by K. J. Thomas
I can spot another guy off to the side. He has a few smears of blood on his hands and a dark spot on his dark shirt. Looking at his face it makes me gasp. His face is one of grief and undeniable despair. Something has deeply affected this guy. I’m afraid I might know what.
My head snaps around as I frantically start to look for my friend. My phone is yanked out of my hand and my bag is painfully dislodged from my shoulder. I glance back at Rocco, glaring at him for causing me pain and taking my shit. My focus goes back to looking for my friend, I need to find her. I know they just took my shit because they don’t want me calling for help or maybe even calling Asher. I’m not even sure if these guys know who I am. Hopefully they don’t, they don’t need to find out.
Despite the vultures getting ready to tear me apart, I spot Tate laying behind a couch.
When I see this I scream, the rage and fear I’m feeling coming out of me. I drop to my knees and start to crawl over there, wondering if I should keep screaming. Maybe someone will hear and help, Tate is not moving at all.
I don’t know what I’m gonna find, but I remember a while ago Tate informed me that the basement is soundproof. God, I should’ve made her tell me who owns this fucking house.
I say a silent prayer. I don’t pray very much; I should pray more. I need my friend to be okay. I glance back over my shoulder, as I’m still crawling to Tate, and look at her brothers. I want to lift myself up and run to her, but this feels like the safest way. It’s not looking good.
Both Rocco and Armani smirk, knowing exactly what I’m gonna find. Gino tries to mask his expression but it’s impossible for him as a lone tear comes down.
I snap my head back, fuck them. “God, Tate, please be okay,” I whisper.
Thirteen
AVERY
I honestly just wanna crawl into a ball and wish this was over. I haven’t seen Tate’s legs move once, they’re just still. Please don’t let her be dead.
Fuck this, I think to myself as I crawl faster. I don’t know why I feel the need to crawl. It’s a small space to maneuver around, but I have a feeling if I stand, my legs will give out.
I grip the side of the brown leather couch and glance over Tate. My eyes start at her feet and slowly work my way up. Everything is fine from the waist down, but that’s where it all changes.
There’s blood all over Tate’s face. “Oh my God,” I say as I try to trace every inch of her once beautiful skin. They just used her face for a punching bag. This isn’t a punishment, this is a woman who didn’t deserve this. These are people who get off on this.
The guys are in deep discussion, and Rocco keeps making Armani laugh. At least they’re giving me the chance to check over my friend. I imagine they believe the same is waiting for me. Hopefully they don’t know who I am, but I doubt that, especially with the smirk Armani has plastered to his face.
Tate’s eyes find me, my friend is fine and very alert and very fucking pissed. I don’t blame her. Normally brothers are supposed to protect their sisters, not be the cause. Maybe she was trying to play dead or knocked out, to keep them off her for a while.
I can see why she’s laying on her side. Her left arm is cushioned comfortably underneath. Her right arm is on the top, the one that happens to be bent in a weird angle.
She’s wearing jeans and a T-shirt but who knows what’s underneath, it looks like she put up somewhat of a fight. There’s only a tiny mark on them. Tate: 0 Bros: 413
I quickly glance down at my clothes and thank the heavens that I’m wearing a pair of leggings and a T-shirt. I was comfortable today; I don’t give a shit what anybody else says. The T-shirt’s a little long and tight, so it’s not like I’m trying to hide anything, perfect for fighting.
From what I can tell, but don’t know for sure, it’s underneath the clothes, Tate has one broken arm and one smashed nose. I imagine there are more broken facial bones. There’s a huge gaping cut above her eye and one by her hairline.
I help Tate to sit up. If we’re going to get out of this, we’re not gonna be able to do it laying down, she might not be able to fight but she can run, I hope.
The guys move closer to us. Gino and Rocco are flanking Armani right in front of where we’re sitting.
“Did baby Romano come to save my sister?” I know I go pale instantly. I have no freaking clue how he would know exactly who I am. Unless Asher told him. I don’t see that happening.
My eyes snap over to Tate and she’s wearing the same expression as I am. There’s no time right now to try and explain or make her feel better. We have to figure out how to get out of this.
I jump to my feet. I know how this is exactly going down. I’ve been around all these types of men in my life, Armani is basically looking for entertainment.
There’d be no reason he’d be here doing this to his sister, except if he got a rise out of it, he’s a sick fuck.
Rocco’s the same way, but he’s probably doing it more for his brother than to get a rise out of anybody. He’s an ass-kisser, a suck-up.
Gino Mancini is a whole other story. This one has a heart and soul; you can see it written across his face. But the one thing he’s lacking like most men are balls. This might be tearing him up inside, killing him to watch his sister go through this, but he sure as shit isn’t doing anything about it.
He might be able to ease her pain sometimes. Since he’s not helping, then he’s part of the problem. He’s in the same boat to me as the rest of them, and he deserves to go down, also. His sister is over here in excruciating pain while he stands over there in a circle with his brothers, fuck all of them.
Gino gets between Armani and I, trying to keep the peace. Maybe because I’m standing up, he thinks his brother’s going to try and attack me, let the bitch come. I fight the best when I’m mad.
