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I nod once before I leave.
Mariella
ChapterThirty-Two
Ever since Vicente told me Fred’s in the mafia I haven’t wanted to leave my apartment, afraid of running into him. But the truth of the matter is, I don’t even know for sure if he’s telling the truth. This could be another one of his manipulation tactics to keep me away from Fred.
Staying in for the weekend was fine, because I was off Saturday and Sunday, but today I have to go back to work. So after getting dressed, I head to the casino with the plan to talk to Mr. Whitlock about helping in the kitchen. I’ve finally got my certification from culinary school, so I’m hoping I can start working with the chefs. Eventually, I’ll want to work in a different restaurant, become the head chef, and then get my own restaurant. I know that’s years away, but it’s still possible and I have to start somewhere.
Caught up in my daydreams, I’m hardly aware of my whereabouts until someone is next to me, so close that their arm is rubbing against mine.
When I turn to see who it is, I do my best to hide my panic when I see Fred’s face.
“Oh hey,” I say in a voice too high and with a smile too forced.
“Hey,” he greets with a grin. “I tried getting your attention a few times. Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s okay. Just dreaming about the future.”
“That’s always nice.”
I pause for a second. “You heading to work, too?”
He looks at his watch. “Soon.”
Our interaction feels awkward, and I know it’s my fault. I’m not only concerned with what Vicente told me, but the fact that the last time I saw him, I was running from Jian and Tommy, afraid for myself, but also for Fred. He looked so confused and concerned. Nothing is adding up.
When we’re waiting to cross the street at a stoplight, I say, “Sorry about Friday night. That was kinda weird.”
He snorts. “Kind of an understatement, but it’s okay if you’re okay.”
I nod. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Your ex didn’t get in touch with you, did he? Seems sort of controlling if he’s having his friends watch you.”
I shake my head. “It’s really fine. Sounds worse than it is, I suppose.” Hairs start standing up on the back of my neck.
Fred checks for moving vehicles prior to us stepping into the street. Before we get to the sidewalk, a black car pulls up, blocking us.
“What the hell?” I complain.
“Sorry, doll,” Fred says, his voice changing slightly. “You shouldn’t have gotten involved with that psychopath.”
“What?” I exclaim. Fear swirling in my stomach, creating knots.
He yanks open the back door of the car and pushes me inside.
“No, no!” I scream.
His hand is over my mouth in a second, pressed tight against my lips.
“Go,” he directs the driver, closing the door behind him.
Panic and fear slither down my throat, settling heavy in my gut. I want to throw up and cry, but mostly I want to fight back.
I shift in my seat, my fingernails running down his face before I bring my legs up and try kicking him away.
He releases his hold on my mouth. “Fucking bitch! You stupid whore.”
