Indebted to the Mafia King

p*****t

Eleni

I blink awake and discover someone removed the bag from my head. I lay on a scratchy couch in what looks like someone’s wood-paneled basement, still wearing my sweatshirt and nightgown. A single lightbulb battles against the dark, but it barely reaches the walls. I suck in a breath, and the musty scent of underground combines with just a hint of the metallic stench I remember from the apartment.

The apartment. Where I left Baba dead. Mama isn’t here, so at least they haven’t caught her yet. Or they killed her too. Tears fill my eyes, and I lift a hand to swipe them away.

Both of my hands move, accompanied by the sharp bite of plastic. I look down. Someone zip-tied my wrists together. And my ankles.

I shriek. Maybe someone will hear me.

A door opens, and several people pound down the stairs. The first, the same massive man from the apartment, backhands me and stuffs a rag into my mouth.

“Shut up, b***h,” he spits.

The rag tastes sharp and acidic, like I imagine gasoline would. Pain cascades through my head. My tears overflow and run freely down my cheeks. The men who came down with the murderer laugh.

“She is a pretty thing,” one of them says. “With the gag, I can already picture her lips around my cock.”

The massive man stands. “I’ve got dibs, shithead. And I’m not gonna waste those on her f*****g mouth.”

“What the f**k are you gonna do, then, Leo?” the first man asks.

“With a sweet little treat like this?” He grins in a way that makes my skin crawl. “I think I’d f**k her t**s until I got good and close, then bust inside her. Always gotta be thinking about your legacy, boys.”

The cluster of monsters laugh. I can’t do anything but lay there and cry. If I thought the comments in the shop were bad, I had no idea.

The door at the top of the stairs opens again, and everyone falls silent. Slowly, Frank Lombardi makes his way into the basement and to the front of the pack. He puts out his hand, and one of them produces a folding chair from the dark edges of the room for him. Frank sets the chair down and sits. Then, he grabs the zip ties around my wrists and pulls me until I’m sitting up too.

“Don’t be afraid,” he says. “I’m not gonna kill you.”

That only makes me cry harder. I’d rather be dead. I’d rather see Baba and Christos again than undergo whatever torture Frank Lombardi has designed for me.

“That’s not gonna work, baby girl.” He wipes my tears away. “I’ve got a hard old heart, and you’re not someone who gets prettier when you cry. And anyway, there’s no reason to cry. I can be kind when I want to, right, boys?”

The monsters behind him nod.

“You’re here, Ellie, because I’ve decided to take matters into my own hands.” He pats my cheek too hard, more like a slap. “I’m giving you the life you deserve. My Luca’s on the hunt for a bride, and I think you’d be perfect.”

Nausea churns my stomach. Luca Lombardi again. Baba always thought Luca was the one who killed Christos. With Baba’s blood still sticky on my hands, I do too. The monster in my apartment shows that Frank Lombardi doesn’t do any of his own work, and Luca’s enough of a brute that he might’ve just snapped on Christos one day. I cannot marry him.

“It’s a good match.” Frank leans back. “I’d be honored, if I were you. Luca’s set to take this whole operation over when somebody finally puts me in the ground. You’d be a multimillionaire, living in the lap of luxury. And Luca’ll take good care of you. He likes pretty things.”

A couple of the men snicker. Frank whips around to glare at them, then turns back to me with a small smile.

“Ignore them. They’re apes. Luca may have displayed some…less than ideal tastes in the past, but with a wife like you….” Frank runs a finger along my cheek. “Well, I’m sure you’ll keep him in line. Won’t you, baby girl?”

I just stare at Frank. The gag bulges out my cheeks. I couldn’t say anything even if I wanted to.

“Fine.” He sighs. “Someone take the gag out. But just know screaming won’t help you.”

The massive man, Leo, steps up and pulls the rag out. I draw in a deep breath as they all look at me.

“I’d rather die than marry Luca.” I spit on Frank Lombardi.

Frank is on his feet faster than I can follow, and his hand cracks into my cheek, knocking me back onto my side. I scream in pain as he hits what must be a bruise left over from whatever they did to knock me unconscious. But Frank drags me up to sit again and pulls my knees apart.

“You’re too cute to waste on death just yet,” he hisses. “If you won’t have my son, fine. You can open your pretty little legs for my men instead.” He grabs a handful of my nightgown and starts dragging it up my thighs.

Something sparks in my chest. Maybe, if I can make him angry enough, he’ll just kill me. I twist and writhe in his grip, fighting for any kind of distance. He just laughs and holds on. But I don’t need distance. Both of my legs are tied together, making a perfect battering ram.

I throw myself back against the couch and bring my legs up to crush his genitals. Frank makes a low, pained sound and grabs me by the throat.

“You little slut.” He looks furious, angrier than I’ve ever seen anyone.

His grip on my throat tightens, and I barely suck a breath into my lungs. I can feel the bruises forming under his fingers. For a moment, I think the light is going out, but then I realize my vision is just dimming. The monsters around Frank laugh as unconsciousness reaches for me again.

I’m coming, Baba, I think. I’m coming, Christos.

***

When I open my eyes again, everything is dark. I can still feel the scratchy couch underneath me, the zip ties around my wrists and ankles. My nightgown is around my waist, but my panties are still on, like they only wanted to look. And they’ve put the bag over my head again, pressing into the ache where Frank Lombardi grabbed me.

I begin crying. This is my life now. I am going to live and die in a basement where awful men use me.

Something smashes upstairs. There are yells and the sharp takka-takka of gunfire. My heart races. Is someone killing Frank? Will they think to look down here?

If they find me, will they save me or take me for their own use?

After long moments of fighting, the basement door creaks open. My heart pounds in my throat. Someone walks down the stairs. I hear a sharp intake of breath.

They rip the bag off my head.