Page 148 of Ripped Lace (Ripped Bratva)

I don’t bother answering. I’m sitting on a thick mattress shoved into a dusty corner. Josiah is closer than I’d like, but the room is small enough that there’s not much room to scoot away from him.

“Are we still in the club?” I ask.

“As a matter of fact, we are,” he says. “They have all sorts of accommodations here. Unfortunately, you’ve got the worst room in the building.”

“I didn’t come for bed and breakfast,” I snap at him.

I’m not bound. Definitely not gagged. I can try to run or fight back if I choose. But everything feels so heavy and slow. Just raising my eyes to meet his feels like a Herculean task.

“Something the matter?” Josiah inquires.

“Why do I feel so strange?”

“Do you, my dear?”

He takes a step forward and I back away instantly. I press my back to the rear wall and glare at him with disgust.

“Come now, Elyssa. I thought you and I were close.”

“Which just goes to show you how delusional you are.”

Josiah just sighs. Now that I know what he is, it’s hard to see anything but a monster.

But if I concentrate really hard, I can see why so many were so deceived by the man. His face is carved in straight lines and good intentions. He plays his part to perfection.

Does he believe his own lies, I wonder?

“You have spent too long outside of the warm embrace of the Sanctuary. This is why I’ve always said that the outside world has a way of corrupting a woman’s soul.”

“Is that right?” I ask. “Does the Garden count as the outside world?”

“No, of course not. The Garden is a haven for enlightenment and reform. It’s a place for new beginnings.”

“Are you insane?”

“Elyssa, my frightened doe—”

“No, I’m genuinely asking. You know what they do there, surely?”

“We rehabilitate young women,” Josiah replies sternly. “We give them a chance at a better life. Where they can start again and be self-sufficient.”

“It’s a cattle shed,” I hiss. “A clearinghouse for women who are about to be sold into sex slavery.”

Josiah’s expression crumples into irritation. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not lying. It’s the truth. You know it!”

“You’ve been brainwashed, Elyssa,” he tells me. “I can see the delusion in your eyes.”

I actually want to laugh. The irony is too much.

“Where is my son?” I snap, unable to continue this conversation any longer. “You must know where he is.”

“I do know,” he says. “And don’t worry—he’ll be taken care of.”

“What does that mean?” I ask desperately.

“It means that he’s not your concern anymore, Elyssa, darling,” Josiah continues. He moves closer still. I try to inch away from him, but the weight in my body only seems to be getting heavier.

---