Chapter Seven - Ava

Now I’ve got two injuries to my name. I double over, pressed against the door as the men shove me in, staring down at the weeping shallow burns embedded on my forearm, willing myself not to sob. Why does this have to happen to me now? The gaping wounds are smoldering and stinging, governed by a tidal wave of fresh pain that I’ve got no time to indulge in. I need to get out of this fucking wealthy dungeon ASAP. My knee’s not much better, aching from the woods, but it’s not swollen like a balloon like it was yesterday.

Who is this fucking bastard? Why didn’t I remember his face from the funeral? My head pounds as I think back to the whirl of activity at the funeral. The entire day remains a strange blur with so many people approaching me, but I can’t remember him . He couldn’t have been there. No. I would have remembered a tall, blond exterminator-looking guy with glacier eyes of death. So deathly cold it sends shivers down my spine when I think about him. The deep heat radiating from my arm distracts me, but involuntary tears roll down my cheeks, and I can’t stop them from falling.

What a heartless fucking asshole, and I thought my boss Gunther was the horror story. Turns out he’s a real cupcake compared to this subhuman terrorizer. A blaze of heat surges through my veins as I will myself to stand up straight again. The property is rightfully owned by me, and he’s trying to steal what’s mine! From my family! I know the law, and I can’t let him get away with it. But first things first, I have to get out of here.

Shaking off the searing heat from my arm, I divert my gaze around the expansive suite, ignoring all its trimmings, the panic taking hold as I search for the nearest escape. I stop scanning, but my heart rate stays elevated. There’s a medium-sized window to the right of me, but I’m on the second floor, and I don’t like my chances of getting safely to the ground. I’ve already slipped and fell once, and my confidence is broken. I don’t particularly want to be bouncing around on the rooftop of this monster’s mansion, but with his dangerous warning ringing in my ears, it spurs me on.

“I’m going to give you time to think about your decision. Maybe the fall affected your decision-making and I want you to be sure of what you’re saying to me.” His words linger in my head, but the warning only got worse after that. “And I tell you something Ms. Knight. You would want to make the right decision, because if you don’t, this little cigar burn is only the preview of the torture I plan to inflict on you.” He snickered, the spray of his spit touching the top of my earlobe, making me want to wipe it, but I was frozen on the spot, afraid he would do something worse to me, so all I could do was stand there shaking like a leaf.

“No,” I’d said in the smallest, meekest voice possible, bracing myself for the onslaught of pain, but I swore I heard his jaw crack.

“Your stubbornness is going to be your downfall. You can cool off in the spare bedroom, Ms. Knight. I urge you to think again and don’t try anything stupid.” His rough handlers or this other weird gang of men, who looked similar with their cold, hard eyes had dragged back to the room, and as they did, I was smart enough to look around the corridor to see where I could run once, I broke free of the room.

I stare at the window, gulping down all kinds of irrational fears. If I want out of this place, I’m going to have to risk the fall and essentially my life. Assessing my chances of my not breaking my neck, I notice there’s a small balcony held up by long smooth white pillars. Both the pillars are thick enough for me to climb down to the exit, but they’re so smooth, it’s going to be a slippery ride down, but it’s the only chance I have of survival. I blank out the pain in my arm and hoist up the window, wincing as I do, then check around for noises and voices trying to stop me. Not hearing anything, I step out onto the balcony. Assessing how far down I would have to shimmy in order to make it to the ground, I inhale a large breath. Fuck .

This is the worst idea ever, but I’ve got to do it. I only have a limited turning space, but I take the chance, spontaneously taking off my sweater and wrapping it around the smooth pillar for extra grip. I step up onto the balcony ledge, taking my chance and swinging my leg out, wrapping it around the pole and carefully shimmying the bulk of my body down as my top rides up. It’s hard to do because the entire time down I’m thinking about being shot at. Gritting my teeth, I sob, my arm burning along with everything else inside of me as I descend.

I keep moving down, but as I look up at the balcony I’ve just come from, I see it. There’s a huge CCTV in the corner of the balcony, and a red light is blinking rudely back at me.

Oh shit. I’m being recorded. Maybe it’s for later, and I will have escaped soon enough. I pray that’s the case, but by the time I’m halfway down and looking down at the ground, I can see near the mansion gates there are two guards, one on either side, and outside the door there’s two guards. All of them are armed and there are more cameras.

Wanting to pee myself, I hold on, my arms shaking as I wait three-quarters of the way down, thinking about my options, my heart sinking. There’s no chance of me escaping. I’m going to have to climb back up. If these men below see me, they might do worse than Dimitri can do.

Fuck! Thankfully before my arms are too exhausted and I’m down on the ground, one of them leaves their post and their phone behind. The other one isn’t expecting anyone to be shimmying down from the balcony. He’s not paying attention and has walked along the porch to the other side.

Thinking on my feet, I see the phone left behind from the guy who left his post. I snatch it up, pulling out Aiden’s business card from my pocket. He’s the only person who might be able to help me. With fast fingers, not knowing how long I have, I write him a quick message.

ME: Please help. I’m at this location. Dimitri. Chicago. Hostage. I hold up the phone, my fingers trembling trying to snap the shot, sending it to him. What did the guy say his name was?

Both the guards are still vacant from their posts, but I can’t risk milling around, shimmying back up the pillar, my shoes having enough grip on them to climb I find. Puffing, exhausted, and terrified, I jump back onto the balcony and head back inside.

But I’m too late. Dimitri’s already in front of me with his arms crossed. I stare back at his muscular arms, now sorry that I tried to escape. My eyes travel over his honed legs, which are so muscular I can make out the shape of them through his pants. The pants are sticking to him, and I understand why, but how can I be terrified and attracted at the same time? Maybe this is what it’s like to experience Stockholm Syndrome. As my eyes quickly reach their destination, the predator is smiling, his teeth shining back at me.

“So is there a reason you were out on the balcony. Did you think you would make a decision outside, doll?” Dimitri asks, taking one step closer, invading my space. All my muscles clench up, but I don’t want him to see my fear.

“No, but I went out for some fresh air. It’s stuffy inside here,” I reply stiffly, taking a step back in retreat. Dimitri snarls, the icy blue of his eyes increasing as he snatches me up around the throat, cutting off my air supply as my back slams up against the wall. Seeing stars, I suck in what strands of breath I can gather, my eyes watering.

“You’re a shit liar, Ms. Knight. I fucking saw you on the camera. Surprise.” He cackles, his head coming closer to my face, his dirty blond locks dropping in my eyes. Lightheaded, and fearing for my life don’t exactly go together.

“My throat,” I squeeze out, tilting my head so I can get more air in.

“What about it?” he asks gruffly, his eyes blazing with intensity.

Tapping my throat, I demonstrate for him to let go of it so I can breathe again. Slowly he releases my throat, my feet dropping back to the floor as I inhale severely, gasping for air.

My nose is running, but as it drips, I notice the red blood droplet on the white carpet. Dimitri frowns deeply, tilting my chin up to meet his cutthroat gaze. “Your nose is bleeding,” he says matter-of-factly, but I can’t process anything the hulk of a man is saying as I feel myself slipping, slipping into another zone. Holding my eyes open is getting too hard, and my throat hurts.

Shit. I can’t hold on anymore.