getaway car; fast and furious

chapter 4

"Again."

The ballerina danced across the floor with upmost beauty, her movements fluid and angelic. Her red hair flowed around her shoulders and a black leotard clung to her body.

Scarlett pointe shoes hit the floor in a constant rhythm as she worked through her routine again. And again. And again.

A sharp cane met the back of he leg as the man walked around her with critical eyes. "Again."

Evelyn's lungs heaved as she danced the same dance for the twentieth time this hour. She could feel the blood filling her shoes, the squelch of the liquid irksome.

A buzzing to her left hit her ears but she didn't dare turn. She kept her chin held high and toes pointed as she turned and jumped.

"останавливаться." A deep voice called sternly, Evelyn's feet immediately coming to a halt. (Stop.)

Josh's dark presence sent a chill down her spine as he walked around her until he was just before her, his face centimeters from her own.

Evelyn tried her hardest not to flinch when he grabbed her leg, bending it at the knee to grasp her foot. He carefully picked at the dark ribbon until it fell from around her ankle. She winced as he pulled the slipper off and let it clatter to the floor.

The man tutted as he saw her foot, once white bandages soaked with red and dripping onto the wood floor. It was a disgusting sight and would've made the average person's stomach turn.

But not Josh.

No, he thrived off the sight. It's how he knew she was strong.

If the enemy couldn't see her bleed, couldn't see her in pain, then she wouldn't look weak.

It was why he forced her into scarlett pointe shoes. The blood was masked with the fabric just like her pain was masked with a cold expression.

"У меня есть для тебя миссия." He dropped her leg back to the floor and walked away, hands clasped at the small of his back. (I have a mission for you.)

"Когда?" Evelyn sat on the hard floor to retie her slipper. (When?)

"Завтра." Josh came to a stop, staring down at the woman. "Ты возьмешь ее." (Tomorrow. You will take her.)

The ginger snapped her head up, a look of disapproval in her eye. He tilted his head, challenging her. "Есть проблема?" (Is there a problem?)

Hesitantly, she shook her head, dropping her gaze back down to the red silk.

"Хороший." Josh moved, stepping towards the door as an agent held it open. (Good.)

When the door slammed shut, her shoulders slacked. A whimper fell past her lips as she flexed her foot.

A rough hand gripped her upper arm and easily pulled her up. She didn't fight it as she was pulled to another door and pushed inside. It closed behind her and she was left to the dim lighting and sparse furniture.

She took a seat on one of the two twin mattresses in the room, the springs digging uncomfortably into her thighs.

Eve laid flat on it, squeezing her eyes shut in hopes of falling asleep. For the five months of captivity, on the nights she managed to catch some sleep, it was filled with nightmares. Ones of past memories, ones of false realities. She would see faces — Deckard's, Dom's, Brian's, Letty's, Mia's — ones of whom she hurt. They begged her to stop killing, to come home. But even in her dreams she was trapped.

The door opening made her eyelids part and head pick up. Her brown eyes glanced to the door and the figure that stepped inside.

The frame was short and thin, having been practically starved for months.