Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Galina

Two months ago

I was pushed from behind so hard I lost my balance and fell forward, my hands instinctively reaching out to stop the impact. My knees and palms connected with the dirty ground, tearing at skin, pain lancing up my arms and legs.

I'd been brought to an abandoned warehouse. This could very well be where I died.

I heard snickering from the two men behind me, the ones who'd forcefully taken me out of my bed. I clenched my jaw, the familiar anger I felt whenever I thought of my father and the shit he dragged me into moving through me.

I was here because of him . My father. The lowlife drug addict who had a gambling problem and made a bet he couldn't talk his way out of. And he'd finally included me personally in his hellhole.

I should have left Vegas long ago , I thought. I should have never convinced myself that I was stronger than all this shit, that I didn't have to leave to make a life for myself. Damn it, I should have put him and everything he stood for behind me for good.

Would've, could've, should've, and all that bullshit.

For a second I contemplated just staying on my hands and knees. I wasn't sure if I was going to get kicked back down if I tried to rise, but I didn't want to seem weak. I refused to let these assholes think I was easy prey.

I gathered my pride and pushed myself up, the sound of the men in the room laughing causing me to grit my teeth and ignore them.

Because it was the middle of the night, I wore nothing but a white tank top and a pair of loose lounge pants. They hadn't even given me time to put on shoes or a jacket, and with it being October—even though we were in Vegas—the temperature dropped below fifty. Coupled with this dank, old warehouse and the fear that I'd probably die tonight—or worse—I started shivering.

I wrapped my arms around myself, wanting to conserve heat, and also because I could feel how hard my nipples were and didn't want the sick fucks getting a boner at the sight. I didn't look behind me at the two men who still stood there, blocking the entrance.

There were a handful of men standing in front of me, and I was surprised they needed so many bodies just for me. The warehouse I had been taken to was clearly abandoned, the floors filthy, age and rust covering every inch of this place. The scent of dirt, mold, and something rotting filled the air.

Given the fact that I was surrounded by a bunch of lowlifes, the smell of what was rotting could've very well been a body for all I knew.

I heard some shuffling to my side and turned my head to see my father stepping out from a doorway.

My father. The man I'd written off more than a year ago, pushed him out of my life because I was tired of him constantly pulling me into the vortex of his shit.

The steel door hung from rusted-out hinges and leaned half against the wall as he cleared the entryway. At first I was confused why he didn't have anyone dragging his sorry ass forward. Was he here of his own free will? Seemed unlikely, given his track record.

But then I saw the barrel of a gun that was pointed right behind his head.

The man who stepped out from behind my father was tall and heavily muscled, his face expressionless.

When my father and the gunman cleared the doorway, I spotted another man stepping through. The master to these fucking puppets.

Henry Taedoni.

He was the only one I was familiar with in this shithole, but then again, that was only because of my father and all the trouble he constantly brought down in all our lives.

Henry was what many people in our circle would've called a gangster, although "many people in our circle" consisted of meth heads, gambling addicts, and anyone who owed him money. Henry was nothing more than a low-level loan shark, a drug dealer, and an all-around piece of shit.

He wasn't part of any official organized crime faction. I would've placed them in the white trash category, the kind of "leader" who kept addicts, criminals, and degenerates of the trashier variety on his payroll and as his clientele.

Because they were easily manipulated and wouldn't fight back.

Henry and his people weren't organized or smart. They used sloppy force and fear tactics toward an already weak population to get what they wanted.

"Galina Michone," he drawled in a way that made my skin prickle with awareness and disgust. He came closer and stopped when he was a few feet from me. A nasty grin spread across his face, a gold tooth in the side of his mouth flashing under the dirty, muted light. The way he let his gaze move up and down my body made me feel slimy and naked.

"Leo's really gotten himself into a jam this time," Henry murmured and tucked his hands into the front pockets of his slacks, ones that looked like they were made of discount polyester.

For all the money Henry had swindled out of people, he looked as cheap as a two-dollar bill.

