Chapter 82: James & Alessandro Part 5
James POV
I groaned at the bright light that was shining through the blinds, bringing my consciousness back. Squint-eyed, I let out another groan, feeling the fatigue taking reign over my body, the energy being completely depleted from it.
"God, what time is it?" I rasped, bringing my hand to my forehead- my head still in a hazy state.
'Hmm?' My eyes shifted to my hand, noticing something off about it. Staring long and hard at it, a sudden realization hit me in the gut and I jackknifed into a sitting position.
"Argh!" A cry that was coated with unadulterated pain went past my lips, feeling a sharp pain flashing through my spine. Grinding my teeth, my upper body bends over as my hand winds behind my back; rubbing the sore spot.
"What the hell?" I muttered incredulously. "Why is my back so so-" Memories of the vigorous exercise that mafia boy and I executed the other day filled my mind- taking my power of speech away.
I felt my body flaring up as the embarrassing feeling washed over me. The knuckles of my fingers were turning white, gripping the wool duvet with all of their strength. "That bastard won't get away with toying with my body like that." I said through gritted teeth, promising vengeance, and that's when something about my hand caught my attention again.
"They aren't on." I mumbled to myself, watching the red mark that was wounded around both of my wrists; a remnant of their imprisonment with the cuffs. A second thing that caught my attention was my clothed body. I was wearing a white oversized t-shirt which obviously didn't belong to me and when I slightly pulled up the blanket, I saw that I wore black pants.
'When did he do this?' I wondered. 'Huh? Wait, a second, that also means then…'
Hesitantly, I pulled up my pants to take a peek and I could feel my face being painted with crimson at the horrifying sight of my cleaned bottom. I was sure that he came inside of me, but nothing was leaking out. My sweat has been cleaned up too and my body smelled good.
I scowled. Why did he bother to clean me? Back in the past, when I sold my body for some small cash, the guys would immediately leave after relieving themselves, not even bothering cleaning their own shit that they had left behind in the room. I would clean up everything- it was the same with my past relationships.
So why would he?
I groaned, ruffling my hair in frustration. 'Whatever! Let's not think about it, you're not good at thinking, anyway.' I reminded myself.
The most important thing right now is trying to figure out on how to "escape." I uttered the last word and winced at the hoarseness of my voice- my throat feeling like sandpaper.
"I need water right now." I rasped, bringing my hand to my throat, wanting to sooth the itching feeling. I flinched, feeling my fingers grazing at something… metallic? In an alarmed state, I sprung out of the bed and ran to the bathroom.
Swinging the door open, I ran with a haste to the sink to look at the mirror that hung above it. Leaning closer to the mirror, shock crossed my face when I realized what that thing was that was enclosed around my neck. My body shook with anger, bringing my trembling fingers to my neck to touch the metallic collar. In the middle of the collar was something red that kept on blinking.
I tried to pry it off me, but no matter how hard I pulled on it- it won't come off.
"What the fuck is this!" I sheeted, slamming my hand at the marble wall next to the mirror. Quivering eyes that were still shaking with fury peered at the collar in the reflection. So, after bringing me by force to Italy and binding my hands against the wall- you now want to collar me like a fucking dog!?
My fist collided with the sink as I was heaving with anger. Well, sorry to tell you this mafia boy, but I will not play your stupid game! I have to get out of here. I also have to figure out how to get this off, but that's something that we can think about when I get out of this shit-hole.
I turned on the faucet, quenching my parched mouth with the running water. Back in the room I searched around, scavenging in hope to find something to defend myself against him and his lackeys, but no matter how hard I looked around I wasn't able to find anything that could be labeled as a weapon.
"Shit!" I cursed, stomping my foot in frustration on the ground. What now? interweaving my arms in front of my chest, I pondered. Humming in thought, my eyes darted to the door. I trudged to it and when I stood in front of it, placed my hands on my waist- scrutinizing the doorhandle.
There's no way that the door is open. Should I just try to break the doorhandle? Leaning closer, I placed my ear at the wooden door, straining it- trying to pick up any footsteps or chatters.
Hearing nothing, I leaned back and placed my hand on the doorhandle and tried to push it down.
I could hear a clicking sound. My jaw went slack, my eyes went broad; watching agape at the door that was ajar.
Confusion enshrouded my mind as I unwittingly took a step back, looking at the door skeptic. They didn't lock the door? Did they perhaps forget? I shook my head. No, they wouldn't make a mistake like that.
I glanced at the door wearily and placed my hand back on the doorhandle, clasping my fingers around it. Should I just make a run for it? They didn't blindfold my eyes when they brought me here, so I know where I am. I'm in one of the bedrooms on the first-floor of this mansion. Right at the end of the hallway is a staircase that leads straight to the lobby and immediately passed that is the door that leads to the outside. If I just sprint full strength, then I can make it out of here in no time. They can't easily catch me as I'm pretty nimble- well, my lower back does hurt like a bitch. It can influence my speed, but there is still no way that they can catch me.
"Okay, lets do this." I muttered to myself with a determinate expression. I swung the door wide open and ran.
