he doesn’t acknowledge. I press my chin to my chest to peer at him, my neck protesting for nothing when he doesn’t meet my eyes.

Another voice calls to him, and we both look to see who it is. A blonde woman, young and perky, gives him a seductive wave like they know each other. Or maybe she’s just a slut.

He goes to her while I feel as though the muscles in my shoulders will tear, and he doesn’t give me a passing glance as he takes the woman’s hand and leads her to a couch.

I let my head fall back to look at the ceiling, my sobs uncontained. Fear clutches my throat until I can’t get any real air in, my desperate lungs trying so hard they hyperventilate.

When the first man’s hands slide up my thighs, pushing the lacy lingerie onto my stomach, I clench my eyes shut and try to pretend I care as little as Arseni does.