The Mafia Hidden Heirloom

CHAPTER 8 - Yes, I am. I Am Blackmailing You.

JUNE THIRD

Yeah, that's the right place to go. He's probably scared of the dark; he won't follow.

Did you hear yourself? This is the man who was dicing off people's arms in an old abandoned building. Do you believe your thoughts to question his courage?

Well, I better think of any possibility because I wouldn't live another day if he got a hold of me. I've seen a lot more than he wants to. He knows I will tell Master.

Yes, Master. The boys have gone mad. I need to reach their father.

I need to find Grace, and she will call him for me. This was an emergency that needed an urgent call he offered to come at any time. All I need right now is to navigate my way to Grace, which only God can help me with. I am running barefooted in what seems to be a forest, getting cringe feelings from the rustling leaves and the distant hoots of birds, and Duncan and his men's calls punctuating the silence.

I can hear my breathing in my ears and my heartbeat in my chest. It is so dark that my eyes can't see. The moonlight is unable to filter through the gnarled trees' canopies, which cast eerie shadows in an otherworldly aura. But it will come as a surprise to me later, after I get out of this mess, how I am not freaked out.

Every crackle of twigs under my foot resonates like a distant echo, amplifying the sense of isolation and my uncertainty. The air is thick with the scent of damp earth and danger. And every time I hear him calling after me, I die a little bit.

This time it wasn't like when Colten was chasing after me; this time it was my soul struggling to leave my body at the thought of being caught by someone so much more vile.

If anyone should see him casually chopping off arms like they were coconuts, they'd understand the reason for my reaction. There was no empathy in his eyes, except for calmness... this certain evil kind of calm while he watches others suffer.

I have come to rule out with strong points that he was worse than his brother, worse than anyone.

"What in the name of craziness are you up to?" Duncan frustratedly accused.

His voice came from the direction of my back. I didn't spin around; after hearing him near, I picked up my pace, adding more strength to my speed and feeling numb about the thorns and prickly undergrowth under my foot, cutting and scratching my flesh. I just ran until there was nowhere to go.

There was so much water... it's likely a river. But it was the end of the road for me. I contemplated jumping, knowing it was the only option left. But I do not know how to swim, and even the sight of the river surface under the moonlight was suffocating to watch. In a picture, it's called "Pretty," the star above reflects upon the calm surface, but I was not in the mood to take it in. Maybe it's from the anxiety of knowing I am done for, or the astonishment of seeing it for the first time, standing here, half of my mind wonders what its depths hold, or perhaps both. I was afraid of both.

"June, what are you doing?"

Upon hearing his voice and his footsteps halting nearby, my body almost lost its balance from the alarm in my heart.

My eyes lifted in his direction, the moonlight here is better than back in the woods. Over the river, there weren't branches canopying it from the night glow, so I could see his figure and I can count the cautious men going around me, making sure it was a dead end for me. However, I can't clearly see, like I used to; I can't read his face, I can't tell if he's as calm as he was when he was hurting that man back there in the sanctuary.

"I am going to jump into this dark water, and I do not know how to swim. I will drown and die, and you will have to explain to Master how I died." I threatened, barely breathing from my racing heart.

"So you are blackmailing me with your well-being?" He chuckled.

He dares chuckled at this moment. I don't think I can do it. I swear if he gets a hold of me, he's definitely going to kill me and dump my body into this river.

"Yes. Yes, I am. I am blackmailing you with my well-being." I retorted, my voice shaking. I sniffed, making sure not to blink an eye and give him a chance to get to me. Instead cautiously, I keep shifting to the edge; no matter how my imaginations run wild about the mystery of the river, I would rather let it swallow me than get myself around Duncan's fingers.

"What do you want?" he sighed, open for negotiation and maybe a bargain. I heard it because he was near, and my heart couldn't take it.

"You—you will stay away from me..."

"Colten is going to get to you, June." He said it as a reminder, but it sounded more like a mockery, like stirring my memory of the bigger shark awaiting me, like he wasn't the entire crashing wave. You could hear it in the way he behaved and the calmness in his voice; he knew his force; he was something else, the wrath inside him was so powerful it could move the sharks, crash any rock, and reshape the entire shoreline. He was the silent danger that shouldn't erupt because no one knew the fuel reserved within him. That is the most destructive kind of harm that could ever happen: taking you by surprise all at once.

"I am not just June; I am June third. And at least Colten doesn't chop people's bodies with an axe." I rambled.

His mouth made a smacking sound. He seems amused, definitely, he would. He was armed against a helpless lost girl. "You are not my target, whereas you somehow happen to make yourself his. He has lookouts. You will be surprised by what he could really do to a lost kitten,"

Threats. He is throwing threats at me. Just great.

"The way you are talking to me. You condone this violent act of your brother so well that you are proud of it. I am never going to trust you. So just leave."

They're a rarity in my life that I'm only getting to know and not used to, but they're not giving me even a chance to settle into this new big change.

"You didn't hear me right. You can think of me as you want. You should never trust me. But at this moment, I am the only option you have. And I am kindly pleading with you to get away from there, save us the trouble of this long night, and let me take you back home. I have things to do, and apparently, my father wouldn't like the news of his fiancée getting drowned in the cold river at this time of the day or being hurt by his drunk son." He clarifies.

"Your father wouldn't like the news of you chasing after me in the Forest." I furiously retorted.

"Your father wouldn't like the news of you chasing after me in the Forest," I furiously retorted.

