Chapter 31Liana

My wrists and ankles bound once again, I sat in the chair and tried to reason with my nerves. I shook my head to clear it—my plan had to work. There was no room for failure, and any panic would just get in the way.

“You okay?” Giovanni asked out of the corner of his mouth.

“Yes.”

Surveying the room, I noted the yellow walls, wooden floors, and randomly placed pillars, with large doors providing a view of the water and the boat slowly approaching.

“It’s a warehouse,” he explained. “That’s just a tender to pick you up and take you to the larger ship.”

I swallowed. Not exactly ideal, but it was the only way to get to Perez.

“Maybe he comes to pick me up personally and we snatch him,” I murmured, the hope in my chest a vicious bitch. After all, he personally handled a transaction with my own mother not too long ago. Maybe he’d want to do the same now.

The boat docked, and it didn’t take long for two men to make their way to us. One was heavyset, and the other skinny with dark sunglasses.

“Fuck, no Perez,” I hissed.

“I should kill them and end this,” he muttered.

“No,” I gritted. “I need Perez.”

Not taking their gazes off me, the two men swallowed the distance between us.

“Agosti,” the heavyset man greeted. “Congrats on the promotion.” Giovanni didn’t answer, just nodded tersely. “This the bitch?”

Giovanni’s growl vibrated behind me, and I had to act quickly before he gave up the ruse.

“Who are you calling bitch, you pussy?” I snapped, struggling against the ropes and giving as convincing a performance as I could manage. “Untie me, and I’ll show you how much of a pussy you are.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” groaned Giovanni.

The two men laughed, sharing amused glances.

“Feisty bitch,” one man said as he pushed his glasses up his nose. He took a step forward, bringing his face closer, the scent of tobacco and motor oil invading my space. I held my breath, waiting. One more inch and… Bam! I headbutted him with all my strength.

He staggered back, clutching his nose as blood seeped between his fingers.

“This fucking bitch!” he screamed, raising his hand to slap me, but before his fist could connect with my face, Giovanni stepped in front of me and intervened.

“No marks on the woman.” A collective chill spread between us all. It was so quiet I could hear each drum of my heart. Bumbumbum.

The men stared at each other, Giovanni’s face reflecting not a flicker of emotion. Strained silence reigned for a moment before the other man broke it.

“You’re right,” he growled. “Perez wouldn’t be happy with damaged goods.”

I gritted my teeth, fighting the urge to smash these two morons’ heads with my hands tied behind my back.

This would be too easy.

Not a single sick bastard I’d killed in the past compared to the assholes on this ship. However, I found one thing advantageous. They considered me to be easy prey, and I planned to use that to my benefit.

It took less than sixty hours for the pigs who were taking us to Perez Cortes to strike. The smoke. The laughter. The fumes of their filth. The other women were huddled in the corner, sleeping, but I lay awake.

I’d been keeping an eye on the women and tracking a roach crawling along the filth-covered floor. The bug kept walking in circles, bumping into hay, but remained determined to get to its destination. Kind of like me.

God, I was tired.

I needed rest in order to keep my wits about me, but then who would ensure these girls were safe? It was up to me to protect them.

My anxiety had me wide awake now, and I counted the seconds it took for the roach to finally give up. The dull pain in my temples seemed to grow with each passing day, and I was beginning to think it had something to do with the conditions of my living situation here, not to mention being on edge twenty-four seven. Confusing thoughts invaded my brain, and I could no longer distinguish between memories and dreams.

You killed her.

I wanted to ask who, but I had nobody to ask. My lip trembled, my heart aching for her—whoever she was.

I didn’t know, but judging by this coiled knot of emotions in my chest, I felt it was important. It hurt. So fucking much, and I didn’t know why. The only time I’d ever felt this pain was when I let thoughts of my sister filter in. Could that be a clue?

Eyes stinging, I blinked rapidly, years of training still firmly in place. My mother beat and electrocuted that weakness out of me.

Kiss me, sunshine.

Goosebumps rose on my skin. The voice in my head sounded authoritative, important. So why couldn’t I remember him? The squeak of a metal door traveled through the air. A light gust of a cool breeze broke through, sending a shiver down my spine.

I remained still, keeping my breaths even, and waited.

As I listened for footsteps, I once again thought about how goddamn predictable men were. With their dicks and their greed, they never failed to disappoint. The jingle of keys. Another door creak.

Peering at the figure through my eyelashes, I watched as Bill—the short guard who’d been drooling over the girls since I arrived—trailed his meaty, disgusting hand up one of the girls’ thighs while she slept.

Disgust clogged my throat, but I remained perfectly still with my jaw clenched. A soft, sleepy whimper came from the girl, and nasally breathing rumbled from the soon-to-be cockless man. The groper’s hand inched higher up, and I went for the holstered knife hiding in my very unattractive granny panties.

Fury surged, filling my vision with a red haze. My fingers closed around the knife, and without a sound, I was behind him. Reaching around, I pressed the blade against his throat with my left hand and gripped his hair with my right.

“Make a sound and I’ll slice your throat,” I warned in a hushed tone, careful not to scare the girls. When he didn’t respond, I pressed the knife into his throat, piercing his skin. “Understand?”

“Yes,” he rasped. “But you won’t get away with this.”

I ignored his warning. “Step away from the girl and move out.”

Slowly, he did as he was told, and the moment we were outside the door of our prison, I cut him with precision and watched him fall onto his knees, gurgling.

“Psycho… bitch.”

I came around him, my lips curled into a sadistic smirk.

“Well, you got one thing right tonight,” I said coldly.

The man struggled for breath, his chest heaving and his hands clutching his throat. But there would be no mercy for him. I stood there, watching him choke on his own blood. Then I stepped over him without a second thought and made my way to add a few more kills to my list.

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