Page 36 of A Mafia's Treasure

Il Mio Tesoro: What! Making up for what? The fact I have a job to do.

Me: Don’t be a brat

Il Mio Tesoro: Seriously! You think I need to be punished because I haven’t met you, because I have to WORK!! Why don’t you punish my boss instead. I’m told he can be a right asshole anyway.

Me: Come see me tonight … with the attitude. Don’t forget to text.

Il Mio Tesoro:

I laugh at her response but choose not to respond. Despite everything, today is looking up.

Chapter26

Gabriele

I’m so fucking cold. I’ve been sitting on this cold, damp floor for what feels like forever. The drip, drop, drip, drop from the water pipes is constant like a ticking clock. It’s like a ticking clock. At first you don’t notice it, but when you do, it’s so fucking annoying.

The smell is awful from the plastic buckets in the corner to piss and shit in, and that’s if they’re feeling generous enough to leave one. Sick son of a bitches!

All they feed us is bread and water, that shit tastes like cardboard. I won’t be sorry if I never see a piece of bread again in my life.

When I first came here a couple of years ago, I fought every day to get free. Now fighting seems pointless because all it does is waist energy—energy I don’t fucking have anymore.

I stopped wondering if my family were looking for me a long time ago. It sent me crazy! I knew deep down they would be, but where the fuck would they start. I got grabbed off the street one day and never returned.

They want something because I’ve been kept alive all this time, yet they’ve never sent a ransom. He won’t answer why or what his plan is … it makes no sense.

I’ve been joined down here in this cellar by numerous cell mates, but I am the only one left … except her.

She doesn’t say much, but she’s been here for the past six months, I would say, and each time that fucker O’Connor comes back, he takes a piece of her with him when he leaves, and there is fuck all I can do about it either.

I don’t know what has kept him but he hasn’t been back for months, so we both know we’re due a visit, and the tension in here is high.

We’re both chained to the walls behind us, and my wrists are raw from the chaffing. I have welts from the beatings we both receive on a weekly basis, though I’m not quite sure what the purpose is, but like I say, my fight has got up and fucked off. The small smiles I get from her everyday seem to keep me going, and I see a spark in her deep brown eyes that makes me believe all is not lost. Maybe there is a chance we’ll get out of here … one day.

I look up at heavy footsteps on the concrete steps. The lock of the metal creaks in the silent night as our captor opens the door, shining a light inside and blinding us temporarily.

I feel a sudden prick in my arm and know that the fuckers have given me a sedative again. I’ll soon be out, but not before I hear her whimpers. It’s the same routine, and my eyes drift slowly closed as I meet her teary gaze through the legs of Brendon fucking O’Conner.

We both know what’s happening here, but I can’t escape and neither can she. I can’t fight the weight of my eyes as they begin to close, but the look in her eyes will forever be ingrained in my brain.

I don’t know how long I’ve been out, but it’s long enough for those mother fuckers to take what they want. I know one thing, if I ever get out of here, that son of a bitch is first on my hit list.

My head feels heavy, and I hear her voice quietly calling me. “Hey, wake up. Psst, psst,” she whispers, or maybe I’m imagining it.

I raise my head and look over to see her standing over me. “Wha ... How?” I go to ask.

“Shush. We have no time and have to get out of here now,” she tells me as she tries to help me up. I drag myself against the wall and stand, then head after her only to be stopped by my shackles, rattling to remind me I’m being held here.

“Shoot!” She shakes her head, looking around.

“Just go, get out of here. Find out where we are. You can’t stay here, it's not safe,” I urge her.

“I c-can’t leave you.” Her eyes well with tears as she searches through a bunch of keys she has in her hands.

“Where did you get those?” I ask.

“He dropped them when he rushed out after he got an urgent call. You know … earlier.” She casts her eyes down as if she is ashamed.

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