December 14th
Chapter 14 — The Longest Day
The shift dragged on and the hours bent into each other, all sweat and the stench of stale whisky. Kateryna kept her face neutral, her voice soft, her body compliant. She was used to swallowing pain, but the weight of her friends’ absence pressed on her like a boot to the chest.
There had been no sign of either Tanya or Marta since last night, and no explanation. They’d simply vanished.
The women avoided one another’s eyes now. Even Alina kept her distance, and Kateryna noticed the way she flinched whenever Mace walked past.
Clients came and went. Most didn’t notice the tension, or didn’t care. They pawed and grunted, spilling lager-scented breath across her face.
One of them was part of a stag do. Red-faced and sweating buckets, he insisted on being first. The others jeered from reception as he made his way towards Kateryna’s room. Inside, he fumbled at his zip, then passed out across her before anything happened.
She lay trapped beneath him, his weight pinning her to the mattress. Her breaths came in short, shallow gulps. Her arms ached and her hip throbbed. But still she lay there, counting the seconds, pretending to sleep until Mace finally dragged him off and dumped him into the corridor like a sack of rubbish.
She dressed silently and returned to the dorm. No Tanya. No Marta.
She tried to find an excuse, any excuse, to ask about them. When Mace informed her of the next client, she asked, “Tanya not working today?”
He didn’t reply, just stared. Then, quick as a whip, his hand lashed out and her cheek exploded with heat.
“Ask again and you’ll find out the hard way,” he said.
Her eyes watered, but she held his gaze for one dangerous second. Then she lowered her head, as expected.
Inside the bathroom, she stared at the cistern lid, heart pounding. The burner phone was still there, but she didn’t dare touch it.
Not tonight.
Not when every footstep made her flinch.
Upstairs in the apartment, she curled up under the thin blanket, the skin on her cheek smarting where Mace’s hand had left its mark.
Where were they? Tanya, with her sharp tongue and bad teeth and fierce loyalty. Marta, quiet and strong, always watching.
She thought of the last look Tanya gave her before Mace beat her and hauled her away—half-defiant, half-resigned.
Was it like this for Bohdana?
Was this how it began?
She gripped the edge of the mattress until her knuckles turned white.
If Michael didn’t reply soon… if he was already caught—
She couldn’t finish the thought.
She just stared at the shadows and listened to the sound of breathing from the other bunks.
In the silence, a thought whispered louder than fear — she might be next.
***
