Page 26 of The Contract

Across from me, the Russian shifts another curtain aside, exposing a second door. He’s already halfway through, stepping into a pitch black hallway, though it’s not dark enough to hide the gleam of a shiny padlock hanging from the latch.

My life flashes before my eyes.

The next headline waiting to happen.

True crime’s newest darling.

“Wait!”

CHAPTER 7

Riley

The beast of a Russian stops in his tracks and turns.

The second he does, my brain instantly regrets my mouth’s decision to cry out for mercy.

“Fuck you!”

That’s what I should’ve said.

Or Go to hell.

Or I’d rather bleed than beg.

But no. What came out?

Wait.

His eyes lock on mine, dark and unreadable.

A wolf weighing the rabbit’s next move.

Will she run? Or kneel?

And from the way his mouth curves, so fucking sure of himself, he’s good either way.

I lick my dry lips, nerves on edge. Am I really doing this?

God, I hate myself for giving in.

Then I look around—really look.

Pretty walls.

Opulent furniture.

Zero windows.

Where the only person who hears you scream… is you.

It’s not just a prison. It’s a coffin.

The question isn’t am I really doing this?

It’s—what other choice do I fucking have?

A dizzying wave of walls-closing-in hits me. I wrap both arms around myself to stave off another round of hyperventilation.