It was stuffy inside from the heat of a homemade stove, thick with cigarette smoke and the smell of motor oil. Baldy slammed the heavy metal door shut and dropped the bolt.
Leah could feel her heart pounding so hard it seemed to shake her ribs. But she kept her face relaxed and held onto that practiced smile.
Gene tore off the tape, opened the first bottle, and poured the dark red liquid into dirty glasses. “Go ahead,” he said. “Drink first. Show us you didn’t bring us poison.”
Leah took the glass and, without letting her hand shake, swallowed a good mouthful.
The wine was syrupy sweet with just a trace of bitterness, but the bitterness disappeared under the rest of it. She wiped her mouth and handed the half-empty glass back.
“See? It’s fine.”
That was enough for them. The four men tossed back their drinks in one go, then poured another round right away. The first bottle disappeared fast.
“You’re not as dumb as I thought,” Gene said, staring at Leah with open hunger. “I think we’re going to have ourselves a pretty good night.”
“Just remember,” he added, “this time you don’t fight.”
“I won’t,” Leah said quietly.
Inside, she was shaking with disgust and hatred. But she stayed in character.
“I’m not here to make trouble.”
Victor opened the second bottle. The men drank greedily, chasing the wine with stale bread and cheap sausage. As they got drunker, they grew louder and sloppier. Alex had already started pawing at Leah’s leg, while Baldy sat there with a stupid grin, staring at her.
About twenty minutes after they opened the second bottle, Baldy was the first to slump. “Man, that stuff hit me hard,” he muttered, and dropped his head onto the table.
Victor tried to stand, but his legs gave way and he grabbed the edge of the workbench. “Something’s wrong with that wine…” he managed to say before sliding down to the concrete floor.
His eyes shut against his will. Gene and Alex understood almost at the same moment what was happening…
