Page 60 of The Freedom in Captivity

He never taught me enough to fight back against him. Or, somehow I was hardwired unable to do so. Maybe because I was already in the monster’s web, and his training never exactly got me into the fighting shape it should have.

The single time I tried to block his incoming hit, I paid for the act of defiance.

The basement door opens and shuts again, taking me from the latest trip through my hellish memories. It feels like it’s only been an hour since they brought me to the bathroom so I can’t help but be dismayed that I’ve clearly lost an entire night. Time is slipping faster and faster away. Not sure if that’s positive or not…

Through the darkness, I’m able to make out the shape of who comes down and it’s not either of the men. It’s also not someone new. I know his figure as well as I know my own.

He doesn’t approach, so I don’t move from the sleeping bag I’ve dragged to the centre of the room. Being unchained means having access to these luxuries he once teased me with.

I wait for him to speak, counting sixty seconds, and wonder if he’s also waiting for me to begin. Uncomfortable silence, is it?

Eventually, he sits right at the base of the stairs, his back against the far wall so he’s facing me. His legs stretch out in front of him, crossing at the ankles. That’s all I’m able to make out though, and I wish he’d turn on the light so I can see his face. A long sigh follows, signalling the break in silence.

“Your last day of school was also mine. I dropped out after you left.”

He’s telling me about the past. Somehow, this feels like a win.

He hadn’t said the exact words, but I feel I was the reason for him dropping out. He could have fucked his high school education because of the words I chose that day. I’m not sad for having saved him, even if I didn’t go about it in the kindest way, but the domino effect my words caused was unplanned.

“I didn’t want to return to a place where every room would remind me of you. I went home that day, packed a bag, and left while my father was still at work. From what I know, he never searched for me, and I never returned.”

His father was a verbally and emotionally abusive asshole. I’m sure he would have been physically too, had Flynn not stood up for himself when he started getting bigger. In so many ways, Flynn and I share a similar past with shitty parents.

“I was hiding between two buildings when Caterina Corsetti spotted me. I don’t know why the Corsettis chose me, but once Caterina realized I wasn’t a threat, they offered me food. It was the first proper meal I had in a while. They took me to their private gym for a shower and Lorenzo gave me fresh clothes. After that, Caterina refused to let me go. They gave me a room in the mansion. Still not sure why,” his voice lightens with a fondness that makes me jealous of the Corsettis, “but they took me in, accepted me into the fold. I started working out with Enzo—Lorenzo—and eventually he trained me to fight. Hand-to-hand combat at first, and then with weapons. I assumed they were helping me before sending me back out into the world, but as the months passed, I found myself not wanting to leave the life they had provided. Caterina insisted I get my GED, so I had my high school diploma. To this day, I haven’t needed it, but I’m still thankful she cared enough to pressure me. After a few more months, I asked to be sworn in. Took the oaths and never looked back.” He pauses. “In the beginning, you asked how I got here. That’s how.”

After what I assume is a few days without any contact from him, he’s found his way back to me, presumably late at night based on my most recent bathroom trip. And the first thing he says is a story of his past. This means something. I think.

“I’m glad you found a home,” I say truthfully. “How’d you make it to this role?”

“Over time,” he responds right away. “I hung out a lot with their current enforcer at the time. Not sure why, but I appreciated his job. The others, as great as they were, stayed away from him. He once told me there’s silence in his position, even amongst their enemies’ screams, and that statement’s always stuck with me. When their ex-enforcer retired, Enzo offered me the role. Said I was perfect for it. That was five years ago.”

I glance at my palm, the scar—our promise. If he wasn’t an enforcer, would our lives have even intersected? He could very well be off, working as the other soldiers are. Fate brought us together.

“What about Nico and Rafael? You’re close in age. You would have trained with them. You guys close?”

“Yes and no. Yes, as in I feel comfortable with them. Almost as much as I do their parents. But I’ve always preferred to be alone, so I spent more time away from them than with them. Besides, by the time I was inducted, a lot of their own training was already finished. They were full-fledged members for a couple years.”

“I’m glad,” I tell him without explaining why. Even when he’s distanced himself, he’s still found people who enjoy his company and respect his boundaries. Somehow, these mobsters seem like genuine friends to him.

The next time he speaks, the question he poses is seemingly random, but I get the sense it isn’t. Flynn obviously came down here with a purpose, and it wasn’t to tell me his story; it was to get mine.

“The bruises you came to school with, they were from Stefano, weren’t they?”

My thumb strokes over the spot on my left arm where Dad frequently used to grab me. His abuse was never around Mom, but once I saw a matching mark on her. She noticed that I spotted it, and both our injuries became the silent entrapment Dad forced onto us.

“Yes.”

There’s a shifting noise, but he doesn’t stand. “Your father abused you. Are you honestly that loyal to him?”

No.I say nothing.

“Why would he hurt you?” Flynn asks after a moment of silence.

My shoulders lift in a shrug, although he likely can’t see. “Why do abusers harm anyone? Dad was…angry. Always pissed off.” Eventually I learned why he was so on edge most of my life. Still not an excuse, but an explanation. “He took his mood out on me sometimes.”

“You never told me.”

Is that hurt in his tone?

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