I wish Tate was one hundred percent, because we might have a fighting chance then. I can take a lot, I’ve done a lot, but I just don’t know if I can take on three made men, high up and probably have had extensive training.
I’m gonna make sure I knee the fucker in the nards, screw these little bitches.
The guys move out of nowhere, I didn’t see them coming. All three of them moved at the same time. Armani didn’t blink his eyes twice and shake his head back-and-forth, no they all just moved at once, synchronized.
Rocco grabs me from behind yanking my arms behind my back. I learned during training this position doesn’t leave many ways to get out, but there are still one or two.
“Romano trash,” Armani snaps at me as he gets in my face. “Does your grandpa know that you’re here? Does he know that you might reach the end of your life, little Romano?
Tate’s eyes are wide again. If you’re on the inside, which all of us in here are, you’ve heard the stories. People know what happened to my parents and they know who my grandfather is. Most people just don’t know about me and that makes sense. I can understand why they didn’t want who I am to be brought to light, why they had me hidden, if you will.
My grandfather is a family man, but he’s also a ruthless killer and everybody knows this. At least everything’s making more sense before I reach my demise.
The grip that Rocco has on me is extremely tight, he’s fucking strong, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to break away.
I figured Armani would start pounding the shit out of my face, but he doesn’t. Instead, he walks over to Tate who’s leaning on the couch to help her stand upright.
“My sister also needs to be taught a lesson about hanging out with the enemy. There’s only one reason to be around the enemy, and that’s to end them. It’s not to become fucking friends!” He yells the last part, causing both Tate and I to shake.
He doesn’t say anything else as he walks over to Tate and fully punches her right in the side of the head. The crack from the hit is deafening before she plows down onto the cement floor. Her head bounces off the hard concrete, and suddenly I hear screaming.
The screaming stopped when Rocco put his han
d over my mouth.
It didn’t hit before, but there’s brown stains all over the cement basement. What did they do to her?
I see red, it’s boiling in my blood, making me angry. My body is shaking, not from fear like what they must think. But from the anger radiating through every cell fighting to get out, fighting to make an appearance and show these fuckers what Romano women can do.
Rocco relaxes sometime after I go completely still watching Tate fall. I know he didn’t do it as hard as he needed to in the first place, because none of them know how trained I am. They don’t train the women. We’re usually sold off to the highest bidding-future-husband. We’re sold so families can unite and get bigger, so they can take down each other.
This dumbass is relaxed just enough so I can yank my right hand out of his hold. I know he’s going to grab my left hand harder, which he does. At the same time, my right hand swings and I manage to clock Rocco right on the side of the face, where Tate was hit.
Rocco screams out and lets me go. Both of his hands grab his face. Being hit in the nose hurts like a motherfucker, the blood vessels in the nose just seem to pour. I smile. I know whatever is coming, it’s gonna hurt, but this is worth it.
I glance at Tate one more time before I start to move to the other side of the room. They have the pussy watching the door so nobody can escape. I guess he’s good for something.
If the last punch doesn’t do Tate in, then the next punch will. I know it’s up to me to defeat these guys, somehow. I’ve got to do something. If she gets hit one more time she’s done for, there’s just no way her body can handle anymore.
I look around, and the only way out is through the door that they have guarded by Gino. I don’t have long but within seconds I need to weigh my options. The best one for me personally would be to knock Gino out of the way. I don’t think he would help me, but then again maybe they’ll kill him if I get by.
I can’t leave Tate; they might end up taking her back with them. Hopefully, they didn’t plan on leaving her here to die. Either way I would look at it as she’d be lost forever. I’m staying.
I want to clear my throat and just scream as loud as possible, but with the door shut and us being downstairs, the guards outside won’t hear me. Plus, let’s not forget the fact that this whole area is soundproof.
Who the fuck owns his house?
Armani and Rocco are inching their way closer, coming up on both my left and right side. He saw me punch Rocco, so they know that I can do a little damage, they just don’t know to what extent. That’s going to save me a little bit of time so I can come up with a fucking plan, I just need to think.
Tate groans to the side of me. I don’t bend down, I just look between her and the guys.
“Avery, run,” she manages to croak out before blackness pulls her under again.
“I love you,” I whisper. Tate has literally saved my life with all the shit that was going on. I just wish I would’ve told her everything. If we get out of this, her and I are talking.
The area around her head slowly pools with blood, not enough to be like, she’s gone, but enough to be like holy fuck we need to do something.
Armani decides for us as he runs at me like a full-on linebacker. These guys must not get very many women.
He slams into me hard from the front knocking me against the cement wall. I hit my head, but since I wasn’t unconscious and was prepared, I was able to keep my head up as he slams me painfully into the wall. I’m glad I held my head up or I’d be bleeding like Tate.
It knocks the wind right out of me as I fall. Armani starts to kick me everywhere: my ribs, chest, legs, hips and arms. I’m covering my head, so at least there’s that.
I can hear chuckling from Rocco and whimpering from Gino. I can’t let him continue to keep kicking me. The pain is indescribable.