"I'm not sure what Leo does or doesn't do has to do with me." I should've kept my mouth shut. Pissing off Leo and his goons wasn't going to do me any favors.

But I was surprised—and proud—I sounded as strong as I did. Inside I was terrified, of course. I knew the situation wasn't going to go in my favor.

"Leo and I don't speak. He denounced me as his daughter quite a while ago when I refused to give him money and told him what a lowlife he was."

Henry grinned again, this one more sharklike.

"And even if I did have the money, which I don't, I sure as hell wouldn't use it to bail Leo out. He's on his own." I didn't bother looking at the man who'd been nothing but a sperm donor. Fuck him for getting me into this shit.

I looked back at Henry quickly, knowing I couldn't trust him as far as I could throw him. I noticed how he looked over my shoulder at the two men behind me, something in his eyes causing them to move closer. I heard the shuffling of their feet, smelled the dirty sweat that clung to them as it filled my nose. I tensed, my muscles tightening. Although I'd taken a few self- defense classes in the past, I wasn't a fool thinking I was any match for them.

"It's not money I want from you, Galina."

My heart stopped, then started racing over time.

"Leo finally offered compensation for his debt that I am satisfied with." Henry's grin couldn't be called anything but perverse. "And that's you—or more so your body and that sweet cherry you still have between your legs."

I felt my eyes widen a second before pure horror washed through me. I looked over at Leo, but the bastard wasn't looking at me, wouldn't dare face me after the heinous act he'd just done.

"And don't try saying you're not as innocent as Leo said. I've been watching you, Galina. I know you don't take company with anyone. I know your daily habits, know you sleep alone every night." Henry raked his beady-eyed gaze up and down my body and took a step toward me. "In fact, I've stood over your bed and watched you sleep, know you keep a pistol under your pillow." He hummed as if that aroused him. "I even leaned down and smelled your hair on more than one occasion, wondering if your pussy smells just as sweet."

Oh God. I took a step back, fear coursing through me, but my back slammed into one of his goons. Hands clamped around my arms, and I fought wildly, self-preservation rising up. I kicked and screamed, but it was only met with a bruising grip and laughter surrounding me. Soon enough, I was winded and defeated, tears springing to my eyes… ones I refused to let fall.

I didn't confirm or deny what Henry said. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of breaking down. I looked at Leo once more. He was staring at me with what I could have assumed was guilt, but he also looked high as a kite.

"You were supposed to protect me," I whispered. Those words were nothing but a pipe dream of a once vulnerable little girl. I had no mother, no father despite him standing right in front of me.

And he'd sold off my virginity to clear his debt. He sold me off as if I was a commodity.

"I think I'll let some fucker buy your cherry for an exorbitant price. You don't see many women still so innocent at your age."

Like my age of twenty-one meant I was some spinster.

"And after you've been broken in—defiled, I'm sure—then I'll take you for a ride before you really get used up." I snapped my focus back to Henry. "But you look so sweet and delicious that I may not tire of you for some time. I may keep you as my personal pet for a while, Galina." He was leering again like a sick fuck.

"And then what?" I sneered. Fuck him. Let him see my anger and wrath, even if it didn't do any good.

His grin widened. I was pretty sure he liked me fighting back, probably got off on it. "And then I'll sell you off nightly, recoup my money and then some."

I struggled all over again, managing to kick the leg of the bastard holding me. He grunted and dug his fingers into me so hard I knew there would be black-and-blue marks on my flesh. I hissed in pain, and he jerked me closer to him, my back to his chest, before he wrapped a steely arm around my middle, stilling me.

"If you don't stop, I'll knock you out with a hit to the face," he seethed, and I froze. His breath smelled like stale cigarette smoke and cheap liquor.

"Brutus, let's not resort to scare tactics." Henry clucked and moved closer until he stood right in front of me. He stared at me, the leering and suggestive looks suddenly gone as he became serious.

And that terrified me the most out of this entire situation.

"It could have been worse, Galina. So much worse."

