Adrian
AdrianI spit blood down the front of myself when I regain consciousness. When I attempt to throw myself onto my feet I’m stopped by–oh the f*****g irony–a goddamn zip tie around my wrists. It’s one of my own–I’d left the baggie out on the floor, and it’s attached to the metal frame of the bed.
oh the f*****g irony“Kateryna!” I shout, yanking against it.
Where is she? f**k, if they defile her before I get to her…
No. I won’t let it happen. And I will kill every last one of those cocksuckers for trying.
I hear her scream in reply–she’s in one of the other bunkrooms down here.
Fuck. Me.
“Don’t touch her,” I yell in Russian. “Leon Poval will have your head!”
Whether they believe I work for him or know that she’s his daughter, I pray invoking his name will stop whatever is going
