“Don’t try to make any surprising moves.”
“She smells, goodness,” one of the men walking behind us murmured. His voice slithered over my skin like oil. “And whose fault is it, bastard?” I snapped at him, the anger giving me brief strength.
“Watch your language, bitch.” The bastard yanked my hair from behind and a scream escaped my mouth, sharp and raw.
“Good that you have reached this house. That’s the way you gonna start screaming beneath us,” the one with his grip on my wrist said with a smirk on his face. His teeth glinted faintly when he grinned.
I didn’t respond, I just had my eyes on the house.
The furnishing was reddish brown and everything was open. Wide hallways, velvet curtains, dim lanterns casting blood-colored shadows. There were two girls seated on the sofas, a drink in
