“Vaffanculo. For fucks’ sake!” Renzo strains forward, practically pushing against the back of the driver’s seat as he glares around me at the other man. I’ve never seen him so emotional in my life. “What is this? Stop with the banter, Burim. We’re not on some date, trying to fuck. You have what you want.” Renzo stabs a finger into my back almost pushing me into the otherman’s lap. “She’s exactly what you ordered, minus the looks. She’s defiant and disobedient and hasn’t followed one fucking instruction her entire life.Andshe’s asmafiosoas they come. I’m late in getting her to you, I know, but you have her. Now it’s time for you to fuck off to wherever it is you crawled out from and take her with you. Break her, beat her. Kill her for all I care. Just consider our business done and leave.”
Renzo’s words ring in my ears. I knew I meant nothing to him. I’ve known it for a long time. But hearing him explicitly describe just how disposable I am is a blow I’m not braced for.
Just like I’m sure Renzo’s not prepared for Shkodra to lurch forward and stab him in the stomach. The Albanian doesn’t give any warning. He barely makes a sound. I’m sitting next to the man, our legs touching, and I don’t even realize he’s moved until Renzo is convulsing and gurgling up blood, the hilt of a knife protruding from his stomach.
The smell of blood fills the car, making the air almost unbreathable. I try to shrink back into the seat, making myself as small as possible, but Renzo won’t leave me alone, even now.
Eyes bugged, he stares at me, grabbing at me with one blood-covered hand as he blabbers something in Italian. A plea for help.
As if.
He’s delusional, even at the point of death.
The Albanian, on the other hand, seems vaguely amused by Renzo’s agony. That twinkle in his eye has brightened, even though his next words come out low and harsh. “You forgot one thing on my list, di Salvo. She’s not a virgin.”
He swings his menacing smile my way, his attention on the faint bruises Alik left on my hips during our time together. “Are you,lepurush? That Russian did a good job marking you. Something I’d appreciate if our roles were reversed. But as it is…” Shkodra gives Renzo a disgusted look. “She’s worthless,gomar. And you’ve gone back on your word for the last time.”
I don’t see the gun until it goes off. We’re in such a small space the Albanian’s aim doesn’t really matter. The bullet tears into Renzo at extremely close range. He’s dead so fast he doesn’t make a sound. I, on the other hand, am making a sound I’ve never heard before. A high pitch wail that makes my head feel like it’s going to explode. A possibility that gets even more likely as I register the sensation of Renzo’s blood running in rivulets down my bare skin.
In the front seat, the driver carries on as if nothing happened.
Shkodra, too, looks entirely unbothered by the man leaving blood and other organic bits all over his expensive leather seats. The Albanian isn’t even looking at Renzo. He’s looking at me, his filthy smile getting wider and wider as he studies me wearing remnants of a dead man.
“I like you like this,lepurush. I like it a lot.” He leans forward. I have no idea how I stop myself from vomiting in his lap. “Come here,” he orders down my ear, and I don’t have it in me in this moment to fight back. Not when I can feel the weight of Renzo’s lifeless body against me. I clutch my stomach and screw my eyes shut and lean toward this reprehensible man and don’t let myself guess at what is going to happen next.
Even if I did, I’d be wrong.
The Albanian barely touches me. Instead, he reaches around to the door behind me and pushes it open. The driver must’ve released the locks and slowed down, knowing what his boss was planning to do. We’re moving at a crawl as Shkodra gets his foot against Renzo’s corpse and kicks it out of the car.
There’s a rush of cold air and a thump and a crunch as the body rolls under the back tires. I swear I hear the man next to me giggle as he yanks the door closed again.
“Apologies.” He settles back into his seat. I risk a glance at Shkodra and find him smiling at me. Casually. Like what just happened was a regular old day in the office. “I’d give yousomething to clean yourself off, but I’m quickly becoming a fan of this look. Who knows…I might just forgive you for letting the Russian fuck you.”
His smile gets even wider. “Maybe he’ll enjoy watching me ruin you, hmm? He’ll come for you, try to steal back his little pet, and I wonder if he’ll like what he finds. Wonder if he’ll get off watching me fuck you over and over and over until every memory you have of him is obliterated and I take his place.”
He’s goading me. He wants me to fight.
I’m trembling, half-naked, covered in blood, on the brink of losing my fucking mind, and several thoughts chase themselves around my head.
I can’t lie back and let him rape me.
He wants me to fight.
He’s going to kill me when I do.
There’s no right answer, no way out of this. Nothing that doesn’t involve flinging myself out of the car and praying I somehow survive the impact, the snow, the tires.
Then again, it’s either that or let this psycho take me all the way to hell.
If there’s any chance I’m going to see Alik again, to tell him how I feel, to start a life that belongs to me—tous—I have to get out of this car.
Shkodra is leaning close, now. Very close. I don’t want to look but it’s impossible to ignore just how much he’s enjoying his little fantasy. The crotch of his pants has become way too tight. Just the thought of violating me gets him hard, and it’s the final push I need.
Head down, posture meek, I slink into Renzo’s former seat. I swallow back bile when my legs slide against the blood-soaked leather. “Valentin will find you. He’ll kill you.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” The Albanian sounds entirely unconcerned. “Either way, he won’t get to me before I get to you. In fact, he’s already too late.”
Shkodra’s smile doesn’t falter as he reaches for his belt, starts undoing his pants. “Your meek act doesn’t fool me, Serafina. You’ve got nothing but fight. And I think we’re about to see it.”