Page 49 of Killaney Blood

I look at her. Beyond the obvious injuries, I see other signs. Track marks on her arms from forced heroin use. Cigarette burns on her thighs. And when I examine her more closely, I find evidence of trauma so severe I have to step away for a moment, bile rising in my throat.

I want to help her. God help me, I do. But if I'm caught.

My sister's face flashes in my mind. The Albanians' promise.

"Please," Tatiana whispers again.

Before I can answer, the door swings open. Heavy footsteps approach.

Tatiana's face contorts with terror.

The man grabs Tatiana's arm, yanking her off the table. She screams, clawing at him. He starts hitting her. Over and over.

She never woke up.

And when he was done, he turned and looked at me.

I blink, and the memory shatters. I'm back in the present, heart hammering so hard I can barely breathe.

It's that face. The same face that ended Tatiana's life is now staring across a crowded fight venue.

The man holds my gaze as he lifts one hand and drags a finger slowly across his throat.

The message couldn't be clearer: We're coming for you.

My hands tremble, but I force them still. Just like before. Don't show fear. Don't give them the satisfaction.

I turn away, my mind racing. The Albanians found me. After a year of freedom, of thinking I'd escaped, they found me.

Was I stupid to believe I could ever truly get away? They owned me for almost ten years. Marked me with their tattoo. Of course they wouldn't let me go so easily, even after I paid for my freedom.

I glance back again, but he's gone. Melted into the crowd or slipped out. It doesn't matter. The threat remains.

This means it's only a matter of time before more show up. Maybe that was just a warning. Maybe next time it'll be worse.

My eyes find Declan across the room. He's deep in conversation with one of his fighters, unaware that my world is crumbling around me. For a wild moment, I consider telling him. Asking for help.

But then what? Become a pawn in his game instead? Trade one master for another?

And there's the Albanians to consider. They'd hurt anyone who stood in their way. I've seen what they do to people who interfere with their property.

Because that's what I am to them. Property. A valuable asset they want back.

No, I can't drag Declan into this. He doesn't deserve my shit.

I need to disappear. Tonight. If he asks next time he calls, I'll tell Declan I got a call about a job in another city. A temporary thing. Or a family emergency. Something believable but vague. By the time he realizes I'm not coming back, I'll be gone.

I'm probably overreacting. He won't question it. He probably won't even care.

The thought of leaving him makes my chest ache in a way I wasn't expecting. I've never let myself get attached to anyone since the Albanians took me. I'm damaged goods anyway. What man would want a woman who's barren?

My heart sinks. I'm not just running from the Albanians tonight.

I'm running from the only man who ever made me feel like staying might be worth the risk. The only one who saw through my wall and stuck around, in his own way.

The main event finishes with a knockout that brings the crowd to its feet and I jolt as it brings me out of my thoughts.

As people begin filing out, I pack my supplies. Just get through the next hour. Smile. Nod. Act normal. Then go home, grab what you need, and vanish.