Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 22973 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 115(@200wpm)___ 92(@250wpm)___ 77(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22973 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 115(@200wpm)___ 92(@250wpm)___ 77(@300wpm)
“Something’s wrong,” Alexa said, but her voice didn’t sound like her own.
“I’m calling for help,” Vasilisa said, and Alexa knew it wasn’t the official kind of police help … but the Bratva help.
Alexa tried to think of what was wrong, but with each passing second her mind felt like slush filled it. Vasilisa was in front of her saying something, but Alexa couldn’t make out the words.
“What?” Was that her voice? Distorted and woozy sounding?
“I’m going to get ahold of Yvgeny.”
It was hard to make out the words Vasilisa said, but she got the meaning well enough.
“Just get me home. I think I need to sleep this off. I shouldn’t have had that last beer.”
That last beer.
Realization slammed into her. She realized that guy in the club had given her last beer to her. Had he slipped something into it? She tried to think of the events in detail, but it was hard with her mind feeling like it was in slow motion. But then she thought about him dropping his wallet, and her picking it up. She had taken her eyes off the drink, and that had been her mistake.
“Yvgeny, we’re at Odin-Dva, and something’s wrong with Alexa—”
Alexa tried to focus.
“Shit, the phone cut out.”
“Need help?” the male voice behind her was deep and slurred.
Alexa tried to turn around, but her body was so heavy.
“No, we’re fine,” Vasilisa said, her voice seeming distinct.
Alexa did see him then … the guy who had knocked into her then bought her the beer.
“No,” she said, but the word was thick, and she didn’t know if she’d thought it or actually said it.
“She doesn’t look fine,” the guy said again. “Need help to a car or something?”
Before anything could be said or done, the guy had hold of her arm and was walking her toward the parking lot. Alexa looked at Vasilisa, and she looked hesitant, keeping next to her, with her phone by her ear.
“Where’s the car?” he asked.
“Over there,” Vasilisa said, pointing in the distance.
But as they passed by the alley that was behind the club, he tightened his hold on Alexa’s arm and yanked Vasilisa toward him. Alexa struggled, trying to scream, but she couldn’t form a word. Her throat was too thick. She looked at Vasilisa. He had a hand on her mouth, and as he dragged them down the darkened alley, fear took root in Alexa.
She struggled, using all of her strength, but knowing it was fruitless.
“I’m not into redheads,” he grunted out as Vasilisa kicked and tried to get out of his hold. He let go of Alexa, but by then her legs were filled with pudding and she couldn’t stand. She fell to the ground, throwing up as the dizziness became too much for her to bear.
Alexa tried to stand, tried to go to Vasilisa, but a second later she heard the sound of slapping, a hard thump, and then Vasilisa was beside her on the ground. Her lip was bleeding, as was her nose.
Alexa tried to stand, but he had her off the ground.
“Oh, no you don’t. We’re just getting started.”
Alexa felt herself pressed against the side of the building, and then she felt a wet mouth latched on to her throat.
She tried to push him away, tried to scream, but nothing came out.
“I saw you in the club and had to have you,” he groaned against her throat. He smelled of cigarettes and alcohol, an even further nauseating stench. “You taste so good, baby.” He ran his tongue up her throat and kissed the side of her mouth.
“No,” she managed to say. She turned her head and tried to push him away, but her arms were far too heavy to lift.
“Stop,” she said with more force than she thought she had. She even brought her leg up, trying to get him in the crotch, but he blocked it and pressed his body more firmly against hers.
“Careful. I don’t want to hurt you like the redheaded bitch.” He kissed the side of her neck again.
It was like she was there, experiencing it, but then again she wasn’t. Her mind knew what was happening, but she couldn’t bring her body to stop it, to fight back. “Stop. You’ll be sorry,” she managed to say.
His fingers pressed painfully into the flesh of her side, and she cried out in pain. One of his hands held her head immobile while the other snaked its way between her breasts, over her belly, and stopped right before he got between her thighs. Her arms felt like lead plates, and coupled with his strength, she knew what was bound to happen, knew she couldn’t stop it.
And while all this happened she wondered if Vasilisa was okay. How badly had he hurt her? Alexa needed to get help, but how?
Another wave of dizziness and nausea swept over her. She was on the edge of passing out. She knew it, could feel it.