by Leah Holt
I'm getting sloppy. I'm not thinking clearly.
All the drawers were on the floor, papers were strewn about, piled on each other like leaves. The pictures had been shoved off the desk, the closet spewing all its insides. And in the center of the mess was my mother's purse, torn apart and empty.
Why?
Why would she do this?
“Will you hear me out now? Are you ready to stop being so fucking thick headed and listen to me?”
Facing my brother, my hands were limp by my sides. “I have to find her, Sesto, I have to get to her right now.”
“Let's go.” Holding the door, Sesto nodded for me follow. “We can talk on the way, you need to hear this.”
Eighteen
Ivy
Crouching in the corner, I hugged my knees. Tears streaked down my cheeks as I cried and sobbed.
I'm so fucking stupid!
How could I be so stupid!?
Slamming a fist into the ground, a gentle whistle hissed through the small room, reminding me I wasn't alone. I wasn't completely sure, but I was almost certain the man on the ground beside me was Vince. It was hard to tell because his face was so swollen, but I knew Remo hadn't spared him one bit.
His eyes were as large as golf balls, protruding out from the sockets.. The skin on his lids were stretched so thin, that his lifeless gaze peered out, glowing like faint flames off a distant candle. His lips were split into sections with thick chunks of flesh hanging off, his hair was dirty and crusted to his forehead.
I watched him, his chest rising and falling so shallow that I expected each breath to be his last.
The guy was hanging on, but it wasn't Dante, and I was grateful for that.
Vince hadn't moved once since Remo shoved me inside, snagging the knife off the floor after I dropped it. When the metal hit the hard ground, the clank it made sent a shockwave through my system. I had lost my only form of protection, my one tool to keep Remo away.
And now I had nothing, nothing to fend off a hungry vulture like him.
Maybe he has something. . .
There's a chance.
Crawling across the floor, I felt Vince's pockets, checking him for a gun, a weapon, anything that might keep me alive. But he had been stripped clean, his clothes were empty, his waist was bare, and my heart sunk into the fiery pit of my core.
Even the restraints used to keep him trapped had been removed. The only reminder they were even there were thick, bruised indentations of braided chain links on his skin.
Shit.
No. No. No.
Raking my hands through my hair, I slid Vince's arms back onto his chest. The bones crunched and scraped against each other, making me cringe.
His arms were broken, fingers bent over in the opposite direction. Swallowing hard, I forced my stomach to steady and not dispose of its contents on the floor.
Fuck!
How the fuck did this happen?
All of this had been a ruse, an evil trick to lure me here. Remo never had Dante, he just used that to force my hand. I just couldn't figure out how he knew I was alone.
He had to know, I couldn't imagine he would have pulled that shit if Dante had been with me. It wouldn't have worked.
He was watching us.
The thought made me shiver, chilling my spine and freezing my veins. To know that he had been observing our every move was scary. We had no idea, we had thought we were safe in that house.
We couldn't have been more wrong.
There was nothing I could do now but wait.
I was tired of waiting. I had spent way too much time just anxiously counting the minutes for the right moment, the right chance, the right escape.
And I still ended up back in the hands of the devil.
Remo had methodically planned this . The room he kept me in had absolutely nothing to use against him. There were no pipes, no wires, not a fucking thing. It reminded me of the closet he had at his home, the same empty cavern he had created to stow me away in.
I had been his secret play toy, his sick twisted object.
My eyes kept falling to Vince beside me. His breathing still labored, chest sunken in except for the occasional gasp of stale air.
God damnit!
Was another man going to die because of me?
I hated the idea that two men had already lost their lives because of me. Bane was gone, and Vince didn't seem like he had much time left. It wasn't right.
A thick humming slipped in from the other side of the door. I held my breath, hands clenching my ribs to slow my chest.
“I hope you're playing nice in there, Vince went through a lot of trouble to help me.”
I stayed silent.
Fuck you.
