Page 6 of 12 Days of F*ckmas
“Listen.” I stumbled after them. “This is truly a mistake.”
The one with the scarred eyelid finally spoke, “The boss never makes mistakes.”
“Um. . .okay. I get it, but this time—”
“Just be a good girl for him, and you will have no problems.” He stopped at the door. “You’ll leave here happy, safe, and with a briefcase full of money.”
“But. . .I don’t want any money. I just want to go home.”
He opened the door and signaled for me to enter. “You’ll go home when the boss is done with you.”
“Done with me? Oh no—”
“By the way, my name is Dog. What do you want for dinner?”
“Dinner?” I checked my watch. It was still the afternoon. “No. No. I will not be here for dinner—”
“The boss wants you for several days.”
I shrieked, “Days? Oh God. That is not happening—”
“I will be back to get your order for dinner.” He left and closed the door.
I held my hands out. “What?”
Wait. I’m in here by myself. I can escape.
I opened the front door a few inches.
Two other armed men stood on the outside.
I shut the door.
Of course. I can’t go out that way.
I walked forward, taking in the condo’s floor-to-ceiling windows that stretched from wall-to-wall and overlooked the city.
In the living room, there was a lit fireplace on one side. In the center, a black couch stood next to a red table with a large white marble top.
The scent of expensive cigars and vanilla drifted in the air.
Where is the back exit?
I went down the hallway. My heels clicked on the white and black marble floor. Artwork of women in bondage adorned the walls.
Oh no. Is that what he’s into?
I hurried by the pictures.
Not happening. I’m getting out of here, before all of that.
There were only two doors at the end of the hallway.
I rushed to the first one and opened it.
The bedroom was five times the size of my mine. An enormous bed with red sheets sat in the center.
“Nope.” I quickly shut the door, went to the other one, and opened it.
