6. Are you hurt?
1550 Words
Erica
I closed the door and waited to hear his footsteps fading away then only I made my way toward the bathroom. For some stupid reason my stomach was all fluttery and my fingers trembled slightly. With jerky hands I pulled my clothes off and got in the shower. It was the first time that I didn’t spend at least half an hour under the hot water sitting cross legged on the floor and counting numbers. And maybe it was the reason as I combed through my wet and tangled hair, that I gave in and pulled my drawer open to take out the pills I had gotten the other day. I had been tense before, and now with him showing up like that out of nowhere, my anxiety had gotten worse so I couldn't stop when an inner voice suggested that I need this crutch to get me through another day without breaking, especially in front of that beautiful, handsome, Italian mobster.
Another voice, slightly bitter, chirped back— I bet Ellison would never break down like that and neither would she do drugs.
Fuck. Who am I kidding, I knew from the beginning I wasn’t a good girl and it was the reason my dear daddy said that I deserved what happened to me. I popped the pill into my mouth and then chugged down the water from the tap. Coming out of the bathroom, my gaze fell on the boxes but I ignored them and made my way to my closet.
A smile stretched across my lips as I pulled out a black hoodie and black jeggings, I ended it by wearing pink flip flops with bunny ears. I smiled to myself, almost giddy to see his expression when he saw my outfit. He probably thought that I’d wear the clothes he sent me, the joke was on him. He would come to understand that I wasn’t like anyone he had met before. I don't do fancy s**t and I wasn’t going to make a fool of myself by being all over him. I grabbed my wallet and my cell phone before walking out of my apartment. Just as I turned the key and locked the door, someone grabbed me and threw me over a wide shoulder.
“What the f**k!” I yelled, hanging upside down.
“Apologies, Miss. But I got orders from the Capo.” The man from yesterday said.
I should probably ask his name, but right now I wasn’t in the mood for polite introductions. “You son of a b***h. f**k you and your boss, put me down now!” I grabbed his butt that was surprisingly firm and pinched him.
The only response I got was a slight tightening of his arm at the back of my thighs and another of him quickening his steps. He made his way down the stairs and I was grateful that I hadn't been already high or I’d have thrown all over him.
I knew what it was. The f*****g arsehole was establishing the fact that he always backed up his words and for it I was being carted down like a sack of potatoes because I wasn’t ready at eight like he had ordered. I seethed all the way to the ground floor and then I felt the cold air of the night as we stepped outside. A minute later I was put down on my feet. I turned to the man, the words on the tip of my mouth to give him a piece of my mind but before I could, he opened the car door and propelled me in.
As soon as I was inside my eyes fell on the man sitting opposite me and I ignored the tingles that spread through me as my eyes fell on him and his scent filtered into my lungs. I let loose the words that I was thinking all the way downstairs, swallowing my base desires. “You are ridiculous. You don’t have any right to order your man to throw me over his shoulder like I’m a piece of furniture. I made a f*****g mistake to accept your invitation. I’m not going anywhere with you.”
I reached for the door when his silken voice stopped me. “Are you hurt?” I frowned and looked back at him. He asked again, “Are you?”
“No.”
“Did he force you? Or did anything that should be inappropriate and made you uncomfortable?” I opened my mouth to tell him that being carried downstairs on the shoulder of a man I didn’t know should be explanation enough for his stupid questions when he added, “And do keep in mind that your answers will be responsible for him seeing the sun in the morning.” He said it so matter of factly and with utmost calm in that beautiful accent of his.
I clamped my mouth shut and gritted my teeth. I didn’t want to get the man who was just following his boss’ orders to get in trouble, no scratch that, to be shot dead because of me. Because I knew it without any doubt that the man sitting in front of me wouldn’t hesitate to kill his own man just to prove a point.
“Here. This will help.” He held out a square glass with brown liquid in it.
I took it and shot it down my throat. It burned deliciously and instantly I felt the warmth of expensive scotch settling deep in my stomach. Damn. I missed expensive stuff. Back at my brother-in-law's place, I was free to drink stuff like that but now I was down to cheap drinks and necessary substances I could get my hands on.
“So, tell me something about yourself, Erica?” He asked as he took my glass and poured another finger into it. “What else do you do except insulting men for dessert?” He poured himself a drink too.
I smirked at him as I sat back, absently noticing the luxurious interior of the car. “I make them crazy with my charm.”
He paused. His eyes roamed over my face and then travelled down my body. If he was averse to my clothing choice he didn’t show, instead his eyes left a hot trail behind and made me feel like I was in something slutty. And then his next words came as a surprise, “I want to apologize to you.”
“You do?” I questioned and looked down into my glass wondering if he mixed something else in the scotch or maybe this was drugs making me hear things.
“Yes.”
Well... I licked my lips then took another sip, this time a small one from my glass and said, “Go on, then. I am listening.” I waved my hand at him. “Start your apology.”
“What I said that day about you not needing dessert was uncalled for. You have a nice figure.” He said those words with a prominent pause on my said figure.
I spluttered on my drink and looked at him wide eyed. He frowned back at me. I asked, “Antonio...” I watched as his fingers tip tapped on his thigh. Two tips. One tap. Two tips. “Have you ever apologized to anyone before?”
“Yes.”
I had to ask. “How many times?”
There was a pause and then, “This is the third time.”
I digested his answer to pull apart when I will be back at my apartment and alone with his thoughts. How could he just apologise for only three times in his whole life? It was impossible. “And have you ever complimented anyone before?”
“I have.”
“Women?”
“What does it matter?” He looked genuinely confused.
“Answer the question, Antonio.”
There went his fingers. Two tips. One tap. Two tips. “Only the ones I think deserve them.”
Hmm. I bet Ellison was one of them. “Well... Maybe you should try it often. You are a little rustic. Or maybe it’s your age. How old are you?”
He tilted his head to the side a little and by God just for a second there he looked adorable. Damn, I must be already high. How could an arms dealer from Italy— mobster, be adorable? “We are here.”
“What?” I asked in confusion, my eyes on his lips.
“We reached our destination.”
Oh. I looked out the window and we were at... All you can eat buffet. I looked back at him and arched a brow. “Are you trying to make me fall in love with you, Antonio? Because your high handed arshole-ish behaviour aside, I think you’re onto something.” He coughed. I laughed. “Relax, I was joking.”
He adjusted his cufflinks and the diamonds winked in the light coming from the outside. He said, “Shall we?”
“We definitely should.” I replied and slid to the door to open it but before I could someone else opened it from the outside.
A. Gupta
- Writer