“He went out of his way to give me that number after Dante got lifted by the cops.”
What?
The cops?
I didn't trust a fucking word he said. But what if he wasn't lying? What if it was true?
“Vince was quite the soldier, he had a hard time deciding where to lay his head; with the Pisani's or with me. It toyed with him enough, but it didn't stop him from screaming like a fucking whore. You heard that right? Every single tear he shed was bliss to my ears.”
Tapping his fingertips against the door, Remo played the same tune as his melody from before. “You didn't fall asleep in there, did you?” he said, pausing and leaving time for me to respond.
But I wouldn't.
“Of course you didn't. You're playing the quiet game, I like the quiet game. It makes it more fun when I finally get to hear your voice as you scream.” The first lock clicked free, his fingers dancing down to the second. “Haven't you missed our games, Ivy? Ivy, I still don't like it. Celia was better, but I know you don't care for it. What about. . . Gina?”
The second lock broke loose, the soft thunk ricocheted around my brain with a giant bang.
One more, one more lock.
My eyes darted around the room, searching for anything I could use. My eyes snapped back to Vince. He was shoeless, no belt, nothing to use against the creature outside the door. I didn't know what the hell to do. I needed something.
My eyes lowered over my own body, scanning my shirt, my pants and landing on my boots.
I could throw one, I could swing it at him.
Maybe I could hide on the side and wrap it around his throat.
But then what?
“I like Dalia. What do you think of Dalia?” The last lock chimed, twisting open. “I'll need to call you something, but Ivy is done. No more of that, she was gone the moment Dante said it.”
Pulling my shoe off my foot, I held it tight, arm peeled back. I'll throw it. I don't have time to undo each and every loop and coil it around my palms.
“I'm going to open the door now, let's not have a repeat of before. I'll warn you now, this time I'm better prepared.”
A loud scratching noise licked my ears, high pitched like nails on a chalk board. The handle turned slowly, opening out. The shine of metal peeked though first, a long thick blade twisted back and forth. And in the background was his blurry reflection, morphed and bleeding into one disfigured form.
I cringed instantly as his smile was still boldly lit against silver death.
“God, I've missed you, Love.” His shoes caught my eye, sparkling with a bright pop despite the dusty floor. “I'm sorry to leave you waiting for so long.”
I didn't want to look up, so I kept my head down, boot tightly clenched in my hand.
“Nothing to say? You don't want to thank me for not killing you while you sat in my parking lot?” Crouching down, Remo pushed the tip of the blade against his finger. “Because I could've, I thought about it. But then I remembered how I wasn't done with you yet.” His smile curved up high, reaching his ears.
Focusing on breathing, I pushed the air in and out. I wanted to charge him, I wanted to kill him. . .
But I had to use my head and not my emotions.
Remo started chuckling, his voic
e growing in volume. “Is that your shoe? Were you really going to try and hit me with that?” Pulling in heavy breaths, he sighed. “Oh, Love, that's a good one.” Standing back up, he pointed the knife down towards my face. “You couldn't possibly have thought that would work, did you?”
I could feel his eyes on me, and I wanted to claw them out of his head. He didn't deserve to look at me one more second.
Think of the baby.
Think of Dante.
Keeping my eyes on the floor, my teeth ground down so hard, it felt like I had eaten a handful of dirt. My tongue was gritty, a popping sound echoed through my skull. But I refused to let him win. If I looked up at him, I was afraid of what I might do.
My body wanted to react to him so badly. My heart was hammering inside my chest, my fingers were itching by my side and squeezing the life out of the boot. And that's exactly what he wanted, he wanted to watch me crumble.
But I couldn't risk letting my emotions win, there was a baby living inside me. It took everything I had to not spit in his face and tell him to go to hell.
His tongue clucked against the roof of his mouth, his fingers twirled designs over the mirror finish of the blade. “Look at me when I'm talking to you.”
