Page 77 of Innocent Intentions (The Syndicate #1)

Margot

My head is pounding. My eyes feel heavy. I crack them open, then slam them shut as vertigo takes over.

Wait. What did I just see?

I open them again, slower this time, and blink against the blur.

This isn’t our bedroom.

I manage three seconds before I lean over the side of the cot and throw up.

Again. And again.

Five full minutes of vomiting.

Once it’s over, I breathe through the nausea and force myself to look around.

The room is small. Windowless. There’s a single door across from me, with a window placed too high for me to see through.

I’m lying on some shitty excuse for a cot, barely more than a slab of foam on metal.

The floor’s covered in grime. There’s a metal toilet on the far wall. The room smells like metal and mildew.

Where the fuck am I ?

Why am I in a cell?

Then it hits me.

The gala.

My boss.

The hallway.

The needle.

The men.

They have me.

The Bratva has me.

And Ronald. That bastard. He’s the one who sold me out. My own boss.

Fuck. This is bad. This is so fucking bad.

I jump off the cot and rush toward the door. I trip on the hem of my dress but don’t stop. I reach the handle and, of course, it’s locked.

I whirl around to head back to the cot and trip again.

“Ugh, fuck this,” I mutter.

I grab the bottom of the dress and rip off ten inches of fabric, freeing my legs. Then I yank the cloak from my shoulder, tearing it off completely. It’ll have to serve as my blanket now.

My breathing is ragged. My head is spinning.

Whatever they injected me with must’ve been strong. My body’s screaming to shut down. My limbs feel like concrete. My thoughts flicker and fade.

But I fight it. I can’t sleep. I don’t know what they’ll do while I’m out. I have to stay awake. I have to.

My body doesn’t listen.

But I’m not afraid. I know Matty’s coming. He’ll find me. He always does.

I let the darkness take me, whispering one promise to myself.

He’ll save me.

He’ll be here soon.