Page 10 of Refrain

A revolting mixture of horror and pity floods my veins. I know those marks. How the wounds sting and burn as they heal. How the resulting scars swell against the skin like snakes. My fingertips run over my inner thighs without permission, sensing the uneven ridges of flesh.

I must have made a sound, because he turns, his eyes darkening when he realizes what I’ve seen. Before he can adjust his shirt, the door opens and Vlad storms in.

“We need to reschedule,” he says brusquely. “Here. So that your friend doesn’t forget our generosity.” He reaches into his pocket and withdraws a roll of cash he shoves against the other man’s palm.

“Why?” Blue Eyes accepts the money, but his feet drift apart, opening his stance. “Something wrong?”

“Change of plans,” Vlad says. “Just some fucking pigs causing trouble. Didier will discuss your…friend’sfuture business before seeing you out.”

The stranger doesn’t even glance back at me before leaving. I follow him, keeping my head down, my eyes averted from Vlad.Focus,Grey would warn.Don’t break your cover, no matter what.My foot breaches the threshold the moment a hand seizes my shoulder and yanks me back.

“Oh, no, you don’t. Not you.”

The door slams, and I’m wrenched around, forced to bear the full brunt of Vlad’s scrutiny. His gaze skims over my shoulder, and a chilling grin shapes his mouth.

“Number ten. Itisyou. What? You thought I wouldn’t notice? You can change your hair or fix your face, but you can’t take the whore out of the bitch, can you?” He sounds smugger in Russianthan he ever could in English. “Couldn’t get enough of Piotr’s cock, could you, Ksei?”

My pulse hammers in my ears. The bed is the only barrier big enough to scramble behind and put between us.Fight,Grey would hiss. My hand slaps my thigh, registering the absence of my gun. Shit. Something glimmers from the corner of my eye, so I grab it. The ashtray. My fingers tighten over the awkward shape as I raise it between Vlad and me.

He’s already snatching his butcher’s knife from his back pocket. With one hand, he tears off the leather sheath covering the blade. “What I really want to know is—Who helped you?” He bares his teeth in a vicious snarl the moment I flinch. “You think I’m stupid? You couldn’t have survived this long on your own. So, who?”

“Maybe you’re not as untouchable as you think?” I counter, but he’s right. I didn’t survive Piotr on my own—and I’d rather die than betray my benefactor.

“Is that so? Speaking oftouching, Piotr’s missed you,” he tells me, hefting the blade so that the edge catches the light. “I called him—”

“What?” I step back. Air won’t go into my throat. The room caves in, the walls looming closer.Focus…

“I refreshed his memory,” Vlad says, his voice distorted, coming from a million directions at once. “There’s only one bitch I remember with a face like that. I thought he killed you, Piotr. I spent a week scrubbing your brains from my shoes, after all. You were always his favorite, sneaky little Ksei. But I don’t think he’d mind if we have some fun, no?”

He lunges. Lightning fast, Vlad aims lower, and I lash out, nails drawn, in a vain attempt to block the blow. I strike flesh, but so does he.Pain.I double over. Fire sears my every nerve ending as something wet and warm dribbles down my arm, coating my fingers and threatening my grip on the ashtray.

“Just as feisty as always,” Vlad admits. He swipes at hisforehead with a meaty hand and hisses to discover that I’ve drawn blood. “You always did cause more trouble than you were worth—”

“Like Anna?”

He chuckles at the name, shaking his head. “A friend of yours?”

“Don’t play dumb.” I swallow hard, eyeing the blade. Pain disrupts my focus, consuming every nerve in its path. I blink, and one sneering monster splits into four, cackling from every corner of the room. “Where is she? I know you remember her. Iknowshe’s here—”

“Anna…” He contorts the name around his tongue and then spits onto the floor at my feet. “I think I recall one girl with that name. Small. Pretty little girl. If I remember correctly, Piotr threw her out, along with the rest of the trash you called family.”

Red.It’s all I see, swallowing Vlad as he swings at me again. But my arm flies out as well. A sickening thud warns me that one of us struck true this time. Him? No. Groaning, he stiffens. Staggers. Falls.

I’m over him in an instant, adjusting my grip over the ashtray as he clutches his head. “Where is she?”

“You little—”

“Where?” I hit him again, startling him mid-curse.

He merely laughs, focusing his gaze on me. “Dead. She’s fucking dead—”

I hit him again. My movements devolve into a frantic motion of my hands rising and lowering over and over. No matter how many times I strike, he’s still laughing at me. Taunting me.

“You’ll never find her,” he sneers. “She’s dead. A ghost. All this time, you were chasing a ghost—”

Vibrations ricochet through my body. Footsteps. I heft the ashtray, ready to strike. But the figure staring at me is all wrong. His face is too pretty. His eyes are too blue, widening at the sight of me.

I look down and discover why. My fingers are slippery, caked in warmth. They loosen their grip on the ashtray, and it falls only to bounce against a shapeless lump smeared in red.

---