Page 15 of Caught in the Middle

'His family are a big deal in Sicily. Huge, in fact. They run their empire from Palermo. Everyone knows the Leonardo family over there - there isn't a city, town or village from the southern coast up to the most northern part of Italy who hasn’t felt their presence in some way. They are the most stereotypical mafia bosses, you know, the type you see in Al Pacino films. Working for the people, bribing the police and so forth. Joey is the youngest out of five boys, who have all made a big name for themselves in Italy - his oldest brother, Frankie, for example, owns the whole of the Italian betting industry. His second older brother owns the every hotel on the coast... well, you get the idea.'

Lucy nodded, taking it all in.

'So, there wasn't really an area left in Italy for Joey to make his mark. So, when he was 18, he took the move over to the U.K, with the aim to make a name for himself in the seedy London underground.

‘However, he was definitely in for a surprise. His whole life, he was used to living off his family name, you didn’t have to know Joey personally to know him. But in England, quite frankly, nobody gave a shit. There wasn't that same feeling of fear. In fact, when he came to London trying to throw his weight around... he was met with ridicule. London was ran by other foreign gangs, the working class, wheelers and dealers who had made their way up using respect and loyalty amongst their communities. The traditional Italian mob mentality of just killing anyone who got in their way was seen as outdated. Not only was that method of gaining power not seen as moral, it was risky, and that's how you got yourself locked away, and how you ended getting a mark on your head.

‘But Joey Leonardo was very, very persistent. Within a few years, his traditional, ruthless methods helped him force his way to the top. The men who laughed at his suits, his massive diamond watches and weird accent were now working for him. Soon, the underworld based on loyalty and respect was fully replaced by Joeys reign, of fear, murder and money.

Joey and his men don't just scare the living shit out of people, but he's one of the richest men in the world. He's built up such a wealthy empire, that he can bribe his way out of any situation. It's the first time Britain has had a crime lord who is fully untouchable.'

Lucy could hear the disgust in Oliver's voice. There was no doubt he hated him, and everything he stood for. But he still hadn't answered Lucy's questions.

'But why me?' She was growing impatient, but was happy that at least he was finally explaining what was going on to her in a way that she could understand. Oliver eyed her, almost suspiciously.

'Well, Joey likes to play games. Sadistic, twisted games. Every year, he assassinates one random English girl... just out of spite. To show what control he has over this country. To show those bosses who laughed at him and made racial digs at his Italian heritage. He does it as a reminder that he's in charge, and he can take any of their people in a heartbeat -'

' - Well why isn't this in the news all the time? I've never even heard of him, surely everyone would know?'

Oliver laughed, Lucy got the feeling he was almost pitying her.

'His crimes are always in the paper, Lucy. But you’ll always see headlines about a 'missing girl' or 'suicide not treated as suspicious.' The Italian mafia are all about subtly. They don't want the public knowing their business of course, but those who he wants to reach... well, they know.'

Lucy began to feel a wave of panic. And for the first time since she got into Oliver's car, she fully believed him.

'And how do you know? And why do you want to help me?'

His face darkened, he ran a nervous hand through his hair.

'Joey and I go way back,' he chewed his bottom lip, 'and I'm just a crusader who got sick of seeing innocent girls get hurt, for his sick fun and games. I just hope that if I keep saving these girls lives, maybe he'll find another way prove a point to the old gangs, and leave these girls out of it.'

He picked up the newspaper and sighed. 'Poor Bethan. Her niece was hit by Joey’s gang five years ago. She had been helping me ever since. They'd finally caught up with her.' He fondly stroked her smiling face on the front page and tore his eyes away to look out the window.

He stared for a while, and Lucy wondered what was going through his head.

She couldn't even begin to figure out what was going on in hers. How her life had changed in the space of 24 hours. It had all come on so fast. One thing was for sure though, as she looked down at the newspaper Oliver was clutching, she knew that she believed him. Yes, he was crazy, erratic and mysterious, but something within her now knew that he was her only chance at survival.

Still, she had so many questions, but looking at Oliver deep in thought, she had a feeling that she maybe give the interrogation a rest for a minute.

'Lucy,' he said suddenly, lowering his eyes to the bed. 'I'm really sorry about yesterday. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that.'

'You really didn't help me to believe you.' Lucy retorted, wryly.

'I know,' he had gone slightly pink, 'I can't always control my anger, and every now and again it gets the better of me. I'm trying to work on it, but...' he trailed off and sighed.

Lucy felt a pang of sympathy for him. There was something about this new found timidness that she found endearing. Over the last 24 hrs she had only seen his smooth, charming side, or his burning temper. This timidness was new to her, and it was surprisingly appealing. She had a desire to reach out and touch him... but she was still strapped to this fucking bed.

Seeing her tug jolted Oliver back to the present. 'Ah, yes, let me just get rid of these.' When he leaned over to undo the knots, she breathed in his musky aftershave, triggers a fluttering feeling in her stomach. Even though he clearly had slept in yesterday’s clothes, he still smelled amazing.

She scorned herself for being so weird, and forced herself to snap back into survival mode. Once she was loose, he picked up both of her wrists in one hand, and traced them softly with a finger.

'You don't have awful wrist burn, thankfully,' he said quietly. He reached up to the lump on her forehead, and brushed across it. 'Does it hurt?'

Her heart was pounding as she shook her head. She mentally scorned herself again. Snap out of it, Lucy, he's still a weirdo with multiple personality disorder... and is probably involved with a seedy gang!

'Good,' he smiled at her squeezed her leg. He raised his eyebrows as he looked at his watch. 'Shit,' he said, 'we need to get moving, like an hour ago.' He cast a judgemental eye over Lucy. 'You need a shower, there's clean towels in the bathroom, and I’ll get in after you.'

He stood up and headed for the door, but turned around to face her just before he crossed into the corridor.

'Do you trust me now?'

And Lucy did. She knew she didn't have 100% good reason to, but she just knew he was the good guy, the one who was going to get her out of this situation.

She nodded.

He lowered his eyes and turned back through the door. 'You've got ten minutes, hurry up.'

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