My mouth feels like it’s filled with sand.
At least they haven’t started the actual torture. Right now, it’s all mind games.
I move to sit up, but that’s when I realize my hands are still secured together.
That’s right.
They allowed me to sleep on the floor but still tied my hands.
A faint noise seems to echo through the air. It’s so soft that at first, I think it might be nothing more than a figment of my imagination, but then it grows louder—footsteps brisk and deliberate.
Someone is coming.
My eyes dart around the room as I strain to see anything that could give me the upper hand. But I can’t concentrate over the sound of my thundering heart.
Every minute feels like an eternity, and every second brings with it a new wave of terror.
They didn’t hurt me.But that was before; will they hurt me now?
What do I do?
Defend myself in some way.
I scan around desperately for something—anything—that might be used as a weapon but find nothing.
Just then, the door swings open, and someone advances into the room.
The light from the tiny bulb flickers, and as the person turns in my direction, oxygen escapes my mouth.
Matt.
He found me, but how?
When I was taken from my apartment, he must have seen them. I had told him I was going to stop there, and he must have decided to meet me instead of waiting for me to come to him.
In the span of only a few moments, hope blossoms in my chest like a rose unfurling its petals.
“Matt,” I whisper out into the darkness.
“Shh,” he responds, crossing the space to get to me.
My head shakes back and forth. “The men—”
“The guard stepped out.”
“I—you found me.” I throw myself into his chest and cry tears of relief. “We have to get out of here.”
“I’ll get you out of here, Sasha. But I’m not going to lie, your life—” His words stop, and he pushes me back, looking down into my eyes. “You said on the phone that Roman stole money from them. Do you know where his money is?”
“I don’t have it. That’s the thing that no one understands. I don’t have this man’s money. I never did. Roman gave me nothing. Trust me, Matt—”
I wasn’t awake when they brought me here, but I doubt the Russian Bratva’s lair is easy to infiltrate.
“How did you get in here?” The accusation in my tone is tough to hide.
There’s no way a place likely well-guarded just allowed a detective to waltz in.
“I’m a detective, Sasha. I do this for a living. We’ve been watching this place for some time. I know the schedule.”