Mafia's Baby

Chapter 2: Joycelyn

4 years later

“Somebody help us!” I scream through the bars for the millionth time. “Somebody, please help us!” A tear passed my eye, and I furiously wiped it away. Where the f**k are we?! Who are these people!?

“Why are we here?! What do you want with us!?” I was met with silence. Why would someone kidnap us? I start thinking of people I might have pissed off. One name came to my mind; Carter Young. I need to think of a way to get us out of here.

“Mommy?” I look at my daughter Annika. Her little body is trembling with silent sobs; she begins to hiccup. “Shh, it’s okay, baby,” She sniffles, and I sighed out deeply. If Randy is behind all of this, I will f*****g kill him!

How did we end up? Well...I had just gotten off of work, and I picked Annika up from school. She was telling me about a book her teacher was reading to them. Then she spoke about a painting she was doing; after that, she told me how she shared her lunch with one of her friends.

We washed our hands as she helped me get dinner started. I had baked the chicken early this morning, so now we only have the rice and vegetables to prepare to go alongside it. I remember taking Annika upstairs and bathing her. Then dressed her in her PJ’s, which consists of a shirt and underwear, just like me. But being that we were going to cook, we wore our pants.

When we came down, the rice and vegetables were done. I cut a piece of chicken for both of us and reheated it in the microwave. As we sat down, the sound of the door broken in startled us, and we screamed bloody murder.

Four men I’ve never seen before ran into the room, and I grabbed Annika in my arms. She cries out, wrapping herself tightly around me. I grab the frying pan, holding it out to the four men swinging it between them. In my mind, I challenge them to come at me. I was not going down without a fight.

One advance towards me, and I swing as hard I can and hit him with it. Once he was down, I ran for the back door, clutching Annika tightly in my arms. I was yanked back by the roots of my hair, and I screamed in pain. One man pulled Annika out of my hands, and I screamed.

“No! No!” I fought against two of the other men. I managed to elbow one of them in the nose. “Give me back my daughter! NO!” I screamed out. The guy I hit with the frying pan got up and punched me before slipping a black bag over my head. “No! Annika!” I kicked and screamed, trying to get free.

“Mommy!” “Annika!” I shouted to my daughter. It felt like forever before we were let out and carried off. They removed the bag from my head. I attack the man, breaking one of his fingers. His bodyguard sucker-punched me, making me fall. I got right back up, jumping on the bodyguard, demanding that he take me to my daughter. He pushed me off him, and I fell with a thud. Ignoring the pain in the back of my head, I got up, banging against the bars.

“Give me my f*****g daughter! Where is my daughter!” I tried shaking the steel bars of the jail cell. “Give me Annika!” I screamed with a growl.

Someone came marching in, looking annoyed and pissed off. Welcome to the club. “Shut the f**k up!” “Give me my daughter back!” I growled at him. He pulled me against the bars, hitting my head. I spat in his face. He slammed my head against the bars and let me fall with a thud again. I scramble to my feet, screaming at him.

He left and soon came back with Annika, pushing her inside of the cell I was in. I ran to her, hugging her tightly. “Are you okay, baby? Let me look at you. Did they hurt?” She answered all my questions with a head nod or a shake of her head.

Which brings us to the present with me, shouting for help. “Mommy, I’m hungry,” Annika sniffles, and I sighed out. “I know, baby. I know,” I rubbed her tummy, trying to ease her stomach pain.

Suddenly the door swings open, and four different men walk in again. They are bigger than the ones that broke into my home and the ones I fought off. I grab Annika again, tighter this time. The four men forcefully pull Annika away, but she wasn’t letting go, and neither was I. Her nails digging into my skin. When I was at arm’s length of her, they hit both Annika and me. Pissed off was an understatement.

“Don’t touch her!” I screamed, kicking the man in the balls that hit my daughter. One man punched me in the stomach tugging me by my head. I twist and turn, keeping my eyes on Annika. We were now in a room with a computer, flat-screen TV, and a chair a few feet away from it.

The man pushes me in the chair and ties me up.

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Happy Readings! xoxo