Page 11 of Freeing Emily
“Mo shaol!” My life,he bellows, pulling her into his chest. He exhales against her hair as though releasing the tension he has been carrying. A small smile surfaces on my face, and it draws Emily’s attention.
My eyes veer in her direction. Her head tips slightly as she studies me curiously. I quickly break eye contact with her to avoid attracting Declan’s notice. My skin pebbles in awareness as she continues to stare at me.
“Liam, meet with Finn at the warehouse in Manhattan.” Conor’s order comes in a tone filled with contentment.
I meet his eyes and dip my chin. “Aye, sir.”
Shoving my desire to look at Emily, I spin on my heels and head out the door.
The pain and tenderness in my ankle from the shackle dull the voices in my head. They dull my yearning to scratch at my skin just enough that my injuries have finally had a chance to heal. The damage I’ve made to my thighs from my incessant scraping is deep and will forever be marked on my skin. It will be a reminder of the destruction I’ve sustained to my soul. Of the devastating reality that I’m no longer… me.
I absentmindedly graze the raised scar I have along my inner thigh from when I first arrived here. The lumpiness of the discolored skin is thick and the sensation of my finger touching the area is slightly clouded from the nerve damage I’ve created.
Time seems to pass in a depressing blur while also standing still. In the time I’ve been placed back into the room where Paige is held with the other women, many have been taken. Few have returned.
Part of me hopes they died. It’s the far lesser evil than being sold to sadistic monsters.
The deadbolt on the steel door brings me back to reality. Paige and I huddle into each other, shielding ourselves as bestas we can. We’ve been a part of the small number of women that haven’t been taken. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing. The unknown is terrifying. What could possibly come from us not being used and abused for an extended period?
“Everybody up.” Two men grunt and we slowly rise to our feet with wobbly legs.
The door is pushed open further and Vladimir steps in with a smug sneer plastered on his atrocious face. I feel rage when I see him. He has been a thorn in my family’s side for as long as I can remember and now, I’m a pawn in his plot for revenge on my family.
“Hello, ladies,” the satisfaction in his voice makes my inside contort.
We stand silently, waiting for whatever plans he has for us. This is the first time he’s come pay us a visit and it’s unsettling.
“My name is Vladimir Solkolov, Pakhan of the Russian Bratva. Prepare yourselves, as we will be leaving for your next home.” He wraps his fingers around the collar of the suit jacket and examines each of us with such intensity that I want to throw up.
His eyes land on Paige and my stomach falls. His gaze doesn’t stray when he whispers into the ear of the man next to him. Suddenly, a small army of men step into the room and begin hauling us out. Some resist and are dragged by their hair. Others don’t engage in any struggle for a chance to escape. They’ve accepted that this will be their lives moving forward.
I’m not entirely sure which group I fall in. A part of me wants to fight. The other part of me isn’t sure if it’s even worth it at this point.
As the room empties, my terror rises, and I shiver. Paige and I intertwine our fingers and clutch each other’s hands as firmly as our skeletal bodies allow.
Only one man moves to remove my shackle but not Paige’s. When he doesn’t attempt to release her from her chains, fearunlike anything I’ve felt overpowers my system. We grapple to cling to each other as I’m dragged away and hold on until the very last second when I’m forced to release her.
Paige’s eyes are wide with terror. A broken sob escapes me when we pass the threshold of the door and she’s no longer in view.
Russia. We’ve been moved to Russia. Even if we managed to break out of here, we’d be captured almost immediately. Vladimir’s family controls nearly the entire country. We’re fucked.
I haven’t laid eyes on Paige since we arrived, and it's been five days. Dread consumes me. Is she alive? What is happening to her? Will I ever see her again?
When we first arrived, everyone was separated and placed into differentcells. Some in groups. Some alone. I’ve been unfortunately subjected to isolation once again. My senses are continually obstructed when I’m locked in dark rooms. My eyes are tired from the strain I place on them to see anything. I’m forced to use my smell and hearing often. The unpleasant sounds and odors overwhelm me each time.
I sit with my back pressed along the concrete wall in a windowless room so dark that I can’t make out anything inches in front of me. Not that it would matter anyway, I know the space is empty. I’m alone. As time passes, I’m beginning to enjoy the solitude. I’m beginning to enjoy the visits from the demons that mock my entire existence.
“Féileacán.”Liam’s voice calling mebutterflycauses my throat to tighten. I can’t see him, but I feel the ghost of his hands softly stroking my cheek. My eyes close and I try to manifest his presence into reality.
Sorrow and grief surge so quickly that I feel like I’m drowning. I’ve lost a love I never even had a chance to have.
Liam has been a part of my life for years and just when I began to have a taste of the love we could have had, it came crashing down. My father told me he agreed for me to have an arranged marriage to some bigshot billionaire. The marriage would have allowed my father to move his money through his banks without drawing the attention of the feds.
So, Liam started pushing me away.
The memories I created with him haunt me as much as they console me. I never had the chance to tell him I love him and when he pushed me away, I knew that he didn’t feel the same. He didn’t fight for me when I begged him to. He didn’t ask me to say no to the marriage. He did nothing.
“Féileacán,”he says again, only this time it sounds further away.