TRIGGER WARNINGS:
EXPLICIT LANGUAGE
SWEARING
VIOLENCE/GUN VIOLENCE
ALCOHOL
BLOOD/GORE/DEATH
"Are you going to let me go you shithead?" I growled. I pulled at the iron chains that restrained me, rubbing my wrists red raw. Fucking amateur. I don't even know who the fucker was or what he wanted. I bet it was Ace who pissed him off.
Fucking Ace.
I was absolutely shitting myself when the men broke into the house. I was unprepared and the guard's were all fucking stupid. If only I had KC with me, the fuckers would all be dead in a matter of minutes. Getting shot was the worst thing I've have ever experienced. I had to run and hide, there were too many of them to kill. Too many of them for me alone. Plus my gun ran out of bullets and I wouldn't be able to stab the fifty odd men. There were loads of them, like silent predators. They were hunting me so I hid. I knew Ace would come back soon. And when he did, I was so relieved. I could have crumbled into his hands there and then. But fuck, that bastard knocked him out.
I have never felt more vulnerable.
They dragged me, pulling me aggressively. All I could think about was Ace, if he was all right. He tried but he was outmanned and I couldn't do shit all. I failed him. I failed myself. I failed our baby.
I was knocked unconscious and awoke in a small room. It was cold, the chill seeped into my very bones. There was a small bed to the side and a toilet. Nothing I could use to escape. But I couldn't move. My leg was almost numb. The blood had stopped, there being a clot stopping it from killing me. I was so tired, but I forced myself awake. Well shit, seems I am not untouchable after all. I looked down at my legs, apart from the gun shot wound, there were bruises, in black and deep purples. So many, they covered my arms from being dragged around like a doll. I didn't want to be a doll.
"You crazy Bastard, I'm going to bleed out!" I yelled, my voice echoing off the solid walls. Thick. They were very thick steel walls. And the door, solid steel with one lock on the outside. Perhaps I could break the ceramic toilet seat. But whenever I tried to move, pain would shoot throughout me, almost making me lose consciousness.
I heard the door being unlocked and a large bearded man walked in, machine gun in hand. His fingers groped the trigger as if he was scared of me. Little old me, wounded and chained up, I almost laughed. He stared down at my leg wound and the small pool of blood underneath it. And then he stared at the bottom of my dress which I had tried to pull down. Fucking bitch, only Ace could look at me there. "Call your Boss, I want to talk to him." I demanded.
The man grimaced and walked out of the room, locking it shut after him. These ridiculous men don't talk at all. I've seen two of them so far. One that brought me a glass of water and this fucker. I wonder who has managed to kidnap me. They did a good job albeit the part where Ace came home, but even then, they caught me. I have to applaud the effort. I wanted to see the face of the man who caught me and I wanted to know who to kill. I'm sure Ace was looking for me, it's been hours. I wasn't sure, the room was enclosed. No window and no way to tell the time. I needed to buy some time, I needed to keep my mouth shut. A difficult task.
I was lost in and out of consciousness for a long while. They gave me nothing to eat. I awoke once with a blanket on my cold shivering body. I didn't care who came, I only pulled it closer. They didn't want me dead, not yet at least. There was a rattling noise, the door was opened and then closed behind the man who walked in. The tall, well built man wore a simple T-shirt and dark jeans. He walked in with authority, a cold dark presence, as if he sucked the air out of the room. The boss no doubt about it. My eyes felt heavy with each passing second and goosebumps dotted my skin.
The man smirked and sat on the bed. Fuck, he looks like trouble. "I'm Sánchez." He spoke, his voice smooth and cold. His hair was raven black and was tousled neatly. His eyes were a deep steely black. For he was the predator. His sharp face was neatly shaven, and when he spoke, the corner of his mouth lifted and revealed a hint of a dimple. There was something sinister about him, this was a man who wasn't afraid to die.
"Am I supposed to know that name?" I said hoarsely forgoing asking him if he was the boss.
He chuckled, a sound that sent shivers down my spine. He ran a hand through his hair, revealing his heavily tattooed arms. The two metal tags he wore around his neck swung gently with the motion. "No, but you will." He assured. I narrowed my eyes at him. "And you have me here because.."
"Because Ace Hernandez killed my brother." He said, his eyes darkening. Fuck. I knew it was fucking Ace. "Well shit, he probably deserved it." I shook my head unable to control what came out of my mouth. Sánchez breathed sharply and walked over to me. He knelt down and grabbed my face roughly. I couldn't protest for my wrists were still bound."You're just as bad." He growled lowly. I twisted my face free from his grip. He stood up and pressed his boot onto my wound. Slowly. Painfully.
