CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Jillian
THE SUV COMES TO A STOP, the doors open and close as Cross and Alfeo get out.
“Come on, puttana,” Frank snarls his insult as I’m hauled from the car and greeted with the Vegas lights. I’m back home. My eyes squint as I take in the surroundings. It looks to be some kind of private entrance to Sin Casino. A small garage with a private elevator.
“Move.” Cross shoves me hard toward the door, but my mind is in a whirlwind. Where is Zeek? How long was I in the car for? “I said move!” Cross grips me by the hair, throwing me forward. Resisting, I cup my hands and slam my elbow in his chest. He grunts and snatches me by the hair again, strands snapping at the scalp painfully. Pulling my head back, his lips skim along my ear.
“You think you’re tough, Kitty? All you’re doing is making my dick hard. I like a bitch who can fight.” He bites my ear and I cry out with pain. “Now fucking MOVE!” He thrusts me into the garage and towards the elevator doors.
“You’ll learn to stop fighting, my dear.” Frank smiles tightly, one bushy brow raised.
Stepping into the elevator it smells like Frank, expensive cologne. The floor is carpeted red, and the walls mirrored. The doors shut, and we zip up in such a rush I feel my stomach tickle.
The elevator dings, and before you know it the doors open to a private suite.
Floor to ceiling windows line the left side of the entire floor. Red carpet, and white and gold sequined wallpaper line the other walls. There is a black granite countertop and kitchen on the right side, and a small living space facing the windows, made up of plush black couches and chairs.
“Secure her in one of the bar stools, I’m going to take a piss.” Frank points to a high-back wooden barstool, and walks off into a side room.
The two men turn toward me and I shrink in fear. Up close they appear much bigger and muscular.
Alfeo grips my arm and I jerk it back. Using my knee I try and jab it into the back of Cross’s kneecap but he reacts too quickly.
“Aw, I almost forgot we’re not dealing with just any damsel in distress,” Alfeo chuckles.
“Yeah, she’s a feisty little bitch.” The way Cross says it, it sounds like Ron James. It’s completely twisted.
Rage fuels my mind, fear filling my limbs, and I scream loudly. My head pounds with my heartbeat as my face turns beet red. I’m praying someone in another room hears me. Cross reaches out for me, but I side step him, tears trying to fill my eyes.
“Honey, don’t make this complicated,” Alfeo shakes his head.
“Fuck you, don’t call me honey.” I pant out of breath. Honey, who the fuck does he think he is?
“Just fucking grab her, Alfeo!” Frank demands walking back into the room. “Dannazione!”
Sighing, Alfeo jumps forward and clutches my shoulder. Focused on Alfeo I didn’t even see Cross walk behind me. A sudden kick to my back causing me to fall to my knees. I want to break, I want to fall to the floor and cry my fucking eyes out, feel sorry for myself. But I can’t. If I do, I’m as good as dead. I have to fight, and keep my shit together.
I’m picked up from the floor and slammed onto the hard stool by Cross just as Frank reenters the room.
“You got any more tape?” Alfeo asks, picking at the tape for it to lift.
“Probably not, we’ll just get use Saran Wrap,” Frank dictates.
“Saran Wrap?”
“It works when you’re in a tight spot.” Cross smiles sinisterly. I can’t help but remember the scenes my training officer and I came across with evidence of blood, Saran Wrap, and no bodies. I wonder if Cross was behind those too?
Clear wrap is suddenly wrapped around my body tightly, securing me to the chair. Around and around it constricts my every movement, taking a simple breath is nearly impossible.
I scream as loud as I can, my throat burning as my voice rips up my throat. Praying someone from another room of the casino will hear me. It’s my only hope.
“Shut her the fuck up,” Frank barks.
Alfeo grabs the wrap, and I close my mouth shut.
His large fingers dig into my jaw, making me open wide. I whimper with pain, his fingers pressing so hard I swear my jaw is about to crack. Plastic is shoved so far into my mouth I gag. My tongue feeling three times too big as the plastic invasion is shoved into my mouth.
Alfeo ties it behind my head, and I shift my tongue around trying to adjust to the foreignness of it in my mouth.
Cross stands in my way, his hand resting on my collarbone.
“Zeek is going to kill you,” I muffle around the wrap, my chest shaking as I sob beneath the plastic. The little bit of air I’m getting through my nose not nearly enough to satisfy my panicked state. I feel weak, I have no fight left. I’m hopeless tied to this chair, no rescue in sight. Fear is all I have.
