Page 101 of Demitri

She chuckles, and I can’t help but join her.

“No. I don’t think that’s wrong.”

“I feel betrayed. I feel like they used me like a fucking puppet. Pulled my strings and made me do things I might not have done otherwise.”

“Do you really feel that? Or are you upset that they omitted the entire truth to you?”

“I don’t know.”

“It’s okay that you don’t know. Makes you human, Dem. I think you need time to process everything. You wanted to hear him out, so do that. Then get away from them for a little while. Sort through your feelings and figure out what you need to know more than the rest. Start there.”

“Thank you.”

I pull her in tighter and close my eyes, taking a deep breath.

When I wake up, I’m in a room I don’t recognize. Alone. I’m in a chair, with my arms bound behind me and my legs tied. There’sa desk, one of those old things that looks like it’s about to rust through. No lights are on, but there’s a window letting in the fading light of day. Or it’s so covered it looks later than it is, I can’t tell. Two doors, one leading to what has to be the exit and one that I’m guessing is either a bathroom or a closet. I check in on my body, and nothing seems to be broken. I feel a bit sluggish, but not too bad.

I practice the breathing exercises Mia showed me that help her through a panic attack. I’m sure my family has something to do with this, and the last thing I can afford to do now is panic. I test the bonds on my hands and arms. Tied with precision, of course. I’m not getting out of them. My legs are bound as well, but looser. I know this tactic, of course. They can’t play someone who watched the game for as long as me. I know the loose ties are to make me think I can escape. But, really, it just means someone is planning pain.

I try to feel my back pocket for my phone, but it’s gone. Not a surprise. It’s a shame I don’t have one of those watches Joker gave Mia. That would come in handy right about now. I’m being a sarcastic ass to myself to pass the time when the door finally opens.

“Look, theprintzis awake. It’s my lucky day.”

“Andrey. I’m so surprised to see you.”

“Poshyol te nakhuy.”

“No thanks.” I smirk, antagonizing him.

“I promised you I’d make you pay for turning on the family.” He grins at me. It’s evil and makes my skin crawl. “And now I can.”

“You know, if you kill me, you’ll never see the money.”

“Who said I was going to kill you? Today anyway.”

He moves close, so close I can smell the alcohol oozing from his pours, the sweat stench in his clothes. He looks like he’s aged twenty years in the last five. Time has not been kind to him.

“Aren’t you supposed to let my dear sister talk to me and tell me what she wants before you start hurting me?”

That gives him pause. But not for nearly enough time. “I’ll make sure you still have your tongue when she gets here.”

Well, fuck.

He grabs my left hand, and I’m not sure what’s worse. Not being able to see what he’s doing and knowing it’s going to hurt, or if I could see.

When he twists my pinky and I feel the pop of it breaking, the pain momentarily takes my breath away. Yeah, not knowing and being able to prepare is way worse. But I don’t give him the satisfaction of hearing me cry out in pain. He’s forgotten who raised me.

“One down. Nine more to go.” He chuckles behind me, grabbing the second finger and bending it until it also breaks.

Pain shoots up my hand into my arm, and I flinch, but don’t give him any more than that. I refuse to let him see that he’s got any control over me, even if we both know he has all of it.

“Oh, you already started.” Katya tsks as she comes into the room. “What a shame.”

“Hello, dearsestra,” I say through gritted teeth.

“Bratt,” she replies. “We haven’t been formally introduced yet, have we?”

“Is that necessary? I figure why waste the time when you’re just going to let Andrey here kill me when you get what you want.”

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