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He tilts his head while his eyes rove over the dress I’m wearing, then he mutters, “How do you plan to make thirty thousand in twenty-four hours?”
Jesus. That’s impossible.
“I need more time.” Like a year or so.
He leans back in his seat and crosses his legs. “You see, that’s my problem. I don’t have any time. My boss wants his thirty thousand now.”
Fuck you, Mandy. I swear if I ever see you again, I’m going to kill you.
“I don’t see why I have to pay Mandy’s debt. She’s not my mother,” I say, even though I know it won’t matter to these people.
He shrugs, not replying to what I just said. Taking a pack of smokes out, he lights one, giving me the impression he’s done talking.
I glance at the five men while wiggling my hands, but when the plastic digs into my skin, I stop. I look out the windows as we cross a bridge and wonder where they’re taking me.
I swallow to ease the dryness in my throat, then ask, “Where are we going?”
The man next to me hisses, “Shut up.”
“I just want–”
I’m slapped upside the head, the force of the blow stunning my mind, but it doesn’t stop me from stomping on the asshole’s boot with my five-inch heel.
“Give her something to relax,” the main guy mutters while flicking ash on the floor.
My eyes widen, and I shake my head wildly. “I’ll keep quiet.”
One of the assholes pulls an injection from his pocket, and when he takes the cap off, I’m up off the seat and staggering around in the small space in an attempt to get away from him.
I’m shoved off my feet, and when I hit the floor, I’m pushed onto my stomach. The needle breaking through my skin rips a cry from me.
I’ve seen how drugs have destroyed lives.
How it eats Mandy alive.
As a weird sensation starts to dull my mind, I gasp against the floor.
With every passing second, my body feels more and more sluggish, and my reality warps. It feels as if I’m stuck in a world where things spin too fast and super slow at the same time.
I’m left on the floor for the duration of the ride, lights and shadows blurring before my eyes.
Dario
When it feels like Eden’s been gone a long while, I get up and head out of the auditorium to see if she’s okay.
I don’t find her right outside the doors, and when I walk toward the lobby, I hear a phone ringing briefly before stopping.
As I reach the front desk, my eyes land on Quincy, unconscious next to his desk, and the phone starts ringing again.
“Fuck,” I gasp, and ignoring the device, I hurry to the security guard.
Seeing blood pooling beneath the side he’s lying on, shock vibrates through me. I dig my cell phone out and call 911, telling them to get an ambulance to the ballet company.
Glancing around to make sure there’s no immediate danger I have to deal with, I push Quincy onto his back, which has him groaning something I can’t make out.
“It’s okay. An ambulance is coming,” I say, hoping he can hear me. “What happened?”
“E…den,” he gasps.
