Chapter 5. Taken

Walking alone, I contemplate everything. I have no money, no phone, nothing. I was stripped of it all soon after the truth unfolded. This is the only moment I get alone when running Dan’s errands. I tried escaping before, and the thought of Gino, my father touching me again to teach me a lesson has me too scared to even consider it now.

Sitting down, guilt floods me. Those shots were meant for me. Somewhere inside, I feel like they were meant for me, not Rose, not Ethan. Me. I know I should have died, I just don't see why I didn't.

"Can you come with me, please, Miss." I look at the man before me, the SUV parked on the curb. Shit.

"If I refuse?" Standing, I get ready to run.

"Then you're forced. Either way, you can't get away." He nods in both directions, showing more SUV's and people. So I have to go with them. Sucking in a breath, I walk to the SUV and climb in.

I guess they saw me. Or maybe they have CCTV? I didn't consider that. I didn’t consider covering my face.

"Darling, you always forget the simplest things. It's like your mind goes past the norm to the unusual. You would forget your keys to drive, but remember that shade of lipstick code perfectly."

I smile, hearing my mother's words. She isn't wrong. I considered that someone may be inside and armed. I considered people being on the doors. I even considered how I would escape if I walked in and the door locked behind me.

Covering my face, hiding my identity? That I failed to consider.

"Where are you taking me?" I peer at the men in the SUV. Silence follows my question.

"Somewhere good, I hope, because I'm bored of the scenery, if I'm honest." I hear one of them groan. If they think this will be easy, they are wrong.

"Put her to sleep." I laugh at the man's words and feel a hand clamping over my neck. Panic surges through me. He's not choking me. The pressure is on the side of my neck?

Slowly, my eyes slip closed as I hear him talking about peace at last. 

Fuck you, dude.

~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~

Waking, I try and move, finding myself unable to. Opening my eyes, I look around. I'm in the warehouse. So, this is because of the gun?

Shit.

I watch a guy stand ahead of me. Looking down, I stare at my feet. Why are my shoes and socks off? I'm confused as hell right now.

"Do you know why you're here?" He bends down, his hands clasped together between his legs.

"Well, there could be many reasons." My lips twitch slightly.

"Don't fuck about. You know why you were brought here."

This dude doesn't like me. He's the one who said to knock me out. He’s not the main guy, though. Something tells me he isn’t that high up. Grinning, I glance at my feet.

"To play dress up? That is why you took my socks and shoes off, right? You're giving me a pedicure. That sounds epic. I need some beauty therapy." I laugh, watching as his hand swings and hits my face.

Ouch.

"My bad, beefcake, I forgot, it's to play the little piggies, right?"

He frowns at me, his nostrils flaring.

"This little piggy went to the market," I say sweetly, and his hand swings, hitting me again.

"This little piggy stayed at home," I say grumpily. His hand swinging. I brace myself for the impact and see a hand catch it before it hits.

His body tumbles back as a guy walks in front of me.

"Who the fuck gave you permission to hit her?" He steps forward again, and the beefcake that had been hitting me retreats more.

"She was mocking, thinking it's a joke." The beefcake man no longer looks so big and hard. He has shrunk in size. Is this new guy the main guy? I glance around. The stances of others say he is.

It has to be for Mr beefcake to react like this. I watch his hand pull the gun from the back of his trousers.

"I will ask again. Who gave you permission to hit her?" His words are vicious, and Mr beefcake is a snivelling mess.

Go on, Mr Scarface. Make him scream!

I don't know why I'm calling him Scarface. Maybe it's because of the movie? Who knows? I don't even know if he has a scar on his face. I jump, holding in the scream as the gun fires, and my friend Mr beefcake falls to the floor.

"Someone clean him up." I watch as he turns to me, walking back. He grips my chin and inspects my face. I'm withering beneath his gaze. He's beautifully tanned, tall, with a masculine jawline, and god, his chest fills out the suit.

Praise to his parents who created him, cause damn he's hot. My pulse begins to race, and I swallow loudly.

"Did he hurt you?"

My eyes roll. If only you knew.

"I can see you won't be easy to talk to." Sighing, he straightens himself again. Grabbing a chair, he pulls it in front of me and sits. My mind reeling, trying to process what to do and say.

I shuffle beneath his gaze. He isn't doing anything, just watching me. When I thought of the Mafia, I thought of an old fat guy, not God himself. He will be eye candy while I am no doubt tortured into speaking the truth.

Absent-mindedly, my tongue darts over my bottom lip before I bite against it.

No! Lucia, enemy, not eye candy, fucking enemy.

I'm so damn weak. I roll my eyes to myself and hear his deep sigh, his eyes staying on mine.

Okay, duche, you're making me fucking nervous with the eye contact.

Glancing to the floor, I suck in a breath. When I glance back up, his eyes are still on mine. Shit.