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“I really don’t care, Christian. What I need you to do is get this shit under control. Whoever this is obviously has connections. They’re getting too close, taking out soldiers and making their way up.”
“That won’t be us.” I stand and tap my knuckles on the desk. “I’ll get with Tony. We’ll deal with it.”
“Good. Don’t disappoint me.” Samuele says to my back.
When I reach the entryway, I rest a hand on the door. “And, Sam?” I throw over my shoulder.
He stares up at me, cigar in hand and the other filled with the images.
“I know you're the boss and my father, but don’t you ever disrespect my woman again.” And with that, I exit the room, not bothering to wait for a response.
7
SIN
This has got to end somehow.
My incessant pacing has gotten me nowhere. I’ve chewed my nails down to the quick but am no closer to a solution. The longer I stay around here, the more opportunity I give Christian and that sick father of his to tear me down. They want to break me for some twisted reason. I see where Christian gets it from because his old man is no better than he is. He might actually be worse. How lost does a person have to be to get to that point? Is there any humanity left in him?
What does it matter? I can ask myself these questions as many times as I want, and it doesn't solve anything. What would solve something would be getting out of here. Far away. I don't know where that would be or how I'd get there, but I'll be damned if I hang around here to be used and hurt for their amusement. I did nothing to deserve this.
Locked in this bedroom, though, I have limited options. Christian went somewhere again and, of course, didn’t see any reason to tell me where he went. There’s no way to know how long it will be before I’m allowed out again. I could have hours of this in front of me. Would it be too much for him to leave something to help me pass the time? I’ll have to ask him about that when he returns.
When the door opens out of nowhere, I think the time is now. Only it isn't Christian who steps through the door. It's a dark-haired young woman in a stiff gray dress that's a little too big for her tiny frame. A uniform. She's carrying fresh linens for the bed and towels to replace the ones in the bathroom.
I've never been so happy to see anybody except maybe when I saw Cynthia at the cabin. “Hi,” I say with a smile and a little wave. “How are you?”
Instead of answering, she offers a weak smile, then makes a beeline for the bed. She works quickly and efficiently, stripping the sheets and blankets, and pulling the pillowcases from the pillows. I might as well not be here.
“My name is Siân. What's yours?” When all she does is aggressively shove the pillows into new cases, I clear my throat. “Can you not hear me? I asked what your name is.”
She turns her head barely enough to look at me from the corner of her eye. “We aren't allowed to speak to guests.” Her voice is hushed, tight, with a thick Italian accent. The pillow has begun to shake.
She's terrified. Samuele’s cruelty doesn't stop with me, I guess.
What matters more right now is the fact that she left the door cracked open. Does she even know she did it? She never got the memo I'm supposed to be locked up.
This is it. The chance I've been waiting for. I back away slowly, my feet barely making a sound. She’s already turned her full attention back to the bed, so I make my move by ducking out through the partly open door and into the hall.
I can’t believe it. It worked. But my plan never went any further than getting through the locked door. What good does that do me if I don't know where to go?
This house is a maze. I've tried hard to remember how to get around, but now my heart is pounding so hard and my thoughts are flying so fast I can barely remember how to get down to the front door. I run blindly down the hall, passing one closed door after another before coming to a dead end. Dammit. I missed a turn somewhere. I double back, turning down another hall jutting off from the wing my room sits in. This time, I think I'm going the right way.
A man dressed in all black steps out from one of the rooms up ahead. I duck inside a deep doorway, my heart hammering, pressing myself to the door and hoping he can't see the tips of my shoes sticking out. His footsteps fade away. He went in the other direction. For once, something is going my way.
