Page 14 of Married into the Mob
His mouth gaped, but luckily he didn’t say anything. Just as well or I might have tossed one of his expensive cushions at his head.
“Open the door, please.”
“It’s three times as big as the ones on a plane. Do you need help?”
My slack-jawed appearance must have convinced him I was horrified. But in case he didn’t get the message, I re-enforced it. “I can unzip my pants and hold my d… myself without your help.” I waddled into the bathroom, thighs pressed together, and went to close the door but left it open a little. “Don’t listen. Put your fingers in your ears.”
“If I’d known your phobia was so debilitating, I might have taken you elsewhere. A panic room in the bowels of the earth wasn’t such a great idea.”
“Don’t talk about bowels. Not now. Sing, and not Humpty Dumpty.” Gods, not when I was in the bathroom. Nothing about a dump. Yikes. I almost giggled. It was so bizarre with my kidnapper singing at the top of his voice so he wouldn’t hear me pee.
“Louder,” I shouted.
With the door cracked so I didn’t freak, I peed, and gods, what a relief. There were no icky smells and the bathroom was luxurious, despite not having a shower. Plump scented towels were rolled up on a shelf above the small vanity, and the soap’s floral aroma smelled filthy rich.
“I’ll do one better.”
He was still singing as I flushed, but it was accompanied by a weird tapping. After washing my hands and loving how soft the towel was compared to the ones at home that were rock hard, I emerged.
Hunter was singing and tap-tap dancing around the space. He reminded me of actors from 1940s musicals that Aunt Louisa liked. Linking arms with imaginary dance partners, he belted out a song, and when he was done, he bowed.
I had the urge to clap, but he hadn’t clarified his purpose for keeping me locked up other than his generic response of, “To keep you safe.”
“Let me guess. You wanted a career on the stage, your name in lights, but Daddy said no.”
I plonked myself onto the sofa, and after toeing off my shoes, I put my feet up. I’d decided as I was his prisoner, I could do what I damned well pleased while in this underground jail. Up to a point. Using the phone was out.
“My dad was assassinated.” His voice wobbled, and the joy was wrung from his face.
Shit, I did that. I fucked up and my words were a slap on the cheek, a kick to the gut, and a crushing blow to his shoulder.
“Hunter, I’m sorry.” There were no words to express how awful I felt. But we weren’t friends. I couldn’t hug him and give him a kiss or buy him a sweet treat. I inched across the floor, figuring being near him might… might what? Me hovering close by wouldn’t make him feel better.
“It’s okay. How could you have known?” Compared to his singing, his voice was small, laced with pain and barely audible.
Being part of the mafia was dangerous, and members of the organization got eliminated frequently according to the TV shows I watched.
Hunter’s phone dinged. Huh. He was allowed to use a device but not me. He probably assumed, rightly, I’d call the cops.
But he flipped the device around to show me my aunt and uncle in the backseat of a car. Aunt Louisa was leaning away from her husband. Not that I blamed her.
“Please tell them I’m okay.”
Hunter nodded and spoke into the phone.
“Where are they being taken? Please bring them here.” I couldn’t face my uncle. “Or somewhere where no one can hurtthem.” I had to trust him to look after my family, even though I might be deep in mafia shit.
He tapped the phone. “They’ll go to a place we visit on a full moon.”
I rubbed the furrows on my brow, the lines so deep I worried they’d never unfold. “Where you perform a weird ritual once a month? Is it a naked thing?”
“Ummm, not exactly.”
“Please bring them here.” I needed Aunt Louisa, and while she wouldn’t want to be in a mafia stronghold, she would suck it up for me.
Hunter stared at me before fixing his gaze on the phone. “Okay,” he said eventually.
An alarm sounded. Shit! How did Draven find us? I squealed and dived behind the sofa just as the microwave dinged again, eliciting another screech from me.
