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She’s crying now, I can see the shine of the tears streaming down her cheeks and I can hear her sobs. The two of them, her and Raul just won’t stop, and I am on the verge of a complete mental break when I carry the crying infant who refuses to drink the bottle I have just prepared, down to the cellar door. I stand there, her sobs muffled by the thick walls and locked door. I shouldn’t go in there, looking at her does things to me, and I am not sure I like it.
Opening the door, I watch as she sits up with a fright and quickly wipes her face. She doesn’t want me to see her cry — I have been watching her for hours. Her tears do nothing to change the need in me to exact vengeance.
“What’s the matter?” she asks looking at my screeching nephew.
“What is the matter? Lucia, funny you should ask me that,” I say, trying not to yell over the crying infant, “I don’t know, his entire family is dead, and I am all he has. I don’t fucking do babies and he wants his mother. What’s the matter Lucia? You tell me, this is what your family did. You ripped him from his mother. Literally shot her and he tumbled to the floor bruising his fragile baby body.” I hold him up so she can see his teary eyes and red cheeks. Her eyes are wide, and I see the pitiful look in her eyes. “He won’t eat, or sleep, he cries all day. You did this. Your family took the happy little baby and ruined his whole life.” Lucia wipes a tear that leaks out without warning. “So, who should pay for this? What is the price for ruining his future and stealing his family from him? You tell me Lucia, should I kill your father and leave you an orphan? No, should I kill you and leave him a grieving father? I haven’t decided — yet. So, I took you from them until I know what it is I want to do to make sure the debt is paid in full.” I yell at her, louder than before, mostly because he won’t stop crying long enough for me to think. “Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you right fucking now.” I scream now, my voice resonating though the room, my rage will no longer be tamed. Lucia is crying as loudly as Raul now, and she covers her eyes with her hands. She can’t even look at us, the cowardly bitch.
“I can help you with him,” she stutters out between breaths, “I can help, let me try feed him.” Lucia reaches for the baby, and I don’t move, I just let her take him in her arms. She grabs his bottle and cradles him as if she has done it a million times before. He stops crying, the noise stops, oh thank fucking God. I close my eyes and just soak in the silence, she talks to him softly. She steps from side to side, rocking him very gently.
I can’t believe my eyes, or ears when he drinks his bottle without a single scream, he not trying squirm out of her arms or wailing like he is being murdered. “Shhh.” Lucia smiles at the cherub faced child in her arms. “It’s not his fault little guy, you can’t scream at him like that.” Her voice is like balm on an open wound. It soothes the agony of the past few days for me and the child. Lucia looks up at me, and studies my face for a minute before she says. “Go get some sleep, Salvatore, I will watch him for you. I can see you haven’t slept, you look like shit.” Brutal honesty. I don’t like it, but it is the truth. “He is fine here with me, I can’t exactly go anywhere.” The offer is too good to refuse and watching her with him is doing dangerous things to my mind and my dick. Before I can think too much I get out of there, and dash back into the house. It’s quiet, so quiet. I can think — I can breathe. I can sleep.
The bed is like heaven as I fall over onto it, and close my eyes, the soft blankets swallow me up. There hasn’t been any real rest since I arrived here, and my mind and body have taken as much as they can. I blissfully drift away into an almost blacked-out slumber, as if I am not merely asleep but unconscious.
I don’t know how long I sleep for but when I wake up my body no longer vibrates with the shudder of only caffeine to keep it upright. My mind is no longer hazy and dull, my thoughts are shaper and clearer. I had pushed past the point where I could function, and now sleep had restored some of what I had damaged. “Shit.” I blurt out when I realize I haven’t a clue how long it has been, and I left Raul with Lucia — I don’t even know if I can trust her. I was just tired, and I lost my mind to the absolute exhaustion. The brain fog of all that has happened
I scramble out of the room and straight into my head of security as I panic at my complete lapse in good judgement.
“Where’s the baby?” I yell at him. It isn’t his fault, but I need to know my nephew is safe.
“He is with her, I took down extra bottles and diapers, but he seemed happy and quiet, and she said you left him there—”
“I did, I did, I just—” fuck it, “I needed to sleep, and I wasn’t thinking.” I need to go get him away from her. I am about to push past him when he says,
“I will go get him and bring him up. There’s dinner in the kitchen, sleep alone won’t save you. Go eat.” I am hungry, and it’s already after dark. I slept almost all day — that’s madness.
