Page 11 of Born into Darkness

I don’t have to say anything, though, because the boss quickly says, “I have plans for her that don’t concern you.”

I wonder what those plans are while Mateo convinces his dad to let Val go. I still haven’t figured out Mateo. He hasn’t spoken to me since my first day here, and he barely ever looks at me. I would never call him a nice man, but he doesn’t seem to be sadistic like his guards are. I have no doubt he can be vicious, but I’ve yet to see that side of him, and I hope like hell I never do.

My heart breaks when I hear the gut-wrenching yell that Val gives when they try to separate him from his cousin. He begs them to release Max instead, lunging his broken body at his cousin, who quickly wraps his arms around him in a hug. Watching their pain has me choking on a sob, but I push through the sadness and grief, and instead focus on the fact that he’s going to be released soon. He’ll be on the outside, which means he can contact my family.

With tears running down my face, I scoot closer and squeeze Val’s hand trying to get his attention. When he opens his one good eye, I quickly whisper in Russian, begging him to get in touch with my dad. “Find Vasily Medvedev and tell him everything that’s happened.” Desperate to know he’ll do it, I ask him to promise me, but before he can answer, he’s pulled away from us.

“It’s okay, Val. I’ll be fine,” Max tells him, trying to make his cousin feel better, and I think I fall in love with the man next to me right then and there. His only concern is making his cousin feel better, not wanting him to be weighed down with guilt and haunted by a decision that was always going to be beyond his control.

We both watch as Val is forced from the room. He disappears from view, and I hear the shaky breath Max gives. Miguel gives a soft laugh, kicking Max’s foot on his way past before shutting off the light and leaving us in darkness.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, scooting closer now that we’re alone.

“I’m glad he’s free,” Max says. His words are thick with emotion, but I can hear the truth in them. “Yel needs him, and he wouldn’t have lasted much longer.”

I keep scooting closer until I feel the weight of his body pressed against my side. When I grab his hand and rest my head on his shoulder, he threads his fingers through mine and whispers, “Besides, I couldn’t leave you here alone.”

“If you have the chance to leave, you have to take it,” I tell him.

“We’re leaving together, Talia. I won’t leave you here alone.”

I can tell by his tone that it’s useless to argue, so I don’t waste my strength. Instead, I keep myself pressed against the warmth of his body, both of us taking comfort from the other while we can. Once the doors open again, I’ll scurry away so no one can see how close we’ve become and use it against us, but for now, I keep my hand in his, trying not to worry about how badly he’s hurt. I can’t let myself think about being left alone in this place. He’s a comfort I hadn’t been expecting, and now I can’t imagine surviving this hellhole without him.

We leave this place together or not at all. I refuse to accept any other outcome.

Chapter1

Maxim

When I come to, the first thing I see is a pair of dark, terrified eyes watching me. Talia’s face is hovering over mine, and the worry in them has me immediately trying to comfort her.

“I’m fine,” I whisper. My voice is rough, my throat so dry it hurts, and every part of my body is screaming at me. I’ve never been in so much pain in my life, and I’m not sure how many more beatings I can take. This last one had me blacking out, and it’s the first time Miguel’s ever taken it this far. He’s pissed that Val’s no longer here, and he’s mad about all the times Mateo’s forced him to quit during a beating. The man is out for blood, and he’s determined to get it. I don’t think he’ll be happy until my dead body is lying at his feet.

“Here. Drink this,” Talia says, cupping the back of my head to lift me while she brings her bottle of water to my lips.

“No,” I start to say, refusing to take some of her water, even if it is just a mouthful. We aren’t given enough of it, and we’re both dehydrated.

“Yes,” she insists, tipping the bottle up so I have no choice but to take a drink or let it go to waste. Drinking it makes me feel guilty enough, but just letting her sacrifice drip onto the floor is a wastefulness that I can’t bring myself to do. When I open my mouth and accept what she’s offering, I see the relief in her eyes. After I’ve taken two drinks, I start to lift up, refusing to take another drop. She pulls back the bottle and rests her hand on my chest.

“Don’t move yet. You need to rest. Does anything feel broken?”

I’d laugh if I wasn’t in so much pain. “Everything,” I say, mustering up enough strength to give her a small smile. I’m fairly confident I have several cracked ribs, but aside from that I don’t think anything is broken. I move my fingers, reminding myself that they’re still unharmed. I can tolerate everything else as long as my hands are okay. It takes my sluggish brain a few minutes to realize the light is still on. They always shut the light off when they leave, but if it’s on, then that means we aren’t alone.

“Fuck,” I whisper, turning my head to look around the room. Miguel grins at me from the doorway. He’s leaning against it, gun in hand, and an amused look in his dark eyes. He’s watching Talia, noticing the way she’s trying to take care of me, and I know he’s already thinking of ways to use this against me.

“He can’t see you helping me,” I tell her in Russian, but it’s too late. Before she can scoot away, Miguel gives a soft laugh and flicks the lights off before slamming the door shut behind him. I groan at the thought of him hurting her to get to me, the very idea of it making me feel like I’m going to be sick. I’ve never felt so helpless in my life, and it’s slowly making me feel like I’m losing my mind. The darkness that’s like a thick blanket weighing me down, the fear that something will happen to the woman next to me—all of it works together to make me feel like I’m going insane.

“Goddammit,” I growl, wishing I could get her out of here and hating that I can’t.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I screamed your name when you passed out, and when he dragged you over, I crawled over to help. I wasn’t thinking. I was too scared and worried about you. Please don’t be mad.”

Hearing the pain in her voice hurts worse than the beating I just took. I reach up to where her face was before the lights went out, not at all surprised to find that she’s still hovering over me. We’ve only ever held hands, but this time I cup her face, running my thumb over her cheek, feeling the tears as they hit my skin.

“I’m not mad at you, Talia. I just don’t want him to hurt you.”

More tears wet my fingers as her hand wraps around my wrist. I feel her lean into my palm before the heat of her soft breath hits my skin.

“Please don’t cry,” I tell her.

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