Chapter Two – What did I get myself into?
The last thing Isa remembered was the alley. That man. The knife. Then a hand over her mouth. Darkness.
She woke up with a start. Soft sheets. A huge bed. Gold curtains. Her heart jumped into her throat.
Isa: "Where am I?"
She sat up fast. Her blouse was still on but crooked. Her bag, phone gone. Only her glasses sat on the nightstand. She grabbed them, slid them on, and swung her feet to the floor.
Her eyes darted to the door. I have to get out.
She ran to it and turned the knob. It opened. No guards. No chains. Just a long hallway with heavy carpets.
Isa (whispering): "Okay… go now."
She slipped out. The hallway smelled of cologne and smoke. Men's voices somewhere below. Russian words she couldn't understand.
She crept down a staircase, keeping to the side. Her sandals made tiny clicks on the marble. Her heart thumped.
At the bottom a wide hall stretched out. Chandeliers. Long tables. An open door at the far end. Maybe an exit.
Isa: "Almost there…"
A man staggered out from a side room. Big, broad shoulders, bottle in his hand. His eyes found her immediately.
Drunk Man: "Ну-ка, красавица…" (Well now, pretty girl…)
Isa froze. "Please, I'm lost..."
He laughed, coming closer.
Drunk Man: "Ты ведь шлюха, да?" (You're a whore, right?)
Isa shook her head. "No! Let me go!"
He grabbed her arm. She tried to pull back, but he yanked her close. Vodka and sweat rolled off him. Her stomach turned.
Drunk Man: "Давай, детка…" (Come on, baby…)
His free hand fumbled at his belt. Metal clinked. Isa pushed at his chest, panic rising.
Isa: "Stop! Please!"
He shoved her against the wall. Her glasses slipped down her nose. Tears blurred her sight. She screamed.
A low voice cut through the hall like a blade:
Man: "Что ты делаешь?" (What do you think you are doing?)
Everything stopped. The drunk man froze. Isa turned her head.
It was him. The man from the alley. Dark hair. Cold eyes. Black coat open. Two tall men stood behind him.
Man: "Уберите его." (Take him away.)
The guards grabbed the drunk before he could react. His bottle hit the floor and shattered. He cursed in Russian, but they dragged him off down another corridor.
Isa's knees wobbled. She didn't think, she reached for the dark-haired man's coat like a lifeline.
Isa: "Please… don't leave me here…"
He looked down at her. His eyes were unreadable. He spoke English now, voice deep and rough.
Man: "This isn't a place you can wander. Be a good girl and stay in your room. Someone will come for you when I'm done."
Isa: "Who are you? What is this?"
He didn't answer. He took her wrist, not hurting her but not gentle either, and walked her back up the stairs. She stumbled after him, still clutching his sleeve.
Back at the room he opened the door, guided her inside, then let go.
Man: "Stay." (Он сказал: «Оставайся.»)
He closed the door. This time she heard the lock click.
Isa stood there, breathing hard. Her hands shook. She touched her face. He saved me. But who is he?
She went to the window. Bars on the outside. Snowy rooftops below. No escape.
Down the hall she heard voices in Russian again:
Man 1 "Он пытался тронуть её." (He tried to touch her.)
Man 2 "Босс не будет доволен." (Boss won't be pleased.)
Then a door shut. Silence.
Isa pressed her ear to the door. Footsteps. A muffled sound, like a door closing hard. Then a single crack, sharp, final. She flinched. She knew that sound from TV. A gunshot.
She stumbled back to the bed, covering her mouth.
Isa (whisper): "Oh my God…"
She sat there, arms wrapped around herself. Her mind raced. A gunshot. Where am I ?heart still beat wild, she didn't understand why and how, but some part of her felt safer with the dark man than with anyone else. Against all reason she wanted him back. He was the only one who had stopped the drunk.
Minutes later she heard footsteps again, slow and heavy. The door opened. He stepped in. No blood on him, no expression on his face.
Isa shot up. "Please… don't lock me here. I didn't do anything."
He looked at her, eyes like ice.
Man: "Do as you're told and you won't be hurt."
Isa: "I just want to go home…"
Man: "Not yet."
He turned to leave.
Isa: "Wait!"
Without thinking she grabbed his sleeve again. "Don't leave me alone here…"
He paused, glanced down at her hand. For a second his expression shifted, something flickered in his eyes. Then it was gone.
Man: "Stay in this room. I'll send someone with food. Don't try to run again."
He pried her fingers off gently and walked out. The lock clicked again.
Isa sat back on the bed, trembling. She whispered to herself:
Isa: "What did I just get into…"
Down the hall, in another room, the drunk man knelt tied to a chair. The dark-haired man walked in, silent. He pulled a pistol from the back of his coat.
Man: "Глупый." (Fool.)
One shot to the forehead. Clean. The guards dragged the body away without a word.
He holstered the gun and wiped his hands, his face still blank. Then he turned and walked back into the shadows.
Isa lay on the bed, eyes wide open. She couldn't decide which scared her more, the men outside the door or the man who had saved her.