by Leah Holt
The hall was still quiet and empty. I couldn't figure out what the hell happened.
Fuck! What the hell happened?
Dropping to my knees, I smacked his face and cradled his head. “Ses? Sesto?” My voice was still soft, but firm. He was breathing, which was a good sign, he wasn't dead.
As I sat on my knees, my head began to pound, my muscles convulsing in pure rage. This isn't how it's supposed to go, we were supposed to do this together. Searching the darkness, I tried to spot the hidden figure that had done this.
But nothing was moving, there were no deep inhales or shuffle of light feet. We were still alone, or at least it looked that way.
I knew we weren't, someone had done this. Someone had slipped in behind us, quiet as a stalking lioness, and struck. They just made the biggest mistake of their life. The grim reaper would be knocking down their door soon, and I was going to be the one calling him in.
A loud scream cut through my ears, hardening my heart. Her voice was shrill, screeching with such fear, I stopped breathing altogether.
Ivy?
Fuck, is that Ivy?
I didn't even have to think about what I needed to do. If Sesto wasn't unconscious, he'd be yelling at me to go and finish this. He wouldn't want me curled over his body, snuggling his head.
Jumping to my feet, I started to run in the direction of the scream. My whole body was shaking, the veins under my skin engorged and fighting to keep me moving.
If he hurt her. . .
If he lays so much as a fucking finger on her. . .
I'll kill him so slowly, he'll beg me for death.
The only sounds around me were my feet hitting the floor. I ran and I ran, taking corners without even worrying about what was behind them.
I didn't care. Tearing the gun off my side, I held it up and kept going.
The scream came again, louder and filled with pain. I had never run so fast in my life. The blood was pumping through my veins like liquid metal. All I had to hear was Ivy's call of distress, that was it. An extra boost of adrenaline flooded my muscles, turning me from a gazelle into a cheetah.
I was on the hunt for blood.
Taking a hard left, my feet tried to skip out from under me, but I held on. The gun was ready to fire, my finger eagerly dancing over the trigger. I wasn't going to wait, I wasn't going to give him an ultimatum.
Remo was about to die.
I heard her voice, a gentle begging of life and fierce defiance of hate. Ivy was trying to get away, she was trying to live.
The light seemed to brighten, skimming the dust and making it pop in the air. I felt like I was running through a sea of plankton, the tiny particles filled my lungs, making it harder and harder to breathe.
I could see someone, a dark figure against a wall.
Holding out the gun, I aimed, my finger curled over the trigger. . .
Twenty
Ivy
I heard the shots from outside, two of them. One right after the other, intertwining with my heartbeat, making me freeze.
What the hell was that?
Remo had stopped in his tracks, his ears perking up as he heard the same unmistakable sound. Lowering his lids, his mouth curled up high. “We might have guests, Ivy. That could be good, for me of course, not you.” His laugh percolated in my chest, cutting my heart in half.
I wanted to stay quiet, keeping my position behind the giant wall of boxes and containers a secret. But I couldn't.
All my hatred toward him and who he was. . . What he was—I couldn't bite my tongue any longer. I was anger, I was the destruction of his evil roots.
“Fuck you! You're a fucking sick man, Remo!”
“Ouch.” Gripping his chest, he fumbled over, mocking me. “Fuck you, fuck you—” His voice grew in pitch, mimicking me like a small child. “Come on, Love, don't be cruel.” Turning so slowly, I swear I could hear every vertebrae in his spine snap into place as he said, “You can't hide forever. We have so much unfinished business you won't enjoy, but I will.”
My nails scraped across my palm, burning against the skin. All the abuse he had forced on me, all the sleepless nights and tortured dreams crashed in my skull like cymbals. They rolled like thunder, drowning my thoughts in white noise.
If I had a gun I would've shot him right there.
“Boss!” A man came careening down the hall, his breathing quick and deep. “Boss, we got a problem.”
