Page 7 of The Bronze Garza
Lyra
The door bursts open and lightfloods the room.
“Get up!” Igor growls. “Pack some things. You leave now.”
Sitting up in the bunk bed, I yawn and rub my eyes, but don’t bother moving because I know he doesn’t mean me. I’ve not been out of this penthouse since I was brought into it, dizzied and incoherent.
As the other two girls in the bunk across from mine starts to clamber out, he tells them, “No, not you two.” Then jabs a finger at me. “You.”
I blink from momentary shock.Me? Leave? To go where?
“Move,svin’ya. Now!”
Igor’s bark jolts me from my stupor into action. As he stomps away, I jump down from the top bunk, then halt at the sight of the empty bottom bunk.
Although it’s been over a week since Kristie left me behind, it still hits me like a ton of bricks each time I jump down from the top bunk and find the bottom bunk empty. I know she’s at peace now,free, but that doesn’t mean I don’t miss her. She was the only one I connected with here.
With a wistful sigh, I pad to the front of the room and grab a backpack from the communal bin next to the dresser. I’ve never had to use any of these bags before, because, again, I’veneverbeen chosen to leave. Whatever “leave” even means right now.
I toss in several lingerie sets and my heels. Two lip-glosses and a face powder. Everything is free use for all to share. As I go to throw in one of the hairbrushes, Tessa snaps, “You can’t take that one. It’s the only brush that works for my hair.”
“Whatever,” I mumble, and pick up a wide-tooth comb instead.
I change out of my nightgown into one of the two skank dresses that were given to me, then pad into the bathroom and freshen up before packing my toothbrush and moisturizer as well.
Once I’m done, I start to leave the room but then stop and turn. Tessa and Danielle are sitting up in bed, watching me with strange expressions.
I pad over to their bed, lower my voice, and ask, “Any idea where they might be taking me?”
Tessa lays back down and pulls the blanket over her head.
Danielle shrugs, and there’s pity in her voice when she replies, “First floor, maybe. Kimbella said she overheard Igor telling Oleg that he was thinking about moving you and Simone down there.”
I suck in a sharp breath, then exhale on a wave of acceptance. Of course. It was bound to happen. I’ve been here sixteen months and still haven’t proved myself “worth the investment”—Igor’s words. I’d been hoping to be offered back to my family for a ransom, but seeing as I’m far from being “used up,” being a low performer and all, of course he’s not going to let me off that easy. Imagine being in a situation where being “used up” increases your chances of survival.
Nodding, I turn and plod dejectedly out of the room.
As I shuffle down the hall, I can hear Igor’s harsh voice, growling at someone. He’s been in a violent mood since Kristie’s death. I’ve been staying out of his way and complying without backtalk. I may be the most unmalleable Diamond Girl, more trouble than I’m worth, but I do know when to act out and when to fall back.
The last time Igor was in a mood like this, he slammed a girl against the wall and strangled her until she turned blue and went limp. We’d thought for sure she was dead.
Fortunately, she survived.
Entering the main area, I see Simone waiting with a backpack of her own, flanked by Viktor and Oleg, and my stomach sinks. A small part of me had hoped against hope that Danielle’s “first floor” assumption wasn’t true.
Judging from her scowl, Simone isn’t happy to see me either. Anyone would’ve imagined that Simone and I would be the ones who bonded, considering we’re the only two Diamond Girls labeled as a “bad investment,” and are constantly glowered upon with resentment and disappointment by Igor. We’re the black sheep. The low performers. The rarely chosen.
But, just like the others, she’s desperate to please Igor. To gain his approval. As far as she’s concerned, I’m her competition.
The girl disappoints me.
Igor marches into the room and waves his hands dismissively, impatiently. “Take them. Go. Go! Worst investment I ever made, these two. Worthless. Just worthless!”
As Viktor and Oleg start to lead us out, Igor grabs my upper arm, digging his fingers into my flesh as he snarls, “Try anything like yourglupyyfriend and I will slit your throat myself.”
I don’t know what “glupyy” means, but coming from him, it can’t be anything good. And since I don’t appreciateanyonetalking bad about Kristie, I hiss at him like a snake, baring my teeth and jerking my arm from his grip.
Then, I brace myself, expecting him to backhand me.