"Fuck you bitch!" I gritted, throwing my head back. The pain was unbearable. He pushed his boot deeper into my leg and I flinched, pulling at the chains. He chuckled darkly. "I think I might keep you a while. We'll have some fun."
Fuck you bitch.
I grunted when he finally removed his boot from my wound. It was bleeding immensely again, a thick pool was now forming. I could feel myself getting drowsy. "You picked the wrong woman. I will fucking kill you." I panted, my breaths uneven and shallow.
He chuckled deeply. He was fucking insane. "What do I have to do for you to let me go?" I asked through tear stained eyes. I can't cry. Not yet. He crossed his arms as he looked down at me. "You are the right woman. To hurt him, I'll hurt you." He smiled, licking his lips. Oh fuck. I am his weakness. I needed to get out of here.
I pressed my hands down onto my wound in attempts to slow down the bleeding. I whimpered in pain as my own blood soaked my hands. He squatted down beside me and looked at me silently. "What the fuck are you staring at?" I growled. Fucking bitch.
"I'm just thinking about all the fun we could have. Shall I start by cutting off your hair?" He grinned manically while twirling a strand of my hair around his finger. "I wanted to cut it anyway." I mustered up a smirk as I stared at him. He chuckled at that and then dropped my hair. "Ah then perhaps..perhaps I would like to know what the Italian mafia Don feels like. I bet you're tight." He grinned once more, his dimple showing.
"You'll never know you sick fuck. Do you know how many men I've killed who said those same words? And I'm going kill you too." I growled. I could feel myself getting weaker by the minute. He chuckled once more. "I must say, I like you. You don't pretend to be innocent like most criminals. That is what you are after all. Nothing but a lowly criminal living a pitiful life at the misery of others. It's a shame you married that man because maybe, you could have been mine."
He stood up and answered a phone call, turning away from me. Fuck. I'm running out of options. Come on, I'm Alessia fucking Ferrari. This isn't how my story ends. Sánchez ended the pathetic drivel of a call and faced me once more. He didn't say another word, instead he tore the blanket off my body and tossed it out of my reach. He walked out and locked the door behind him. My teeth started to chatter and I felt my body giving in. I can't. I can't. I want to live. I want to see Ace. There's so much I want to do. I tugged my chains once more. They were so tight around my wrists. Fuck, I'm going to have to do it. I pushed the handcuff down as far as it could go and with tears in my eyes, I dislocated my thumb. I held in the agony I felt and clenched my teeth.
I pulled my hand free and breathed out deeply. Before I could relax, I had dislocated my other thumb and pulled that hand free. I held in a scream and when I couldn't, I cried. The guards didn't check on me. Maybe they thought it was funny to hear me crying. After a few minutes, I calmed myself enough to pop my thumbs back into place. It also hurt like a bitch. My wet bloody hands went against the floor, trying to push myself up. But I couldn't move. My leg, fuck, why was I so weak? I shuffled until I could grab the blanket. I carefully undid Ace's shirt which was still wrapped around my leg. It was soaked with my blood. I tossed it aside, and tore the blanket, wrapping a part of it around my leg wound. I pulled it tight, flinching when it pressed into my flesh. I rubbed my hands cleans and my face.
With raw determination, I tried to pull myself up by grabbing onto the bed. The door opened again and I grunted as my body fell the couple of inches I had managed to rise. I fell against the floor, staring up at the ceiling. I was fucking exhausted. The same bearded guard appeared, still holding his gun and that ugly scowl on his face. If he wanted to, he could force himself on me and I couldn't do anything to stop him. "Some water please." I coughed.
He locked the door and left. "Bitch." I muttered. A while later, he came back with a glass of water. He didn't have his gun, shit. I smiled innocently as he approached me with the glass. I had now pulled myself up against the wall. He didn't even notice that I was free from the chains, or maybe he didn't care. He must think I'm weak. As he neared me, I knocked the glass from his hand and the water splashed over his face. I lunged forward, grabbing his neck and pulled him to the floor. He was momentarily stunned. He tried to punch and claw at me but I had him good. I pulled the chain I had concealed behind me, tight against his neck. I pulled it tighter when he grabbed and pulled my hair. "Fucking die." I growled as I pulled the chain with all my strength. After a few minutes, he stopped moving and I pushed him off.
Sweat beaded my forehead, my hands shook and no matter how hard I tried, I still couldn't stand up. Well shit. I didn't think this through. I couldn't even stand. Useless.
A few minutes passed and I heard footsteps enter the room. My eyes were closed, I was cold, so tired. Through the darkness I heard a voice. A bone chilling voice. "I'm impressed. But I can't have you killing my men." Sánchez spoke.
Two arms grabbed me and hauled me up. I felt sick from the jolted action. "Look at me." He growled. I slowly opened my eyes and looked at him with disgust. "Go fuck yourself." I spat at his face. He rubbed his face and clenched his jaws in anger.