"Comare*." A low timbre voice came from right behind me, stopping me in my tracks as I spun around in fright. "Jesus Christ!" I shrieked. A bald man who was taller and broader than Alessandro was standing in front of me. His chocolate skin was shining under the well-lit hallway, but it was marred with scars. A big scar across his face only made him look more menacing.
Instantly, I squared up, preparing myself for any sudden attacks. My thoughts were running in circles, not understanding where this man came from. I didn't hear anybody walk or talk in this hallway, so where did he come from!? There's no way that my ears had deceived me-unless he was standing there from the beginning!
Was he supposed to guard me? Argh! I guess I have no choice but to fight him then. I glowered low at him as I was tightening my stance.
The big man started the move closer.
'Here it comes!' I pulled back my arm as I was about to throw my fist at him, but then,
"Sorry… Comare." Apologizing, the big man bowed at me- bending his back ninety degrees. Bewildered, I blinked copiously. "What?" I said. "You're not going to fight me?" I asked. Still in the same position, he shook his head. "No… rude… to Comare." He said in a slow manner.
Not relaxing my stance, I shot him a sharp glare. "You have been saying Comare this whole time- what's that?" I questioned.
Not looking at my face from his position, he raised his index finger and pointed at me.
Puzzled, my brow arched. "Me? Why are you calling me Comare?"
"Don's… partner." He answered.
Don's partner? Is he talking about mafia boy? Knitting my brows together, I glowered lowly. "I'm not Don's partner. I rather die than be his partner."
In a swift movement, the big man stood straight again, shaking his head vehemently; his face completely flustered. "N-No… can't… that's… no" His voice was freight with panic reflecting the dilemma in his eyes at the words that I spewed.
I scowled, frustrated by the man's cryptic and slow speech, and let out a heavy sigh, bringing my hand to my forehead. "Whatever." I muttered. "If you're not here to capture me, then I'll just take my leave." I twirled around and ran for the staircase, pumping my arms to increase my speed.
Descending the stairs, I head straight for the front door without looking back. I clasped my hand around the doorknob, twisted it, and heard the satisfying click. This was also not locked. I can just easily leave like that?
Enshrouded with thoughts, I slowly opened the door and was about to step out of it when suddenly a snicker erupted from behind me. I snapped my head around and saw the cronies of mafia boy making themselves comfortable around a round table, playing poker.
They all stared at me. Some of them had an unbothered expression on, while the others were wearing an inconspicuous smirk on their faces, setting an eerie feeling down my spine.
"Shit, you idiot, we would have won the bet if you kept your mouth shut!" One man smacked the other man from behind his head. The smacked man grumbled something under his breath before darting his eyes at me.
They were sitting there the whole time, watching me the whole time- but didn't bother to stop me? What's going on? Unanswered questions just kept popping up, but there was one thing that I was sure of. I turned my head back, facing the door that was slightly open now.
It had something to do with why all doors weren't locked. It's like they wanted me to escape- no, they are confident that I wouldn't escape no matter what. Why?
Gulping down my saliva nervously, I swung the door open and crouched, shielding my head with my arms- fearing that somebody was going to shoot me as soon as I opened the door.
But no shots were fired instead laughter and snickers erupted from the table, their mocking voices reaching my ears.
"What the hell is he doing?"
"Is he an idiot?"
"Definitely an idiot."
Still in a crouched position, my cheeks wear turning red as the anger heated my blood. 'Those bastards are making fun of me!'
Not wanting to spend in this rotten place any longer, I stood up and took a big stride to the outside world. The moment that my feet made past the threshold, a blinding light was exerted from the collar, forcing me to screw my eyes shut. Millions of electric currents were streaming through my body, burning every nerve in it.
"Argh!" I cried as bolts of electricity kept being lashed out at my body. Feeling my brain being fried, I instantaneously brought my body back inside.
The blinding light was dwindling into a soft glow and the shocks of electricity that the collar kept releasing ceased. My legs buckled under me, pluming my body down to the wooden floor.
While my body was still in turmoil from the unidentified attack, those annoying cronies were guffawing.
"See! I told you he would do it. Now where's my fifty bucks." The man opened his hand in wait for his money.
I could hear an annoyed tongue clicking sound. "Here." The other man grumbled, handing his money over.
What's going on? I was laying flat on my back, my breathing sawing in and out- small dots were appearing in my vision. "The... hell is going on?" I croaked.
"You guys are having fun I see." A booming voice ripped of amusement entered the room. The joyful babbles that came from the table died; their expressions taken over by fear as they quickly stood up from their seat- bowing, ninety degrees. "Welcome Don!"
The clacking sounds of shoes hitting the floor became louder as they came closer to me. I could hear an elongated sigh above my head. I looked up, seeing mafia boy's pissed off expression. "You just couldn't wait, could you?"
Only a feeble groan escaped my lips. He exhaled and crouched down, cradling me against his chest, and stood up with me in his arms. "Sleep. Next time you wake up we will have a long conversation."
At his command, my body went on an immediate strike, shutting itself down, my consciousness slowly fading to black.
*Comare: literally "godmother" in Southern Italian slang, usually pronounced "goomah" or "goomar" in American English: a Mafia mistress.
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