“Thank you,” I mutter, trying to pull myself back together and wrap my head around leaving Raul with my enemy. How mad had I gone from lack of sleep? No wonder they use it as a torture method. The kitchen is warm and smells good. The island house is managed by a member of the security team, who, thank fuck, can cook and clean. Otherwise, we might have all died already.
“Glad to see you took a bit of a rest,” he says dishing food up for me, “you were a bit of a train wreck.”
I was fine, I lie to myself. I wasn’t, but I had no choice. I take the food and go to my office where I can see Lucia and Raul both asleep on the small sofa. My security takes him from her, and she wakes with a soft smile and kisses his forehead goodnight. I would never imagine her being good with children, she never struck me as the type. She likes shopping and handbags and expensive things.
She moves from the sofa to the bed, climbs under the covers and turns so I cannot see her face. I have watched her in bed before, only she was pleasuring herself, not sleeping with the covers pulled up over her head. I miss watching her, jerking off to the sight of her orgasming. Knowing she was thinking about me when she did, there was as connection, and it may be stupid, but I miss it. It felt good that my words turned her on, and that she liked me. Not many people like me, I am not a likable man.
Raul doesn’t wake, he settles to sleep in the crib, and after the good food I turn to good whiskey, trying to drown out some of what of I am feeling for Lucia. She managed to calm the baby down and turn me on without doing anything. Even filthy, and in a mess, she is attractive to me. I must be sick in the head, but I like her way more than I should.
I have had more than half the bottle, there’s only a tipple left in the bottom and I have had too much too fast. The whirlwind of bad ideas is only getting stronger. Becoming a tornado of inappropriate thoughts, and when I stagger my dunk ass downstairs, I already know she’s awake. I was watching her.
She is sitting up on the bed twisting strands of her messy hair into knots. She was restless and thrashed around the bed in her sleep. I wondered what she was dreaming about, if it was me? I would like to think she still has sexy thoughts of me, that those things she did and said haven’t changed.
“Sal,” she says seeing me in the doorway. I push the door wide open. Without saying a word, I step to the side gesturing that she can leave if she wants to. She can’t go anywhere, it will be fun to watch her try though. I laugh as she slowly walks up to me, and then looks to see if anything dangerous is waiting for her — bit late for that now she’s already been kidnapped. I chuckle at her sudden cautiousness, and she gives me a filthy look. “Are you drunk?” she asks me and I smile and nod. I am definitely plastered and will almost certainly regret this when I sober up.
“You can go,” I slur the words out, and laugh when she bolts. Lucia runs as fast as her sexy fucking legs will carry her away from the house. “Fuck.” I watch until she is lost in the darkness and go back into my office where I can watch her as she discovers she is still my prisoner, she just has an island shaped cell. No one can get away, this place is like Alcatraz, only better. I have sharks in the waters surrounding my island.
I laugh because I am drunk. Her panicked running is funny, and anything is funny when you have been alone for long enough. “Where are you going to go Lucia?” I say as I watch her standing on the white sands of the beach-y side of the island. There is no other land mass for hundreds of miles. She can’t swim that far, she is not a fish.
She starts to run along the shoreline, as if she expects to find help. She will not find anything. She is going to run, and walk, and clamber over rocks, and end up right back where she started. It might take her all night, although she is fast. I watch as her expression goes from hopeful, to tired, to lost and then when she arrives back at the dock, her shoulders slump forward.
Lucia looks up at the house and straight through the camera into my soul. She is defeated. The fight is gone, the flight has flown, and she collapses to sit on the edge of the dock. Her head is down and her long legs dangle over the edge. Even in her disappointment I see something beautiful beneath the surface. Lucia is not who she lets the world see, and maybe this place will be good for her too.
I watch her through the filter of a bottle of whiskey and wonder if she really fell for the version of me she met online? Or was it just a game? She likes games. I am tired — and bombed — and stupid for bringing her here.
Perhaps I was stupid for bringing us both here.
But I am too drunk to care right now. And there’s nowhere for her to go, so for the time being, I drink away my thoughts of her and my worries about everything else.
CHAPTER9
Lucia
