Chapter 26

Jena

“Oh God, oh God, Oh God.”

Cold fear rushed through Jena’s veins.

They didn’t know she was here. Couldn’t know.

A glass broke upstairs.

A second later, she could hear several footsteps right above her. They were inside the house.

Two or three of them.

She slowly stood up, the cold floor under her feet waking her to the fact that she would have to run away before they found the basement. This was her only chance. She grabbed her sneakers and rushed out.

I have to warn them.

“Beast?” A voice upstairs yelled, “I know you’ve been here motherfucker, where are you?”

The freezing cold upstairs almost made her turn back, but she knew there was nowhere else to hide. She quickly put on her tennis shoes and broke out running to a small gathering of trees on the back of the house, she could go to the neighbors, maybe hide there.

“Out there!” another man yelled, “hey, stop!”

They found her.

“Fuck,” the man on the window stared at her, raising his gun. She was as good as dead.

An SUV drove past the house, a hundred feet away. If he shot her out here, he would alert everyone in the neighborhood.

The thug waited for the vehicle to go by, turning to see it. That was it, her chance to flee.

When the man turned back to see her, she wasn’t there anymore.

* * *

Jena ran as fast as she could, the cold air hurt hard in her lungs as she breathed it in. She wouldn’t last long out here, it was even colder than she thought.

I’m going to freeze to death.

She only wore a thin sweater and her pajama bottom. If she hadn’t put on her shoes she wouldn’t have been able to make it this far.

“Find her!” She heard the old man yell. Just past the trees behind Beast and Mills house, another house stood in silence. Every light was off.

She turned back, the men were nowhere to be seen. Shit. Her body began to shake, she’d been sitting still for less than a minute and the cold was already beginning to bring her down.

Her only chance was making a racket loud enough to wake the neighbors up before boss Caronte an his thugs got to her.

“We know you’re here,” a middle aged, bearded man said. She saw him now, looking for her in the dark, “we just want to talk.”

Sure. Just talk. The gun in his hands said otherwise.

She couldn’t make a noise now. She had to hide.

No. Hell no.

She knew better than that. She would not wait for those bastards to find her cowering in the dark. She stood up, picking a big rock, still hiding behind a tree.

“It will only take a moment,” the man said, “we just want to ask you some questions.”

“Found her?” Another voice asked from afar.

It would take him four or five more steps before he saw her. It was now or never. The bearded man opened his mouth to respond.

“Not yet—”

Jena jumped, cracking the rock on his face, breaking his nose with her improvised weapon.

The man fell down, dropping his gun two feet away, she looked at him, his face covered in blood, not fully aware of what just happened.

She raised her hand again to take him out but he caught her, still dazed.

He was incredibly strong, Jena couldn’t bring him down.

He rolled to the side and suddenly she flat on the cold, damp ground.

“You bitch!” He said, half of his teeth missing.

She tried to hit him again but he held both of her wrists.

“She’s he—”

She kneed him square in the balls. All of his strength drained from him, his hands went to his genitals, falling beside her. She was suddenly free.

She stood up as fast as she could but the thug caught her feet and she fell down again, her arms and legs now full of bruises.

He began standing up, still hurting down there, then she saw it.

The blood in her veins felt cold, this was a different kind of fear.

The man’s gun. It was there, in front of her, lying silently on the ground, she just needed to reach out for it—

He pulled her back, taking her away from the gun, the jerking motion surprising her. Jena tried to kick him but he had regained some of his strength, pulling her fast and hard.

She yelled, her body being dragged away from the weapon, her torso full of cuts and bruises.

“No!” She yelled and jumped forward to grab the pistol.

The man stood behind her and saw what she was trying to do.

There it is.

She had it in her hands.

Crack! He kicked the air out of her lungs with a kick to the stomach. Her mind went blank, she thought she was going to fait.

The gun fired loudly, the bullet hit a tree a few yards ahead. She had to focus. She had it in her grip. She tried to turn around and point it at her enemy but he stepped on her hand.

“You think you can—”

Jena grabbed his other leg and pushed, the man grunted and fell over her. Her right hand was useless now, she couldn’t even feel it, was it broken?

She held the gun with her left hand, the thug reached over her and pressed her hand against the damp earth.

“Be still, bitch, unless you—”

“Stop right fucking there.”

Her heart stopped. She couldn’t breathe. She was done.

Her eyes turned to the right and found the old mafia boss, Robetro Caronte, staring at her with his cold black eyes.

“You move again girl and I’ll shoot you dead.”

She was frozen by fear.

The man who wrestled with her stood up, his face a red ruin, cleaning the blood running down his nose.

“Fucking—”

“You shut the hell up,” the older man said, “she almost got you. I see how much you’re worth.”

He slumped down instantly, embarrassed.

“Sorry, sir, I—”

“Throw the gun away,” the man said to her, not longer paying attention to his henchman.

She was still on the ground, shaking so hard she had a hard time controlling herself. It wasn’t just the fear.

The adrenaline began to fade and she was lying on the ground, she could feel the cold in her bones now.

There was nothing else to do. They got her.

She threw the gun away.

“You all right, sir?” The younger thug wearing a red scarf asked, running to the commotion.

“Help her up.”

He did, her body was as cold as death, her jaw clenched shut.

“Where are they?” The old man asked, “Mills and—”

“They’re not here,” she replied, defiantly, “you won’t find them anywhere.”

“Oh, they left you their house, that’s what you’re saying?”

Scarf pulled her up and held her arm. Her whole body hurt.

“Yes, that’s what I’m saying.”

Her words came out strong. Stronger than she thought she could ever make them to be.

The man nodded.

“We’ll wait for them, then, I can be patient.”

Scarf pushed her.

“Walk.”

“My clothes are all ruined,” said the bearded man she ust fought, pulling his head back, trying to prevent more blood from pouring out of his nose.

“You got beat by a woman, I got no use for you,” the boss said.

“No, boss. I wanted to take her alive.”

“You were going to kill me.”

The boss smacked her so hard she didn’t even register falling down, everything turned bring and painful and the next moment she was on the ground, being pulled up by Scarf.

“You talk only when you’re spoken to,” the old man said.

Jena kept stumbling back to the house. This was not going to end well.

She knew that now.