He smiles, like he accepts the challenge. “One of you go get a pregnancy test, and hurry up,” Frank orders from across the room, keeping his hands clean as possible. He’s a coward.
“Where the fuck am I supposed to get one of those?” Alfeo looks conflicted, like Frank just asked him to find Mars.
Frank pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. “The fucking store, you moron!”
Cross sits across the room and stares at me. His eyes squinted and dark. I used to think Zeek had a similar look, one that would slither across his face before he hurt or killed someone. I bet he was behind training Zeek, they have similar tactics.
“Tick tock, tick, tock,” Cross laughs. “In time you’ll find out if you’re harboring your father’s murderer’s baby.”
***
“THAT WAS THE FIFTH WOMAN I killed, she wasn’t very smart,” Cross continues to inform me of how many people he’s killed and how. Trying to ignore him my mind swims of thoughts I could possibly be pregnant, and the path I’ll take for vengeance. What the hell am I going to do if I am? Can Zeek and I have a normal life, and raise a child? Should I abort? What does this mean for my job? How should I kill these assholes?
It’s a vicious circle of thoughts keeping my mind swirling…
“Where the fuck have you been?” Frank barks, pulling himself from the plush seat of his expensive couch, taking me from my thoughts. I thank the heavens that Alfeo has finally arrived, I can’t stand to hear another story from Cross. To say I’m terrified of this man is an understatement.
“I didn’t know which one to get, so I grabbed one of each.” Alfeo walks over and hands Frank the bag.
“I’m sure one would have done just fine,” Frank tells him, taking the bag from his hand and pulling out a pink box. He throws the bag onto the floor and then tears the box open with his teeth, looking straight at me. “Get her up.”
Alfeo steps toward me, unraveling the Saran Wrap from my body. Lifting my arms, they’re numb and tingly, my legs feeling like Jell-o. The cuffs were pressed into my wrists so deeply, they’re bleeding. What was once just sore is now raw meat.
A white pee stick is placed in my line of sight, inches from my face. “Piss on this,” Frank orders, his tone not to be messed with.
Swallowing the lump forming in my throat, I bring my eyes from the stick to him. Fear pounding in my temples and blurring my vision. If I am pregnant I don’t want to find out like this.
“No,” I nearly choke on the words, the wrap in my mouth still gagging me. I’m being reckless and stupid with my life refusing, but I don’t fucking care.
“No?” Frank tilts his head to the side, his dark eyes searing through my remaining bravado. Balling my hands into fists I search for what strength I have left.
“I said no!” I shout, tears spilling from my eyes.
“Make her,” Frank huffs, his eyes bulging like a lunatic, his hand jerking on his red tie.
Alfeo grabs at my limbs, making me stand, and Cross fists me by the hair hauling me down the hallway.
“You will piss on that fucking stick,” Cross threatens into my ear, the warmth of his breath hot on my skin. “Or I’ll run a fucking catheter up that cunt that got our Zeeky boy turning on us.”
“Fuck you!” I cry, trying to pull from his grip.
I’m thrust into the bathroom, slipping on the black tile and landing on my knees painfully.
“I won’t do it,” I cry, my head hanging, tears slip from my cheeks falling onto the floor.
Hands grab at my pants, ripping them down my legs.
“Stop it! No!” I cry, trying to kick them away. If my hands were not cuffed, I’d be able to fight better. But they’re not, they’re captured in metal links, making my fighting hopeless.
My pants and underwear bunch at my feet, and a cool breeze wafts between my legs. Stretching my shirt down, I try and cover my private area. My eyes fluttering, embarrassed tears sticking to my lashes.
Cross wraps his hand around my throat, pressing his thumbs into the soft tissue of my pressure points. Pain wraps itself around my neck as he forces me to stand from the ground. Alfeo whistles, his eyes trailing up and down my body unforgivingly. Slowly Cross releases me, and I look out the window of the bathroom seeing the lights of Vegas filtering across my face. I feel like I’m going to get sick again. God, where is Zeek?
Standing there, with no pants and no panties I feel myself breaking. Tears rolling down my cheeks in waves, I feel so humiliated. I’ve been stripped of not only my clothes, but my dignity, as well.
Frank walks further into the bathroom, the stick in one hand. I can tell he’s not one to get his hands dirty, he has men to do that for him.
