Chapter Twenty-Nine
Georgette knew she had been railroaded; that once she went through the bedroom door, all the talking and fussing and compassion could only lead to one thing: The old guy may be seventy-eight but he wanted her to trade s*x for free passage out of Russia. The decision was hers. She could go service the guy or go back to Chenkov’s house of horrors. Georgette stood up from the table. “Go for a drive,” she told Alex. “Make it half-an-hour.”
Alex nodded and pick up the keys to the truck. Georgette walked him to the door and heard him drive off. She waited, listening to the silence drifting in to fill the house. She thought of Robert for a moment; the boy she loved; then turned and went in to the old man.
He lay on his back along the narrow bed. He looked dead already: Ever
