ANA
Pain. All I know is pain, half-sensible, twisted into a position that no one should hold for this long, every muscle in my body aching.
Voices, someone’s saying my name in an accent that I don’t recognize, that doesn’t sound like anyone I know.
A stranger.
Hands, undoing the ropes. Bringing me down, the blessed feeling of being free, and then the rush of blood to all the places where my circulation couldn’t reach, sending new waves of pain over me, through me, until I would scream with it if I could make a sound. Something inside of me is screaming, but that’s nothing new. I feel as if I’ve been screaming for months now, so long that I can’t remember what it’s like not to hear it in my head, ever since Franco took that knife to my feet, shredding the soles and burning the wounds.
What Alexei has done almost feels like child’s play compared to that. Just another man, profiting off of the suffering of others. The whole world is full of them. I see that now.
More hands, lifting me, carrying me. The feel of cool leather under my cheek, the smell of an expensive car. Cold air, and then the car’s moving, around corners and over bumpy roads until I want to be sick, but I don’t have the strength.
I don’t think I’ll have the strength ever again.
I wish I could just die.
The hands again, lifting me out of the car. Up, up stairs, more leather against my arms and legs, those hands settling me into a seat. My eyes focusing just long enough to see a strange, handsome face hovering over mine and a rich, thick accent speaking to me. He’s so attractive that it startles me, because I haven’t seen anyone like that in a long time. Someone whose good looks aren’t overshadowed by the evil in their soul that I can see so clearly, because they don’t bother to hide it.
Franco was like that.
Alexei was like that.
Who is this man? Why is he looking at me like that, as if he’s worried for me? Doesn’t he know that Alexei will be back any minute, and he’ll be in trouble?I’llbe in trouble.
“We’ll be home soon,” he says, in that same voice, that strange accent. It sounds French.
But no one working for Alexei is French, as far as I know.
I don’t know how to tell him that I no longer have a home. My apartment is gone. My life is gone. But my lips and tongue still aren’t working, my body paralyzed, and I slump back into the seat as someone pulls a soft blanket over me. It feels better than anything has in a long time, soft and warm like cashmere, and I want to tell whoever it is that they shouldn’t, that he’ll be angry.
Alexei.
I don’t want to make him angry.
The roar of an engine, the feeling of lifting, soaring, and then the exhaustion of it all creeps over me, and my head falls to one side as my eyelids slide shut again.
Am I falling asleep, or am I dying?
I can’t bring myself to care.
* * *
The soundof birds is what wakes me. I open my eyes slowly, blinking away the last of sleep as I struggle to wake up all the way. My face feels puffy, my eyes dry and sticky, and my tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth, which feels as if it’s been stuffed with cotton.
I don’t know where I am.
There were no birds at the mountain chalet. At least, I’m pretty sure that there weren’t. Alexei didn’t let us out to see.
Alexei. Fear rises up in me, hot and sharp, and I feel like I’m going to throw up. I push myself upright, feeling pain shoot through me as I wrap my arms around my stomach, trying not to be sick. I’m not even sure if I can stand up, and I don’t want to be sick all over the bed.
My eyes focus a little more, taking in more of my surroundings, anything to distract myself.This is nothing like the room at the chalet, I realize, reaching out with one hand to smooth it over the bedspread. It’s a floral chintz, blue and white, and there are pillows to match, tossed on a wing chair by the window. I turn slowly, pressing my hand against the pillow I’d slept on, and my hand sinks into it.
Down. Luxurious and soft. Another one next to it, as if I might need two.
There was nothing like this in the room that Alexei kept us in–me, Caterina, Sofia, Sasha, and Caterina’s two stepdaughters. My heart squeezes in my chest as I wonder what’s happened to them, if they were sold, if Viktor ever showed up as Caterina had so stubbornly believed that he would.
If he had—if he and Liam and the others had come to our rescue, it was too late for me.