Remo's gaze tore away, silencing his hunt for the runaway pet. I had escaped his long noose for the moment. The pole was stretched out, rope weaving a necklace of tight pearls as his eyes floated closer and closer to my hidden shadow. I was thankful for the sudden intrusion.
“What do you mean we have a problem, Giorgio? We don't have problems.”
“Angelo and Gerard,” he said between gasping breaths, hands falling to his hips. “They're dead.”
Remo looked off into space, trying to follow the notes of my voice he had lost. “I guess we do have a guest, Love, but don't worry, not for long. We'll take care of it, then I'll have my fun with you.” Turning back to Giorgio, he barked. “Well? Why are you just standing there, go check the halls, go check the back room. Fucking do something, get rid of him.”
Shaking his head, Remo's guy headed off into the darkness.
Who's here?
Is Dante here, did he figure out where I was?”
I was afraid to move, I was afraid to breathe. Remo was so close I could smell him. I wanted to fucking puke and gag, I wanted to charge him and claw his face apart.
But the baby. . .
I couldn't risk the baby. Ducking lower, I pressed my back against the wall. There was nowhere for me to go, he was too close for me to be able to get away. Staying quiet, I slowed my breathing.
I'll stay hidden.
If Remo wanted to play games, we could play. But I was going to control this, for once it wasn't him picking the poison. It was me.
“Why don't you just come out, there's nowhere for you to go.”
I tried to keep my mouth shut and tongue tied, but I couldn't.
“Go fuck yourself!”
His head rolled towards where I was, eyes feverishly searching between the rows. “I know you're back there, make this easier on yourself and just come out.”
“Leave me alone! Just get the fuck away from me!” Screaming, I let out a loud, high-pitched screech. “Leave!”
His head kicked back, feet bringing him in way too close for my comfort. Holding my hand over my mouth, I slouched down, trying like hell to blend in.
“Remo!” A voice bellowed from beyond the wide doorway, deep and scratchy. “You're going to want to see this.”
“Fuck!” he yelled, throwing his hands in the air and tearing at his hair. He looked like he was about to burst at the seams. The world was falling apart around him and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
He had underestimated the man who challenged him. His eyes exploded, all sense of humanity had vanished, replaced with a maniacal craze. “This won't happen, I won't let it.” Scanning the room, he spoke to nothing and everything all at once. He spoke to me. “Don't think this ends here, don't think this will open a door to free you. You're still mine.”
Remo's feet slammed like lead against the floor, slowly dissipating into soft droplets of rain bouncing in the distance.
He's leaving. He's gone.
Standing up, I frantically looked around. And it slowly seeped in that the room I had used for shelter was as much a prison as the closet he had used for punishment. It was a dead end.
Shit.
Shit.
Shit.
My feet patted across the floor like the tiny microbes that lived on your skin. I was there but not there, walking but invisible. My adrenaline was fed by fear, but my strength grew from this baby.
I was getting out.
Twenty-One
Ivy
I wasn't sure how many of Remo's men were hidden away inside the mousetrap of hall
s. I knew I had taken a wrong turn somewhere, I just had to figure out where. A left led me into a funnel of locked doors, a right led me into a tunnel of nothing but cement blocks.
My sense of direction was off, the internal compass I had come to trust was broken. I was lost. I kept my feet light and my ears open. I listened before I walked, I glanced before I turned.
But it got me nowhere.
I had circled around at one point, landing back at a crossroad of two halls, and one sad looking indoor tree. The same limp, dusty tree I had already seen two other times.
No!
I need to get out!
Kicking the dirty terracotta base, I threw my hands into my hair, yanking it tight against my scalp. Everything looked the same, all the walls, all the floors, even the damn lights; same same same.
There wasn't a bulb that shined brighter, a wall that held stains of a darker shade, nothing. I was in a horror house full of mirrors, all drawing me deeper and deeper into its belly.
