Page 71 of Forbidden Property
Gino: She texted. She’s fine. Peter tracked her down last week and she’s his responsibility now.
Michael: I’ll be there soon. 5 hours. Saying goodbye to the missus.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Geralynn
Before we leave the warehouse parking lot, more players come onto the scene. I learn the identities of our captors while we’re on the way to the third location. I lose hope about surviving tonight, but I’m keeping an open mind. Our tall kidnapper is Vince Gravina and the shorter one is Martino. I think his last name is Gravina too, but they don’t look as similar as I would expect for brothers.
The second car showed up with Franco, Benny, and their captive – Angela. Over the course of the next half hour, I hear the whispers of their plan and it’s not that hard to piece together. The third car shows up with a girl I don’t recognize. She has platinum blond shaggy hair cut short and lots of eyeliner around her eyes.
She arrives in the custody of just one man – Giancarlo Gravina. I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep all of them straight when – not if – I finally get away from here. I don’t feel good about the situation at all.
They herd all of us towards one SUV and prod us into the spacious back seats. I can’t believe thismom vanis going to be where I spend the last minutes of my life. I hate the new carsmell and detect the faint scent of bleach beneath it. We’re in a moving crime scene.
When Franco pushes us into the backseat one at a time, I finally catch the shaggy blond girl’s name. CC. Nicki holds my hand while we sit next to each other, but I’m completely numb to her efforts at reaching out to me. We’re not going to get out of this alive. I don’t believe it.
The next drive only lasts fifteen minutes. I don’t feel better that we’re in the parking lot of an old Catholic church built out of stone with large gothic towers. We’re still behind a church. Martino drags us out of the mom van and we walk inside large double wooden doors held open by Franco.
We aren’t in control here. Angela pulls Nicki close to her and CC stands on her own.
“We picked up Flora three weeks ago,” Giancarlo says to Franco. “She’s in the basement at the rock’s house.”
The rock must be some sort of code name. Franco appears to be the mastermind here and I don’t take my eyes off him while I realize that. The men are all equally terrifying, but I can’t tell how they’re related. There are just too many details and my stomach has finally started to hurt.
“We need the black girl as a witness,” Franco says quietly. “That’s all we need her for. Is Father Vescovi here?”
“Upstairs waiting,” Martino answers. “I got a text.”
“Perfect. Take Angela and the black girl upstairs.”
“HEY!” Nicki calls out, earning the attention of all five men in the stone passageway beneath the church. It smells musty and damp down here. The only source of warmth I have is the closeness of the other women. But they’re family – I’m not. I wrap my arms around my chest, wincing at Nicki’s loud exclamation.
Is this really my best source of protection right now?
“You can’t separate me and Geralynn.”
“We’re not going to hurt her, you stupid slut,” Franco snarls. “Now shut up, or I’ll cut off a piece of your tongue.”
Martino and Giancarlo stifle a chuckle, but I don’t find any of this funny. I give Nicki a pleading look, hoping she takes the hint and shuts the hell up. This man said he wouldn’t hurt me and I don’t want to push him.
“What the hell do you want with her then?”
“A witness.”
Two men emerge from the top floor of the church wearing all black. Their faces are covered with black masks like that type you would wear at a masquerade ball and their clothes are simple black tailored suits that smell like wool and Dior cologne. What the fuck do they mean by “a witness?”
The energy in the room shifts as the men arrive. Angela’s eyes grow so wide that her pupils blacken and cover up the color of her irises. Her eyebrows and the sharp angle of her jawline remind me of Renzo, but she otherwise looks very different from him. Can she recognize the men behind the masks or is she scared because of her fate?
I feel like I’m about to witness a ritual sacrifice. Franco grabs my arm, but he doesn’t squeeze tightly enough to cut off blood flow. I shouldn’t count that as merciful.
“Don’t worry, you’ll be back to the cesspool you came from in no time,” Franco snarls.
The two masked men hold onto either side of Angela and lead her up the stairs. Franco leads me behind them and pushes at me again with another snide comment.
“Did you let some thug get you pregnant out of wedlock?” Franco asks me. “Or are you some whore trying to scam the mob out of money?”
“Shut the hell up, Franco,” Angela snaps. “She’s just curvy.”