I wouldn't. He didn't control me, he didn't own me. I belonged to Dante.
Dropping his hand into my hair, Remo yanked my face up. “I said—”
Snapping my wrist, I threw a handful of sand into his eyes. Coughing, Remo stumbled backwards, his hands slapping against his eyes and mouth.
Go! Go, Ivy!
Jumping to my feet, I bolted out the door. I was running, breathing heavy and trying to follow the path we took to get there.
But in the darkness everything looked the same. I remembered the numbers, I remembered the steps, except confusion had turned my brain upside down. I wasn't sure if I was running in the right direction, if it was a left or a right at the first split in the hall.
So I just kept running.
I didn't stop, my feet kept going. Rounding a corner, my shoulder slammed into the crisp edge of the wall, sending a bolt of pain down my arm. I forced it away, refusing to let anything slow me down.
Nothing was going to stop me. . . Nothing.
Remo's feet echoed behind me, his pace growing with every step. And as I skirted around the next corner, I was struck with a sharp thicket of pain against my throat.
An arm had jetted out from nowhere, slamming into my neck and knocking me off my feet. I was on my back, gripping my throat and trying to catch my breath.
“Got her, Boss.” Del's voice rang in my head, his beady little eyes glancing between Remo and me on the ground.
Holding my neck, my fingers rubbed up and down. My throat was scorching with hot sparks as my chest heaved and pulled painfully. My mouth gaped open, loud gasps choking out as I laid on the floor.
Fuck!
Where the hell did he come from!
Remo stepped into view, hovering over me with an evil smile. “You're finally earning your keep around here, Del.” Rubbing his eyes, he leaned over. His face shadowed as it blocked the light, eyes glowering in rage and red veins. “You fucking bitch.”
“What happened? Did she hit you?” Del slid his glasses back up his face, breathing in a slick gulp of air.
“No! She fucking threw dirt in my eyes you idiot!” His hands worked over his face, eyes blinking rapidly. “Get her up.”
Del reached down, nabbing the collar of my shirt and yanking me to my feet. “What now?”
Kicking my legs, I flailed my arms. “Let me go!”
“Bring her to my office, I'm done playing.”
“Fuck you.” My voice was hoarse and cold. Drawing in a loud slurp, I spit at his face. “You deserve everything that's coming your way, Asshole!”
“She speaks.” Lifting his hand, Remo let it go across my jaw. “Take her away.”
My mouth stung, the pulse in my lip beating as a warm trickle of blood flowed over my chin. I didn't care. He could hit my face, he could sling my arms up and whip me until my skin turned raw and all my muscles looked like chewed spaghetti. I didn't give a shit.
As long as he didn't touch my stomach. That was something I wasn't going to allow.
I refused to walk to my death. No fucking way. If Del had to get me there, he was going to work for it. I let my body go limp, feet draped behind me.
Del was dragging me down the hall, his lungs huffing under my weight. Pulling me into a small office, he dropped me like a sack of potatoes as he shut the door behind us. “Stand up, the boss wants you over there.”
Following his finger, he pointed at a thick rope dangling from the ceiling.
“Why would you do this for him? Don't you realize he doesn't give a shit about you either?”
“I don't get paid to care, Honey. Now stand up.”
“No.”
“Stand. Up.” Plucking my shoulder, he tried to lift me again, but failed. He was too out of breath and too tired to even get my hips off the floor this time. “Get the fuck up!” Grunting in frustration, he wiped the sweat off his forehead.
“Fuck you, you piece of shit.” Folding my arms across my chest, I sat cross-legged on the cold cement. “You want me there, you do it yourself.”
“Fine.” Del leaned down to grab me again, reaching for my wrists.
Think, Ivy.
There's got to be an out.
His sweaty fingers curled over my skin, digging in hard. I had to come up with a way to stall him. This could be my only chance.
Glancing at the rope, I noticed it wasn't tied at the end. The dirty brown threads were lifeless, hanging without the noose.