Leaning against the wall, I took a few deep breaths and tried to calm my nerves. I wasn't going to be able to think straight if I let myself get worked up. The numbers came and went, the controlled inhales and exhales were shorter and less helpful.
I was drowning in endless defeat, unsure I'd ever be able to make my way out of the hell Remo called the yard.
Dragging the toe of my foot against the floor, it scuffed the gray in a black tattoo. And as the charcoal line came to life, so did an idea.
I can track where I went.
The rubber sole of my shoe could help guide me. If I could leave small marks of where I had been, it could open the doors to where I hadn't gone.
Yes!
A trail of crumbs was all I needed. It wouldn't lead me home, but it could lead me to new territory. I'd be able know where I had been and where I needed to go next. I could mark my existence in one hall and find the path that had been eluding me all along; the exit.
Dragging my foot at the next turn, I stayed right. My pace was quick, but silent. I wanted to go unseen and unheard. My self-trained restraint to be lighter than air came back in full force.
My body was heavy, but my feet were a faint whisper against the floor, and I was on the move.
I finally felt like I had a chance. When everything around me was screaming to just give up, to sit and wait for someone to find me, my brain was able to reach deep down and grasp something I had tried to forget.
Step after step, I floated through the corridors. Scuffing and dropping my breadcrumbs, keeping my marks close to the wall so no one else would see them.
And finally, after a few wrap-around turns and dead ends, I came to a hall I hadn't been down. Running my fingers against the dips and nooks in the stone blocks, I heard a voice. Standing still, I turned my head to listen, pressing my palms against the cold cement.
It started off small, filling the hall like glue mending cracks in a porcelain vase. It was soft and hard, rising up and falling down. The melody of different tones skipped through the air like a stone on water.
There were two voices. A mix of conversation and refusal. One voice would go off, riding the musty air and falling flat. The other voice was quiet, muffled and thin. I couldn't tell who was talking, I couldn't pick out one man from another.
But I knew from the sudden thud and disappearance of the second voice that it wasn't a room I wanted to try. The orchestra of sound had turned off, a lone violin strummed a solo for no one else to hear.
One voice towered out full of bass and triumph.
And as I stood there, focusing all my energy on what was going on, a thick set of hands ripped me from the muddied song.
“Well, well, well.” Spinning me around, Remo opened his mouth to purge a sickening grin. “Look what I found. And just in time too, you almost missed the main event.” Snatching my wrist, he stormed towards where the voices had started.
Dropping to my hunches, I tried to pull away. “Let me go! Let me go!” Screaming, I scratched at his arms, attempting to bite his wrist.
He was dead locked on me, squeezing to the point my fingers were going numb. “Not this time, not ever again.” His voice lashed across my face as he stormed towards a closed door. “I want you to see what I'm about to do, I want you to watch and learn that you can never get away from me.”
Grazing the metal door with the back of his hand, Remo tugged me up on my feet. I kept trying to drop down, to force him to have to open his fingers to grip me better. But he wasn't letting go.
There was no sweat on his fingertips, no beaded up nerves on his forehead. He was so cold that nothing he did ever turned up the heat. He didn't give a shit about what happened, so long as he got what he wanted.
As he waited for the door to open, Remo twisted his face down to mine. “This isn't going to be pretty, Love, lessons need to be learned. You let him fuck you, you let him take the sweet cherry that was mine. I won't forget that and neither will you.”
Was that Dante?
Does he have him in there?
My stomach curdled at the thought. To think he had Dante locked in some room, facing the same fate as Vince. . .
I couldn't take it.
Screaming at the top of my lungs, I swung my nails up at his face. “No! No! You won't do this!” I fought him with everything I had. The adrenaline was flowing, turning my veins red hot.
The door flew open, Gio's face was scrunched tight, ready to launch out that door to fight. Realizing it was Remo knocking, he glanced down at me, his muscles relaxing to form a thick grin. “Lucky catch, Boss?”