“Pee. On. This. Now.” He emphasizes each word. My mouth trembles as I look the test over.
“You’re a coward,” I snarl.
He snorts.
“Or smart, depends on the way you look at it, sweetheart.”
“Why? Why do you want to know if I’m pregnant?”
He rubs the pad of his thumb along his bottom lip, his eyes downcast.
“Zeek is a traitor, turning against not only his creed of brotherhood, but you in his head made him think it was okay to overturn me and my hand in his club. He’s going to pay for his infringement, and in doing so raise my profile of power. Zeek is going to help me punch it to the Mafia, and take his place at the head of the table of the Outlaws, with me guiding him. I’m done being a second hand to anyone in this fucking city!” he roars, veins protruding in his forehead. “I wasn’t so sure he’d oblige…especially with his recent defiant behavior. I expect he’s sitting back conjuring up ways to take me down or run away again once he’s tried to save you. But, if he knows I have his child in my hands, he’ll succumb to my demands a lot easier.”
My chest tightens, a lump forming in my throat. “The Mafia?” He’s going to get Zeek killed.
“I’ve told you enough, all you need to do now is follow directions.” Franks holds the test out, offering it to me again. I don’t want to pee on it, what if it’s positive? I don’t want to find out I’m pregnant while being handcuffed, and forced to pee on a stick. I don’t want Zeek to fall into place because of me or the baby either.
“No!” I reaffirm.
Cross’s hand raises, backhanding me in the face hard. My head whips to the side, my lips burning severely as my cheeks radiate with pain.
Frank rolls his shoulders and exhales a loud breath. Cross grabs a .45 from one of his holsters and presses the cold barrel on the inside of my thigh, trailing it up til it stops on my abdomen.
“You either piss on this stick, or I will shoot you in the stomach. Spilling your blood and the life of that bastard baby who might exist.” He smiles, as if he’s hoping I won’t obey so he can shoot me. I want to kill him.
A tear slips in between my lips, my eyes fluttering with defeat. It’s over. I will never live with myself knowing my pride killed a piece of Zeek and me.
“Fine,” I whisper.
Cross smiles. “See, we can get along.”
Grasping both of my shoulders he pushes me back a few steps and applies pressure, making me sit on the toilet.
“Do it.” He hands me the stick.
Taking the pregnancy test I hold it in between my legs, and I pee. I didn’t realize how bad I actually had to go until a steady stream flows continuously.
Slowly I pull the stick out from in between my legs and hand it over, my eyes searching the little window that might hold the results, but Cross takes it before I can see anything.
“It says here you have to wait three minutes.” Alfeo points at the back of the box he’s holding.
“You read the directions?” Cross looks at him like he’s stupid.
“Well, one of us needs to know how this shit works,” Alfeo states matter-of-fact.
“I fuck chicks in the ass just to avoid this shit,” Cross throws at him and Alfeo shakes his head. I swear I’ve been kidnapped by idiots.
“Get her dressed and back in the chair, by then it’ll show the results.” Frank’s eyes sweep to mine, taking my breath away. “And her future.”
***
MY HEART IS BEATING, my eyes searching Frank’s face for any indication of what the test may say.
“It’s been three minutes.” Cross points at his watch, his body sprawled out on the sofa.
“Two lines means she’s pregnant,” Alfeo informs.
Frank strides toward the counter, his legs stubby and small as he glides to the counter. Picking up the test his eyes furrow. My eyes ping pong between his eyes and mouth, praying he’ll fucking end my misery and spill what the hell the results are. I hope they’re negative, I don’t want to find out I’m pregnant like this. I don’t even want to be pregnant. I can barely wrap my head around the idea that Zeek killed my father. Bringing a child into the situation gives the matter of Zeek being a murderer a whole new meaning.
“I don’t see anything.”
My body sags with relief.
“Wait…” My head lifts confused.
Frank holds the test under the light, Cross looks over his shoulder at the results.
“There’s two faint lines.” Cross points at it.
Frank lowers the test and beams me with a look that makes my soul shrivel up and die in my chest.
“Looks like someone has a little outlaw on the way.” Frank smiles that Joker smile, and the wind is sucked right from my lungs.
“I’m pr-pregnant.” My voice reedy in disbelief. Looking down I look at my abdomen, the idea of carrying a child doesn’t seem real. “Pregnant,” I whisper, little butterflies of an unknown feeling fill my stomach.