Borgata - Book II #wattys2016

Chapter 5: Kick in the Face

          

Shît is about to hit the fan...

I would like to thank my Omertà fans for making this series so popular and supporting Fico and Sam! It'll definitely be worth it, believe me. ;)

NOTE: It would mean the world to me if you would support this story by voting, commenting, and sharing it with your friends! Thank you in advance! xx

* * *

Join the Omertà Facebook group! You seriously won't regret it. ;)

https://www.facebook.com/groups/1567899320090191/

* * *

  Humiliated, I sat in that laundry room a good ten minutes, barricading the door with my back and praying to God that I would wake up in my bed in my apartment and it'd all be just an awful dream.

After gathering whatever dignity I had left, I stuck my chin up high, pulled up my pool water-soaked shorts, took a deep, calm breath, opened the door, and fled out of that laundry room like the police were hot on my trail.

I raced through the kitchen, originally planning on going straight to my bedroom and hiding forever, when I discovered a group of mafia men heartedly laughing at a video of Fico and I from literally fifteen minutes before.

Tip toeing to the men; I watched the video over one of their burly shoulders. I watched myself charge at Fico on the phone screen, hit his hard stomach, slip, and then face planted onto the patio.

Unseen by the crowd of laughing testosterone, I poked at my swollen forehead and winced. That couldn't be good.

"Who is this chick?" one of the men asked around laughter.

"I don't know. God, I'd fück those tits so hard..."

"I heard she's some whøre who owes Fico money," another man said. "I wish she owed me money."

My fingers clenched into fists. Fire should have come out of my nostrils, I was so mad.

"That's IT!" I tore between the muscular men, dipping under arms and elbowing someone in the gut.

"It's her!" a man whisper-yelled, as if I was some myth.

Someone slapped my ass from behind. I kicked back like a donkey, nailing them right in the balls.

"Well, look at this." Another man, a little older than Fico, with a tattoo curving over his one eyebrow, grabbed my shoulder. "Looks like someone likes it rough, boys. Why don't we take her to the basement and give her a warm welcoming, on Fico's behalf?"

They nodded in agreement.

I smacked his meaty hand off of me. "Touch me again," I started slowly, grinding it out between my teeth, "and I'll fücking cut your dîck off in your sleep and wear it as a necklace!"

The men around me grew dead silent, and Tough Guy grew as pale as a sheet.

"Damn," a man muttered to my left. "She's crazy..."

"And almost scarier than Fico when he's angry," commented another.

"Get out of my way!" I tore through the rest of the men, snatching the phone away from the stranger holding it for all to see.

"Hey!" Phone Owner shouted. "That's a fückin' new phone, woman! Relax!"

I got up in Phone Owner's face, keeping his cell out of reach behind my back. "No, YOU relax, man! And I don't fückin' CARE!" I then smashed the phone over and over again against the kitchen counter, threw the device at the wall, turned, and glared at the men behind me. "Who said I was a whøre?!" I demanded. "Who said it?" I clapped my hands, ushering them to hurry. "Let's hear it, I have things to do!"