Page 127 of Savage Enemy

Panic clamped down on my heart. Tears spilled down my cheeks. I smashed my hand over my mouth to keep from screaming or vomiting or both.

“Why kill the kid?” the guy asked.

I noted how his voice was moving farther away.

They must have been heading to one of the living rooms. I just needed to stay quiet for a few more minutes.

“Because I can,” Aris said, “and my father won’t stop me.”

I got out of my hiding place without them seeing me, but no way could I get upstairs without crossing in front of them. So I searched again for a better weapon.

Something much sharper that could do enough damage to kill without much force.

I fished through the drawer and swapped my knife for one with a sharper point, though it also had a dull blade. No slicing then. I would have to use the pointy end to stab him.

If he were asleep, I could jab upward between his ribs and into his heart. Oh, but Aris didn’t have a heart, or at least not one large enough for me to reach with this blade.

“The fuck you think you’re doing, bitch?” Aris growled.

I startled, almost jumping out of my skin.

Oh god, no, I must’ve made noise while rummaging, or he came in for another beer. Either way, I didn’t hear him come in.

As I whirled around to face him, I hid the knife behind my back, wedging it between my robe and my nightgown. At least I didn’t have to worry about the dull blade cutting the fabric.

I wouldn’t win a knife fight with him. Even if I could beat him, he had a gun tucked into his pants.

My heart slammed against my bones as if breaking out.

“I’m hungry,” I said. “And I wanted one last decent meal before I’m forced to live on borscht and fish eggs.”

Aris took a menacing step closer, his cold eyes warning me.

“Has anyone ever told you what a terrible liar you are?”

I backed away from his advance.

“I’m not lying, Aris. I don’t like Russian food.”

It felt like we were twelve again, and he was coming to take out his anger on smaller, weaker me.

“No one gives a fuck what you like. You were safe in your room, you stupid cunt. Marco saw to that earlier. You shouldn’t have come down here.”

I tried to reason with him, not sure why. It had never worked before. What alternative was there?

“Fine. Then I’ll just go back upstairs like Marco said.”

He took more steps forward.

“Too late for that, sister.”

I kept my body facing him, the knife beneath my robe, behind my back. My muscles twitched to draw the knife on him, but I would fail to protect myself. He would see it coming. I clenched my fingers even tighter.

“You can’t touch me,” I said. “I belong to the Russians now. They don’t want any more bruises on me.”

“The Russians bought you as a whore, and we all know whores come in ‘as is’ condition.” He shrugged. “I don’t think they’ll notice as long as you’re still breathing.”

He pounced on me then, grabbed me by the throat, and threw me to the floor. I landed on my back. Pain shot along my spine, and the wind burst from my lungs as he laughed.

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