Ikeep my eyes squeezed tight, regardless of the pain splintering across my face. If I open them, it will all be real. If I keep them closed I don’t have to face it. I don’t want to face it. Who the hell are these people? Images of case files I’ve read, studied and sometimes even used during my cases flutter like leaves in the wind. I remember one case that had flopped due to the involvement of the mob, but with no evidence we couldn’t pin it on anyone. Was this them? Where they the mob? It would be just my luck to get tied up in this shit. Is it so hard to want a peaceful, quiet life? I decide then, that if I get out of here to move as far away as possible from everything and anyone. I’ll live on a desert island with no connections to the outside world.
Why couldn’t she have chosen some jumped up pimp from a slum? My mother never done anything by halves. This was just the tip of the iceberg.
Willing my mind to stay calm, hoping that by some saving grace I will walk away from here with only cuts and bruises and nothing more, I slowly open my eyes.
Or at least I try to.
Blinking a few times to clear the dancing swirls forming quickly over my already dark irises, I notice it’s dark. Only, I can’t tell if the room is dark or my eye is well and truly fucked.
Hissing through clenched teeth, I sit up. Thankful for the wall behind me, holding me up. My shaky arms can barely hold my weight, but I manage through sheer will power. I didn’t entertain the thought of someone coming to find me, how the hell would they know where I was? I didn’t even know.
The room isn’t dark anymore, my one good eye pinpointing the disgustingly yellow bulb swinging lightly on the ceiling.
“Good Morning Sunshine” a snarl from the corner my bad eye is facing makes me snap my head that way. My neck groans in reluctance at the swift movement, but I ignore it.
The slick one is sat in a chair, smoking another cigarette. The smoke billows around him, falling to nothing at the floor. My back instantly stiffens at his presence, images of previous victims of the mob flashing behind my swollen eyelid.
Broken Bones. Teeth pulled. Raped. Decapitated. Drowned. Dead.
Sucking in a shaky breath, I will myself to look at him.
“What the hell do you want from me?” My throat burns as the words leave my mouth, and I swallow what little spittle I have in an attempt to soothe it.
“I’ve already told you”
“I said I’ll pay” I swallow past the coppery blood that’s coating my tongue and throat.
“I know”
So, What the Hell Do You Want I want to scream!
“I haven’t had this much fun for a while, I’m not ready to stop just yet”
Vomit pools in my stomach, my body aching with new pains. I’d give anything to have those sore muscles from countless rounds of sex with Liam instead of this.
“Please…” my voice barely a whisper, but in this deathly silence I’m sure he heard me.
A groan sounds from the doorway, turning my fractured gaze that way I see the bald goon.
“I love it when they beg” his deep voice does nothing to soothe me like Liam’s does, I would give anything just to hear his comforting tone right now.
Mr. Slick huffs in laughter, before coming to his feet. Taking one last drag on his cigarette, he throws it to the floor. What I wouldn’t give to have a smoke right now. It’s been well over two years since I quit, but that rush. It’s ability to calm you when nothing else could. Stumping out the smoke with his shiny shoe, successfully quashing any hopes I had of taking a drag, along with any, where I thought I would get out of here okay, he comes closer.
“Amelia, we’re only playing with you”
“I don’t want to play” I hiss through clenched teeth. My hands aren’t bound, I’m free to launch an attack on him. He’s close enough, I’m sure I could get a few punches in and run. Run Where?
“Don’t even think about it” Mr. Slick replies to my unspoken question with a cheery glint in his black eyes.
“Fuck you” I spit on his shoes.
Clutching a handful of my hair he tugs on it tightly. Strands of my hair pull away from the roots, and a searing pain shoots through my scalp. Tilting my head upwards and brining his other hand up to grab my chin roughly, he stares me dead in the eyes.
“Do that again Amelia and see what happens” His grip on my face tightens and I can’t help the involuntary closure of my eyes. I want this to end, I want to go home.
Dread suddenly fills me, when I recall the state on my flat. Will I ever see it again? They wouldn’t kill me if they expected money off me, right? Sucking in a breath I open my eyes. Meeting his deathly stare, I can’t help but wonder what this man has seen. Has he killed anyone? Obviously.
“I’ll do whatever you want, I’ll pay you, I’ve already told you that. Please just let me go”
He huffs in laughter before glancing at his man at the door and giving him a nod. I want to throw up so badly, even though I know nothing, but bile will come up with it. Minutes later I hear the clicking of shoes on the floor and his grip drops from my chin. I turn towards the door to see a woman I recognize but have never seen.
Dressed in a designer dress, navy blue with pearls stitched into the shoulders. Her hair is pinned back into an Aubrey Hepburn style and diamond jewelry hugs her neck and ears. Slender legs give way to a tropical looking tan and sleek navy heels. My world stops spinning as I glance between her and the man clearly in charge of this shit show.
He raises his arm, silently beckoning her towards him before pulling her in for an embrace and kissing her.
Flicking a glance between me and the woman who looks like a polar opposite to the one I remember, he smirks. He fucking smirks at me, and I know my fate is sealed. I’m Powerless.
That woman is my mother.
To Be Continued….