"Bring her." He ordered. I was roughly pulled, my feet dragging on the floor. Shit. Maybe I shouldn't have spat at the sensitive fucker. I groaned in pain as I was roughly pushed onto a chair in the middle of another room, this one being larger. I panted and coughed as Sánchez watched me from afar. His eyes glistened with evil intentions, I should know for I have those very same intentions.
The two men that grabbed me, tied my hands to the chair. Fuck, I couldn't resist them. I wanted to rip their fucking heads off and stick them up Sánchez' ass. He smirked and nodded to his men. "I don't like getting my hands dirty. I just want to rough you up a bit. I'm sure Hernandez would appreciate that."
One of the men approached me and turned on a blowtorch. Fuck! My breathing quickened. He put the blue flame closer to my bare arm. "Fuck you, you fucking bitch. You're fucking dead!" I yelled in agony. The heat seared my skin, burning it. My hair was matted with sweat, my arm throbbed in immense pain. The guard was poised to burn my other arm. Fuck, I can't take it anymore.
"Stop." Sánchez raised his hand. He raised his brow and smirked. "Hernandez has agreed to meet tonight. Release her."
The men pulled off the restraints and yanked me upright, I fell to the ground instantly. I couldn't help it and vomited on the floor. I coughed and spat out in pain. As I crouched on the floor, the lowest point in my life, Sánchez gloated. "Beg me to let you go and I will."
I chuckled hoarsely and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. I met his eyes. "Never." I saw his eyes darken and fill with uncontrolled rage. He wasn't awfully good at hiding his emotions. "Can I at least have some food?" I asked.
The men roughly pulled me up again. One of them touched my burnt arm which fucking hurt like a bitch. I hissed in pain. "Put her back." Sánchez ordered.
I was again left alone in that small room, this time not chained up. I felt sick and dizzy. My emotions wanted to overwhelm me but I wasn't safe to allow myself to cry anymore. The door creaked open and I began to panic. No no. Not him. He can't touch me. I won't let him. I gulped when I saw an older man enter instead. My heart was still racing. The man seemed kind, out of place. He carried a brown briefcase. A doctor, why would he send a doctor?
The door was locked behind him. "I'm here to stitch up your leg." He said calmly as he walked towards me. I was slumped against the wall and held my blistered arm in my lap. I allowed him to sit beside me on the floor. He looked at my arm and frowned. "I can wrap your arm too." He spoke softly.
I had no energy left to speak so he lifted the end of my dress above my wound. I'm certain the bullet was still embedded in my thigh. He carefully removed the bloodied blanket which was tied around my leg. He patted my skin with a clean towel and tilted his head. "I'll have to remove the bullet."
I nodded slowly. He pulled out a small bottle of vodka from his bag and dampened a cloth with it. "Here drink this, it'll help with the pain." He held the bottle towards me. I coughed and shook my head. "No it's fine." My baby. Was..no I can't think like that.
He frowned and proceeded to clean my wound. Every touch was painful as the alcohol seeped into my flesh. After he was done he pulled out some forceps. "Are you sure?" He asked again. I appreciated the kindness I received. "Go ahead." I whispered.
I closed my eyes and clenched my jaws tightly as he pulled out the bullet. "Fuck!" I growled. I watched as thick hot blood dribbled down the side of my leg. Shit shit. And now for the hard part. He grabbed a needle and thread and again asked me if I was okay. "Just fucking do it." I whimpered close to tears.
The first suture was the most painful, after a while I couldn't feel anything. I was numb. I looked down at my neatly stitched up wound. I guess Sánchez doesn't want me dying just yet. He wants to fucking mess with Ace. I will not give him the satisfaction.
"Thank you." I muttered to the doctor. He smiled gently as he held my arm. "I'll just bandage this." He said. I nodded. "What does he plan to do with me?" I asked him.
"I don't know." He said as he continued wrapping my arm. When he was done, he collected his bag and stood up. "Don't underestimate him. He has eyes everywhere." He left the room and I was left to my own thoughts once more.
The next thing I knew, I was being pulled up roughly. I woke up groggily, my eyes blinked slowly. I heard voices but I couldn't make out anything. I was dragged all the way outside, the cold touched my skin and the darkness invited me.
I was thrown into a cold van. My body slammed against the metal floor. I wasn't able to move from my position or even raise my head. I coughed and closed my eyes.
It'll be okay.
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Alessia may be a badass bitch but even she has her limits...But can Ace save her?
This is a piece of wisdom from me. Eventually you get to an age where you don't chase people, where you don't run after people who don't care about you the same way you care about them. People come and go so don't be afraid of letting them go because you will meet new people, better people.