I glance out from behind my hands that are protecting my head and spot an opening. I jerk my feet across the cement floor and knock his legs out from underneath him.
I know I shouldn’t, but I start laughing as I point at Armani when his head hits the cement floor. Asshole, they all deserve this.
I shouldn’t have done that. Rocco takes his place and comes over and starts hitting and kicking. Not nearly as hard. He’s mad so he’s not focusing and concentrating to make sure he even gets some good shots in.
Armani gets up, a little disoriented and sees Rocco still beating on me. He moves over to Tate and kicks her in the head one more time for good measure to show me that he’s fucking pissed.
I do know one thing for sure, these three shouldn’t be allowed to breathe anymore. Gino might be okay, but that is still to be decided. They shouldn’t even be able to be in the same room as women, children and animals. You could just tell what type they are. They need a fucking man to put them in their place. Or someone that’s at least a lot stronger.
I start to curl tighter as the pain’s getting more unbearable. I need to find another opening. God I just wish it was me and Armani, and I had a knife.
Tate whimpers, but she’s out cold again so her body must’ve felt that blow.
I give it everything I have; whatever reserves are left in my chamber. I push on my feet standing up, barely ducking as Rocco swings at me.
I manage to get one throat punch with my palm to Rocco’s neck. I only had about half the power that I normally do, but that’s enough to leave him wounded and backing away.
That was easier than I thought. One down, one to go.
Armani runs back over to me, his face bright red, not just from the blood all over it, he is radiating with anger. He cracks me in the face one more time, but this time he put everything he had left in it.
My head knocks back and my legs give out underneath me. I fall straight down. Thankfully, I don’t go over like Tate did, I fall straight on my legs, my head still flops to the side. I hear a crack, then it’s lights out.
I’M NOT UNCONSCIOUS for that long, maybe a few minutes at most. When I wake up, Armani is frantically pacing back-and-forth on his cell phone.
“Fuck. I’m not finished here yet. I want to take Tate back with us and get rid of her fucking friend.” Armani screams in the phone, then snaps at Rocco, “let’s go.”
They both quickly make their way out of the basement and most likely the house, not looking back once. Gino jumps over me so that he can get to Tate.
“I am so sorry, I am so, so, sorry.” My head is pounding, so it’s hard to watch them. If he honestly felt even a molecule of remorse he would’ve stepped in and protected her from getting hit.
I can feel him when he stands next to me, his shoes are right by my head. I try to glance up. Fresh tears clear a path from the blood and what looks to be dirt, or maybe it was just dried blood, on his face.
“I don’t know you but thank you for looking out for her.” I give him a what-the-fuck look as I shake my head and then flip him off. I want to open my mouth and say something, but my head is killing me.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen anybody look more dejected then after I just flipped off Gino. This guy needs some fucking therapy, he needs to get away from the Mancini’s. That’s the only thing that’ll save his dumb ass.
I drift back in and out of consciousness. I’m sure it’s only for several seconds, I’m fighting to stay awake.
My head is telling me to jump up and get us out of there. On the other side of the room, I spot what I think is my backpack, which probably has my cell phone right by it.
It took an extreme amount of effort just to look. My head is pounding. I can hear the raspy breath coming from Tate, so I know she’s still alive.
They left fast, hopefully help is on the way, especially with the text messages I sent. Or maybe the guards are trying to get in. The men won’t leave us down here that long, especially when one of the Mancini’s walk out of the basement bleeding and fucked up.
I give in and I close my eyes and finally relax. I will always be irritated with myself for making this choice, but
I’m so tired, I have nothing left to give.
STOMPING IS HEARD IN every direction, but I can’t make out where anything is. It’s pitch black now, I can’t see anything in front of me.
I start to feel around, trying to figure out where the fuck I’m at and why my head hurts so much. Then I remember everything that happened.
“Tate, Tate, please respond to me. At least groan or whimper to let me know what direction you’re in.” Nothing.
The stomping gets louder. This had to be what woke me up or the pain. I swear my head hurts more than it did from when I passed out earlier. My hands are covering my head. I’m in a sitting position now, groaning and rocking back-and-forth.
The light flicks on making me cry out, but they must leave it on for Tate. I don’t even attempt to open my eyes, but the blinding light is unbearable even with my eyes closed. Footsteps run by me making their way to a more injured Tate.
“Tate, come on baby, I got you.” I can’t tell who’s got her, I’m fighting with everything I’ve got to stay awake.
“Avery, Avery.” Someone gets my attention. I do everything I can to focus on them, but everything is moving so slow and I’m extremely tired.
I’m lifted carefully and slowly into someone’s arms, the pain is still relentless, almost unbearable.
I pray to God that my best friend’s okay and I hope I never have to see this basement again, that is the last thing I think before I blackout.
Fourteen
ASHER
I wait for over an hour for an emergency meeting that never even fucking bothered to show up. It was called as an emergency, so somebody should be here. Something’s going on, I’ve got this feeling deep down in my gut. Despite this missed meeting, I’ve had a weird feeling so far.
The timing of everything seems fishy. I had my guys check out who requested the meeting, and everything came back through okay. We’ve dealt with these people before, the Armenians.