“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.