Page 51 of Mafia Kings: Dario

“Hello?” I said, louder this time. “Is anyone there?”

“Yes?” a man’s voice answered from the rear of the church, startling me.

A priest in a black robe appeared out of the gloom. His face was thin with hollow cheeks, his wispy grey hair unkempt. He walked with a cane, and he looked up into the air as though searching the rafters for something.

I realized he was blind.

“Is someone there?” he called out.

I quickly moved closer to him. “I need your help.”

His blank eyes gravitated towards my voice as he smiled. “Yes, my child?”

I felt uneasy. There was something unsettling about the way his eyes roved over me.

But he was a priest. I was finally safe.

“I need to call my father,” I said. “He lives near Mensano.”

“You’re quite a ways from home. What are you doing here? Did your car break down?”

“No – the Rosolinis were holding me prisoner. I just now escaped.”

“The Rosolinis!” he exclaimed, and his face suddenly darkened.

“Yes.”

“And you escaped, you say?”

“Yes.”

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, Father.”

“They did not take advantage of you?”

“No.”

“They did not…sullyyou?”

The way he said it was disturbing…

Like he was imagining me being touched – or worse –

And he almost seemed to enjoy it.

“No, they didn’t do anything,” I said with a frown. “But I need to call my father to let him know I’m alright.”

“I’m afraid I don’t have a telephone, my dear.”

“None?” I asked in astonishment.

He held out his arms and gestured to the church around him. “As you can see, there is not much here. This is an old village and an even older church.”

My heart filled with despair. “Well, someone in the village must have a phone, yes?”

“Probably, but – you escaped from the Rosolinis, you said?”

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