Motorcycle Man

Chapter Twenty-Nine Mr. Allen Needs a Lesson

“Shame,” Grigori Lescheva muttered, lounging in a chair opposite where I was tied to mine, duct tape over my mouth, his eyes on me. “You’re very attractive.”

I was breathing heavily through my nose. I had no idea how easy it was to breathe, having two choices to use to take in air. Now, only having one, it wasn’t so easy.

Not to mention, I was terrified out of my mind. It was hard to breathe when you were scared shitless.

“Such extraordinary hair,” he continued. “And so much of it.”

I didn’t say anything because I couldn’t. Even if I could, I wouldn’t.

“Auburn,” he whispered.

God, he was creeping me out.

“We could work something out, you and I,” he went on as I sucked in breath through my nose and my pulse spiked. “However, I think Mr. Allen needs a lesson.”

Oh God.

He tipped his eyes to the side then he tipped his chin up.

The man came toward me. My eyes darted his way and stayed glued to him as I panted through my nose, struggled against my bonds but it was no use.

He didn’t hesitate before he sunk the blade in my flesh.