“You could say that.” Throwing me inside, I tumbled to my knees, my hands slamming down to bear all my weight.
I felt the rough pebbles first, each and every one entered my skin like barbwire. Then I felt the intense crush of a foot in my back. My body jerked forward, cheek scuffing raw over the same sandpaper surface.
Laying there for a second, I closed my eyes. I wanted to feel myself, not where I was.
I wanted to hear myself, not who was barking down on me.
I wanted to remember myself, not the man who had already shattered me into pieces.
I had to find me.
If I lost who I was, if I let Remo wiggle his way back, I'd be fucked.
Pulling my hand down to my stomach, I cupped the small pouch that held my baby. It was still there, it was still relying on me to live.
Living was more important than fighting.
I felt his hot breath first, the weight of his lips pressed against my ear as they whispered. “Open your eyes, take a good look around.”
Remo's long fingers twined deep into my hair, tearing my face off the floor. “Look.”
I didn't want to, I didn't want to give in to his demands. I wanted the control I had felt when I was hidden among his valued walls of possessions.
But it was slowly dripping out, seeping out from my toes and into the floor that cradled my body. I wanted to roll onto my knees and slurp it back inside, drink the courage I had felt so it could come back to life.
“Look.” Remo demanded, yanking my neck back.
Opening my eyes, I kept them on the wall in front of me. I didn't want to see what else was around us because I knew whatever it was—it wasn't good.
His nails pierced my scalp, twisting my neck so I had no choice but to see.
A gasp hiccuped in the back of my throat, my heart hammered inside my chest. Instantly, my sight was blocked and blurred by tears.
There was a rope hanging in the center of the room and attached to a noose around his neck was Sesto. His arms were duct taped behind his back, his face smeared in streaks of blood.
“Isn't that nice? His brother will be here soon too. I think you know him a little too well, but it doesn't matter anymore. Neither one will leave here breathing.”
Swallowing down the thick lump that had formed in my throat, I asked, “Where's Dante?”
“Oh don't worry about that, he'll be here to join his brother very shortly
.”
“I hate you.” My lower lip bubbled up, curving over my teeth. “I fucking hate you. And when I get the chance, I'm going to kill you.”
Remo laughed hard, my head joggled around in his hand like I had spring for a neck. “You can't kill me, you'll never be able to kill me.” Leaning in closer, his breath was acid against my cheek, burning through the skin. “Because you won't live long enough to do it.”
Throwing my face into the dirt, he stood back up. “Gio, keep a close eye on her, I'm going to go see how things are going.”
“No problem.” I could hear the smile in Gio's voice, the sick pleasure he got from having the power put into his hands.
All these guys had it, they all held that same desire to be in charge, even if it wasn't going to last for long.
“Gio—” Remo's shoes stopped clicking, his words laced in threat. “Touch her and I'll kill you too.”
“Of course Sir, I know that.”
“Good. But you can touch that piece of shit right there all you'd like. Just don't kill him yet, I want his brother to enjoy that with us.”
The door clanked shut, Gio stepped to the side and locked it. Rolling to my back, I looked up at him. “Are you serious, Gio?”
“Don't even try it, it won't work.”
“You're not like him, so why are you trying to be?”
Gio picked at his lip, his eyes shifting over me. “I'm not doing this with you.” Strolling past me, he sat in a chair off to the side.
I knew him, he was one of the few Remo had introduced me to at his house. Gio was one of his higher level guys, but he always looked at me with a flicker of sadness.
He knew what Remo was doing to me was wrong, I could see it. When he would come in he wouldn't just ignore me, he would smile. I could feel his eyes watching me as I did as I was told and perched on my knees on the floor by Remo's side.
Gio didn't look at me like I was Remo's pet, he looked at me like I was human.
If I hadn't been stolen by Dante, I had already planned on trying to use him against my captor. He wasn't evil, he didn't hold that same blackness in the pit of his gut.