empty. No place to hide. I could still hear the footsteps behind me, moving through the room I’d just left. Shit!
I hurried into the next room...and stopped dead.
The walls were lined with lockers. A TV on the wall was blaring and there was an ashtray on the table, smoke still rising from a butt. It must be the break room, where the guards hung out between patrols. And now the ones right on my tail were coming back here.
And it was a dead end.
Time seemed to stretch out. My eyes searched the room for a door I’d missed, a hatch...anything that would let me escape. But there was nothing. The guards would be there in seconds, and they’d catch me. And they’d know that, to get there, I must have gone straight through the room with the weapon crates. There’d be no chance of “ Oh, I was looking for a bathroom!” They’d take me straight to Luka, and he’d think back to how he’d found me in his room in New York, and he’d realize what I really was.
My eyes fell on the lockers. That’s ridiculous. If I hid there, I’d be trapped until they left.
The footsteps were right behind me. I pulled open the nearest locker and flung myself inside, pulling the door shut behind me.
Two guards strolled in. Now that we were out at sea, they didn’t have to hide the fact they were armed. Both of them had stubby sub-machine guns slung around their necks.
They slumped down into cheap plastic chairs that creaked under their muscled bulk. They had the same crew cuts and powerful bodies as the others I’d seen, definitely ex-soldiers. One was blond and one dark, but otherwise they could have been brothers. Bored, they glanced up at the soccer game on the TV and lit cigarettes.
In the locker, I tried to breathe silently. There were vents cut into the front of the door, so I could see, but it was so narrow that my elbows were pinned to my sides. And I was going to be stuck there until they left. If they didn’t discover me and either shoot me or take me to Luka, first.
“You see his new one?” the blond one asked in Russian.
The dark-haired one laughed and nodded. “You know she’s American?”
Oh great. They were talking about me! I wanted to put my hands over my ears, but the locker was so small that there wasn’t room to lift my arms.
The other one laughed and shook his head, sucking on his cigarette and then blowing out the smoke.“Why’d he bring her aboard?”
“I don’t mind. Nice to have something to look at.”
My cheeks reddened.
The blond one shook his head. “I don’t want something to look at. Not when I can’t fuck her.” He shifted in his seat, nodding down at his groin. “Fucking frustrating.”
The dark one grinned. “I don’t mind. I hope she’s a screamer. He took Elena—remember Elena?—to a hotel in Paris one time and I was in the room next to theirs. I listened to them all night.”
I was beet-red, now. I made a mental note to stay very, very quiet during sex.
The blond one shook his head. “I don’t want to be walking around with my dick hard all day. Why couldn’t he leave her in Moscow? It’s only a couple of days.”
I felt a chill run up my spine. Why had Luka brought me along? It made no sense.
“He’s keeping her sweet, idiot. Don’t you know anything about women? He’s letting her think he’s in love with her. She’s probably off doing her nails, now, expecting a ring and a house and children.”
I felt hot tears prickling at my eyes. Don’t! Not in here. I wasn’t sure I could cry silently. Save it for later.
The dark-haired guard stubbed out his cigarette. “I give it a week. Once he’s fucked her ten different ways, he’ll get rid of her like the rest.” He stood up. “Come on.”
And they strolled out. I stayed there in the locker with the tears trickling down my face and no way to wipe them. I just had to stare through the blur as I heard their footsteps die away.
And what was I crying about, anyway? This
I hurried into the next room...and stopped dead.
The walls were lined with lockers. A TV on the wall was blaring and there was an ashtray on the table, smoke still rising from a butt. It must be the break room, where the guards hung out between patrols. And now the ones right on my tail were coming back here.
And it was a dead end.
Time seemed to stretch out. My eyes searched the room for a door I’d missed, a hatch...anything that would let me escape. But there was nothing. The guards would be there in seconds, and they’d catch me. And they’d know that, to get there, I must have gone straight through the room with the weapon crates. There’d be no chance of “ Oh, I was looking for a bathroom!” They’d take me straight to Luka, and he’d think back to how he’d found me in his room in New York, and he’d realize what I really was.
My eyes fell on the lockers. That’s ridiculous. If I hid there, I’d be trapped until they left.
The footsteps were right behind me. I pulled open the nearest locker and flung myself inside, pulling the door shut behind me.
Two guards strolled in. Now that we were out at sea, they didn’t have to hide the fact they were armed. Both of them had stubby sub-machine guns slung around their necks.
They slumped down into cheap plastic chairs that creaked under their muscled bulk. They had the same crew cuts and powerful bodies as the others I’d seen, definitely ex-soldiers. One was blond and one dark, but otherwise they could have been brothers. Bored, they glanced up at the soccer game on the TV and lit cigarettes.
In the locker, I tried to breathe silently. There were vents cut into the front of the door, so I could see, but it was so narrow that my elbows were pinned to my sides. And I was going to be stuck there until they left. If they didn’t discover me and either shoot me or take me to Luka, first.
“You see his new one?” the blond one asked in Russian.
The dark-haired one laughed and nodded. “You know she’s American?”
Oh great. They were talking about me! I wanted to put my hands over my ears, but the locker was so small that there wasn’t room to lift my arms.
The other one laughed and shook his head, sucking on his cigarette and then blowing out the smoke.“Why’d he bring her aboard?”
“I don’t mind. Nice to have something to look at.”
My cheeks reddened.
The blond one shook his head. “I don’t want something to look at. Not when I can’t fuck her.” He shifted in his seat, nodding down at his groin. “Fucking frustrating.”
The dark one grinned. “I don’t mind. I hope she’s a screamer. He took Elena—remember Elena?—to a hotel in Paris one time and I was in the room next to theirs. I listened to them all night.”
I was beet-red, now. I made a mental note to stay very, very quiet during sex.
The blond one shook his head. “I don’t want to be walking around with my dick hard all day. Why couldn’t he leave her in Moscow? It’s only a couple of days.”
I felt a chill run up my spine. Why had Luka brought me along? It made no sense.
“He’s keeping her sweet, idiot. Don’t you know anything about women? He’s letting her think he’s in love with her. She’s probably off doing her nails, now, expecting a ring and a house and children.”
I felt hot tears prickling at my eyes. Don’t! Not in here. I wasn’t sure I could cry silently. Save it for later.
The dark-haired guard stubbed out his cigarette. “I give it a week. Once he’s fucked her ten different ways, he’ll get rid of her like the rest.” He stood up. “Come on.”
And they strolled out. I stayed there in the locker with the tears trickling down my face and no way to wipe them. I just had to stare through the blur as I heard their footsteps die away.
And what was I crying about, anyway? This
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