I bit my tongue so I didn't say something I couldn't take back. I was still trying to think of how to get out of this, even if that seemed impossible.

"And hey," he said and grinned once more, holding his hands out as if he was some kind of martyr. "I'm not such a bad guy. I'm even going to let you go back home and gather anything you want that'll fit into a bag. I do want you to be comfortable… until you're not." He gave me a wink, and my belly clenched in dread.

I didn't ask why he was giving me that small "gift," because it allowed me more time to think of how to escape, of how to run. What Leo and Henry didn't know—what no one knew—was I had always felt like something bad was going to happen. That other shoe dropping. The end of the world… my world. And it was because of that that I'd already packed a bag, had escape money, no actual plan but a means to leave at the drop of a hat. If I could just get to where I'd stashed my bag and supplies, I had a chance. It was slim, but it was still a chance.

So I went slack in the asshole's arms until he loosened his hold on me enough I could breathe comfortably. Henry cocked his head, maybe thinking I was being a little too accepting of my situation, but I didn't care. I had to be smart if I wanted a chance to survive.

I gave my piece-of-shit father one last hateful look, swearing that if I ever had the chance, I'd end him, wipe out his miserable life like he'd so easily done with mine. I was then hauled away, pulled through the dirty warehouse, and tossed into the back of the car I'd been brought here in.

The next twenty minutes as we drove through Vegas and back to my crappy apartment went by in a blur. I didn't question why they hadn't just grabbed my stuff when they'd taken me from my apartment. I didn't wonder why they were even giving me this small "act of kindness". I didn't ask or care because in the end they didn't care. Hell, for all I knew this was all an act to make me more compliant, to make it seem like things weren't as bad as they were.

In the end my feelings and wants and needs, my comforts didn't matter.

I couldn't think straight, was sweaty and shaking, and I felt the glaring looks of the two men who sat on either side of me.

Before I knew it, I was hauled out of the back of the car and taken up to my apartment. Because my place was as shitty as they came, anyone we passed—even at this hour—minded their own business. They were either addicts and not coherent enough to care, or they knew who the men trailing me worked for and were too afraid to intervene.

"Grab your shit," one of the men said harshly as he pushed me into my apartment after the door was opened. It was shut behind me, and I started making my way toward my room, when I felt a tight grip on my forearm stop me.

"If you do anything stupid, I'll fucking beat you and say to hell with grabbing your shit. Got it?"

I didn't look at the prick who spoke the words, just nodded and tugged my arm free. "I have to use the bathroom."

"Make it quick." His words were clipped as he followed close behind me.

Before I could go inside, he pushed his way in front and surveyed the bathroom. It was tiny and old, with rust and calcium deposits and stains on the tub and sink, a small window above the tub. He went over to the window and tried opening it, and I held my breath, praying it held. It was old and janky, but I'd rigged it a certain way that I could open it where others would see it as sealed shut.

And when it held strong, he moved away, and I exhaled. He checked under the sink, presumably for weapons, but all he'd find was a couple of cleaning supplies, which he removed. What did he think I was going to do with them?

"Make it quick," he said again and left me alone, and I was shocked he allowed me to close the door. I wanted to thank whoever was listening, but I didn't have time. No one would help me but myself.

I opened the door under the sink, and as silently as I could, I popped up the loose wooden board where my bag was held. Once I had it, I grabbed the cheap sneakers inside, threw on a long-sleeved shirt, and made sure the money and gun were still tucked away. And then I went over to the toilet and flushed it, then quickly went to the window to pry it open. I hoped the flushed toilet would mask the sound of me opening the glass.

Once it was pried open, I tossed my bag out, my apartment fortunately close enough to the ground that I wouldn't break a leg jumping out.

I was halfway out when one of the assholes pounded on the door and barked out, "Hurry it the fuck up." And just as I swung my body out the window, I saw the bathroom door open and the prick barrel inside. His gaze latched on to me instantly, his eyes narrowing and a curse ringing out.

I landed on the ground and grabbed my bag, then ran like my life depended on it.

Because it did.