“How are you supposed to tie me to it when it isn't even ready?”
Groaning, Del said, “Nice try, he told me you might try and talk your way out of this.”
“I'm serious, look at the rope.”
Pausing, Del looked over his shoulder. “Fuck, you're right.”
“See, I wasn't lying.”
“Sit here, don't move, and don't try a fucking thing. The boss gave me the okay to kill you if I have to.”
“Have you ever killed before? Or would I be your first?”
He eyed me cautiously, lip quivering. “Shut up.”
Holding up my hands, I rolled back on my ass. “Just asking.”
“Stay right there or so help me, I will put a hole in your head.” Releasing my arm, Del started towards the torture trap hanging from the ceiling.
Dumb move, you stupid prick.
Walking over to the rope, Del kept his eyes on me. But as he started to fiddle with the corded strip dangling from the ceiling, he lost all interest in me.
I watched as he got annoyed with the rope, his hands trying aimlessly to tie it, only to watch it slip free.
Now! Now, Ivy!
Go!
Jumping to my feet, I ran to the door and threw it open. Del was slow as shit. He might have worked as a surprise threat from behind a corner, but he could never catch me.
I ran. I ran through the exit, I ran for freedom.
My feet pounded against the dirty cement, ready and willing to trade it for rough soil. I wobbled side to side in one boot, never looking back.
I was gone.
I could hear Del yelling behind me, screaming for me stop.
Was he really that stupid to think I would listen?
Did he really expect me to stop altogether and just turn to go back to him?
No fucking way.
His voice faded, deep coughing and thick breaths filled the space. He was trying like hell to catch me, and I knew why. Remo would kill him for letting me go.
A shot rang out, the loud thud of Del's body collapsed to the floor. His voice went from screaming my name to gurgling apologies.
“You stupid fat piece of shit!” Remo's words crashed through my skull, filling in the empty void behind me. “You fucked up, you fucked up big time!” A second shot exploded, Del's voice disappearing into a final gasp.
And I kept running, hall after hall, turn after turn, I just wanted to feel the fresh air wash across my face. If I could get out, I could get to my car, I could get away.
I could have a chance.
But Remo was so close, I wasn't sure if I'd make it.
His feet matched mine, step for step, thud for thud. And he was gaining on me. They came louder, they came faster. And he knew where he was going. . .
Or better yet, where I was going.
I didn't know this fucking place at all. It was a foreign land and I was moving on gut instinct, taking corners and halls by sheer guess. I tried to think of it as cave diving, I was feeling for a cross breeze, tasting the air and trying to find the salty crunch I needed to get outside.
I pushed myself, forced myself to move quicker. My heel drove in, toes forcing myself forward. I didn't care, I was going to run until he either caught me or shot me in the back.
If I can't get out, I'll hide, I can't let him have me.
But I wouldn't give up.
Remo would have to kill me to get what he wanted.
Because he would never have me alive again.
Nineteen
Dante
“Talk.” Looking over at Sesto, I kept my foot heavy on the gas as I laid a hand down on the center console. I was ready to hear every last word he had to say.
Now was his time to clear the air, tell me everything, down to the very last detail. For the past year I had written him off, angry and frustrated that he had betrayed our family.
I was giving him this one chance to come clean.
And he wouldn't get another one.
There were no second chances when it came to someone running their mouth off to the cops. That single act came with a death sentence.
The yard was about an hour away at the speed I was going. I didn't plan on stopping for anything; cops included. I didn't really give a shit where the tiny hand for the speedometer was, I just had to get there. Ivy needed me, our baby needed me.
My family was in trouble, nothing else mattered.
Taking a sharp corner, Sesto threw his hand out to catch the dashboard. His shoulders rocked back and forth, bumping against the window. “Everything you and dad thought was a fucking lie, Dante. I didn't do that shit, I never opened my fucking mouth.”