Chapter eight

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"I want to be there at the party", I pout. Giovani has set me on the bed and stands before me. He gives me a strict glare that tells me to listen. But it's not fair, he kidnapped me and now he expects me to stay in his room all night. Okay, that does sounds like how a kidnapper should act. But a kidnapper should have put me in a cold basement, right? Well, who am I to complain. 

"Sorry darling, but there's going to be some dangerous people there. I don't want you around them and getting drunk, while you can't even walk properly", he says. Now it sounds even more exciting. I love an adventure. "W-what kind of dangerous people?", I ask him curious. Sighing he answers, "I can't tell you that, darling. Just listen and stay up here. I'm letting the door unlocked so that you won't feel trapped here". My face lights up. That means I can go downstairs without him knowing. While I gaze at the wall, I feel two fingers lift my chin up. I look an irritated Giovani in the eye, "the door will be unlocked, but if I see you downstairs for even one moment it's going to be locked again. Then I will chain you to the bed, so you won't do anything stupid again like last time". 

His black eyes now give me a sense of anger and something I can't place. Getting a bit scared by his threat, I start doubting whether to go downstairs or just stay here. "Understood?", he growls. Quickly nodding to his question I ask, "Marc said you were getting crutches for me, can I have them please?". "Of course. I also got you some lady toiletries, like tampons and stuff. I put them in the top drawer in the bathroom", he says while putting the crutches next to the bed. He got me tampons? Blushing I thank him, "o-oh, t-thank you". He sends me a smirk, "No problem, Tesoro. I'm going downstairs now. Remember, don't get out of the room. I will check up on you in a few hours". He sets a few steps forward and gives me a kiss on my forehead. "Okay, have fun", I tell him while he walks out of the room. 

I can hear already a few voices downstairs. The dilemma of going downstairs with the chance of being caught or staying here while being bored is still in my head. Maybe it's more sensible to wait how many people will come. It's going to be noticed by Giovani if I'm standing in the living room, while there are only like ten people there. I will just watch Netflix then.

I just finished an episode of Gilmore Girls, when Mark comes storming in. "Hey Sarah, do you want to come downstairs?", he asks with a mischievous look on his face. Hope arises in me, "Giovani said I could come?". He laughs, "No, the dick said you had to stay up here. But there are like fifty-plus people downstairs, so he won't notice". The voices downstairs tell me that there are indeed many people. "Are you sure he wouldn't notice me? I don't like the idea of being chained to the bed if he finds me", uncertainty is clear in my voice. "Sure you don't", he says mocking. 

The blush starts to come to my face again, "no, not like t-that. He said he would do that when he sees me d-downstairs". Marc laughs again, "Yeah, I think it's unrelated to you being downstairs. Now come on, we have some tequila shots waiting for us". O God, this can only end up with me being way too drunk to function. "Okay, okay. I'm coming", I say while getting my crutches. Putting my arms through the holes, I start walking behind Marc. I can't tell if he is drunk already or not. "Wait for me", I whisper. Walking with crutches isn't as easy as I thought it was. My hands are hurting already, and I haven't set more than a few steps yet. I groan inside my head. This is going to be really annoying. 

Marc turns around and starts walking to me. "And yet again, you're slower than a turtle", he smirks. How rude. Before I can process what he is doing, he grabs my crutches and picks me up in bridal style. "What are you doing?", I shriek. "Getting downstairs before Gio sees us walking here. You're not the fastest you know?" "Well, maybe if you guys didn't k-kidnap me I wouldn't be so s-slow", I hope he doesn't get mad for bringing that up. It's meant as a joke, although it's also a mere fact. "Sorry darling, but you were slow even without a broken ankle. Don't forget that we watched you for a while", he smiles. "H-how long did you watch me for?", I ask afraid of the answer. "Just a few months." 

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