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I flinch as a hand grabs my face, squeezing my cheeks. “Such a pretty thing. Be a shame to just kill her.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll get your turn with her when all this is over. We all will.”
The hand pushes me backwards by my face. Both men chuckle as I stumble into some kind of desk and fall to the ground, which feels like wood flooring. Still unable to see well, I’m forced to use the desk to get back up, my body barely cooperating because of the drugs.
“You have another zip tie? I want to do her hands again.”
They push me back to the ground and force my wrists behind my back as I curl in the fetal position. A plastic zip tie goes around my wrists, and they pull it tight enough to hurt. I whimper, lacking the strength to resist them. It’s a lot harder to return to my feet this time, and they don’t help me in any way.
I lean against the desk for support, and behind me, my hands find an object that I recognize. It’s a Bic lighter. Praying they can’t see what I’m doing, I slip it into the back pocket of my jeans.
“Put her in the basement,” says Sal. My blurry vision is starting to focus, just in time for him to lead me down a flight of stairs and into a dark room. He shoves me to the floor again, and it’s especially painful without my hands to break my fall. He flicks on a light and secures my ankles with another zip tie.
“Don’t worry, you’ll see me again,” he winks as he walks back up the stairs. “I know you like fucking the boss of the Rossi family. So I’ll keep you around after I take over. For a while, at least. And you can still fuck the boss of the Rossi family.”
He turns off the light and closes the door behind him.
Immediately, I pull the lighter out of my pocket. Then I start squirming, trying to get my hands past my legs so they’re in front of me. I only barely have the flexibility to do it, so Ikick off my shoes to make more room. The plastic digs painfully into my wrists as I squeeze them over my butt, and finally, past my feet.
Once my hands are in front of me, I grab the Bic. I lie on my side, trying to find a way to position the lighter so that I can flick it.
When I finally get a flame, it slips out of my hand. Whispering a swear word, I feel around the dusty cement floor to retrieve it, and my hand finds a rubber band that’s probably been there for years.
Wait. Could that work? I put the rubber band around the lighter vertically, so it’s holding the button down, then take about 20 tries to get a flame lit with the rubber band still in place. Eventually, it stays on.
Fuck yeah.
Hands shaking, I balance the lighter upright on the floor and mentally prepare myself for what I’m about to do.
This is definitely going to hurt.
I grit my teeth as I hold the zip tie over the flame. It stings, no matter how I position it. But I can see it sizzling, smell the awful scent of burning plastic.
Ow!The skin on my wrists starts to burn so much I have to stop. The zip tie isn’t fully melted through, but it’s most of the way there. I put one of my knees between my wrists and push until the plastic snaps.
I stay still, terrified they will have heard me from upstairs. When the door to the basement doesn’t open, I take a deep breath and set about using the lighter to free my feet.
Chapter Sixty-Five
Alessandro
I feel like shit when I open my eyes. Where the fuck am I?
I’m standing up. But not with my own strength. As I process my surroundings, I realize my feet are tied to a pole, my arms sticking out and tied to a crossbeam.
The way I’m positioned, it’s like I’m Jesus on the cross. I’m even shirtless.
I sure as shit don’tfeellike Jesus. Maybe Jesus after a bad night of drinking. I try to move my arms, testing the tightness of my restraints.
They’re tight enough.
“Oh good, you’re awake,” says a voice from across the room. Gio the Butcher walks over to me, grinning. “I didn’t want to start while you were still asleep.”
I scan the room around me. Windowless, clean, and bright, with cleavers, hacksaws, corkscrews, and other horrifying implements lining the walls.
It’s a fucking murder dungeon.
Gio produces a scalpel, sliding it slowly down my cheek. I try not to wince, very aware of how easily it could pierce my skin. “You’re brave, I’ll give you credit. We’ll see how long that lasts.”
