Page 122 of Unexpected Heroine

To be honest, I’m unsure what Tomer’s even hunting for. The specific men who hurt me? The head of the mafia? The people in charge like Skidmark and... him?

I’ve tried to avoid thinking about it too much since every time I do, he appears in my mind. Front and center.

Viktor.

And then turbulent sensations overwhelm me, pelting me one after the other—nausea, repulsion, shame.

One breath, and I’m right back there. In the windowless room. I can smell him. Feel him.

My stomach pitches and rolls. A bitter taste fills my mouth. The pain suddenly feels so fresh. Every spot on my body where he touched me burns now as if he’s still gripping me roughly. Even my scalp hurts from how he yanked my hair to force me to look at him.

“Look at me while I fuck you, slut.

In the here and now, I want to close my eyes. To hide from everything. But when I shut them, I see him.

Over me.

Breathe, Lettie. In and out. In and out.

Unaware of my impending panic attack since he can’t see much more than the top of my head on his chest, Tomer drones flatly. I cling to his voice to keep from slipping away. “Savin gave us a few names. After you fall asleep, I’ll dig into them more. Don’t worry. I won’t leave you. I’ll work on my laptop from here. He wouldn’t reveal the higher-ups in Lenkov’s organization who oversee the trafficking ring.”

Trafficking ring. I was being prepped to be trafficked. Sold like cattle.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

“Going into WITSEC,” he continues.

He’s being so uncharacteristically open with me. Just rambling along his plans like we’re talking about the weather.

Meanwhile, I’m over here, heart and mind racing like mad. About to break out in a cold sweat or throw-up. Probably both.

Yet I can’t find the words to tell him to stop. I’m mute, sinking into a dark abyss in my own mind.

“Lenkov’s people have their slimy fingers in all kinds of horrific shit, so it’s hard to know which ones to go after first.”

Doesn’t he feel my heart thrashing? A thrumming sound, loud and fast, vibrates through my eardrums.

Womp, womp, womp, womp.

It’s so loud I feel it in my chest.

Womp, womp, womp, womp.

It’s almost as nauseating as the memories I’m working so damn hard to stave off.

“Now I have to go after the low-ranking fuckers. Work them over to get more names. It’s gonna take time...”

His voice fades away, thankfully. Only I think it’s because I’m about to pass out.

Or black out.

All the stressful events of the day have piled up on my shoulders, and now they’re pushing me down.

Womp, womp, womp, womp.

My heart rate spikes so sharply I feel it pulsing all over my body.

Womp, womp, womp, womp.

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