"It is not a forest. This is all part of the backyard. And I will clarify yet again, I am not chasing after you. It's you who is running away from me," he pointed out, sounding more like a know-it-all sort of collected man, who's discussing on a regular day than a complicated man who just took away someone's arm without flinching.

However, all I could think of was what his response even meant. "Doesn't that mean the same thing? If I am running, then you're chasing me since you're here, not giving me a chance to leave on my own?"

"It doesn't. It gives the impression that I am trying to rescue you, and you are stubbornly testing my patience, which I so dear have for you, and can endure all this for as long as your energy is preserved," he said arrogantly, leaning back against the giant tree and burying those hands he uses to disarm a gentleman into his pockets.

His defiance. Okay.

"I do not need your rescue," I spat equally defiantly, and he nodded, as though he acknowledged.

"Well, I am curious, then. Should I grant you your wish, how do you intend to navigate back to the estate on your own?"

"I will find a way?" I challengingly countered.

"How exactly?" He retorted. "It's clear you do not know the trances of the woods, it lures you into going in circles, and from the look of it, you are not a tracker nor a survivalist. You are just a frightened little girl who's scared of everyone."

"You stand there and talk like you know what I am capable of."

"Your legs are shaking," he pointed out, exhaling a small laugh. "What could you be capable of? Crying?"

Nonsense.

I looked down at my legs pretty swiftly and dragged back my eyes on him and his men to make sure they were in their spot and weren't making any stupid effort to cross the boundaries between us.

Everyone is right in place.

Okay, he may be right. My legs are shaking, which gives away the fact that I am scared and losing my mind. But still, I can be capable of a lot more than he thinks. I can—I can do something.

"They are shaking because I want them to," I lied, hopefully, he won't see the fear in my eyes. It's dark anyway to trace.

"Look, Jun... June Third," he politely corrected, pushing up against the tree. I jumped a little from the alert. But he wasn't coming for me; he just readjusted his stance and stayed over there as negotiated. "It's okay to be scared of me. You are human, and it's in our trait to be afraid of what we do not know and those who are strangers to us," he gently assured.

But I do not believe him. I've known strong people who are always unfazed; one of them is he himself.

"You are not scared of me despite you knowing me recently and finding out I am betrothed to your father. You are not scared of anything."

"It might seem so, but you can't tell everyone's internal struggle. I might be scared of you right now. Matter of fact, I am scared of you," he spoke seriously, but it was ridiculous.

He can go ahead and make a joke out of me, but I am not a fool. Someone like him can never be intimidated by someone like me.

"You are lying to trick me," I scoffed, running my fingers through my hair.

"But I am not. I am known to speak only what is true. I give you my words, I am afraid of you right now. You think I've ever had to follow a girl who threatens me of killing herself? And I must certainly have to protect her because it's my duty?"

He has to be just messing with me. You should see him; the kind of courage he has and the trust that lies in his physical appearance. He's making my safety his problem.

"How?"

"I am scared of what is going on in your head. I am scared of why you are threatening me with your life and why you just decided to exist in this timeline?" He pushed fingers through his hair and dug them back into his pockets.

"I do not have men with guns circling you. I am far from what you should worry about."

He brought out one hand from his pocket, "Stand back." Signaling at his men with a reluctant wave, they retreated from me, and somehow, it was like a pound of pressure was lifted from my load of burden. "Is that more convenient for you?" Duncan curiously asked in his spot, well put together, the polar opposite of what I looked and sounded.

He's so weird, but at least he's got his men to withdraw, so I got more space to run to, should I choose to do that.

"A bit." I truthfully answered, wiping away the immature tears in my eyes. "But it doesn't change the fact that you're worse than your brother. And that you can kill me to have your secrets buried with me," my hands were still shaking. There is nothing I can do.

"That's progress." He proudly said, satisfaction in his tone. "No need of burying you. I am sure we can work together," he added, sounding certain. When I was preoccupied with so much in my head.

"You did not deny being worse than Colten," I muttered, uneased.

There was a momentary pause; it was as if he was gathering his answer or trying to find the best way to say what lingers on his tongue.

"Because I am worse than him," he wears it with pride, as though it was a medal.

It's disgusting; I can't begin to think of the dark things he's done. His presence and the sight of him wielding the axe are enough for my brain at this point.

"So you will hurt me?" I probed since it's what it sounded like.

His replies don't often come immediately. It's like he has to think of them and taste them on his tongue before uttering them.

"I will take you back to your room."

It's cold out here, though. I looked around the river, slightly shivering. My skin is crawling with goosebumps, and I cross my arms over my chest, feeling my hardened n*****s under the skin material.

"Say I agree and let you guide me out of here and away from your brother, you will not come closer to me." I swallow, breathing shallowly.

His hand lifted in a surrendering motion. "Believe me, I won't dare to."

"You will stay twenty feet," I warned, anticipating his response to my deal.

"Fifteen." He shockingly bargained.

"TWENTY." There is no going back.

"Don't you think that's a little too—" He started, and I frantically interjected, "Then there is no deal."

"Fine. Twenty feet away." Duncan heaves at my defiance. And readjusts, standing straight. "But why so much distance?" He asked then.

I could run away from you before you can pounce on me. But I didn't say that.

After a moment of quiet, I say instead, "I do not trust you, remember?"

He took a couple of steps forward, letting the moonlight meet his face. I didn't withdraw, but I am aware of his moves. "Yes, that," He had a solemn expression when he nodded. He looks just... something weird.

Inhaling, I swallow, and remind him to step back, and I will count. With authority, he gestures for his men to do the same, and they move back into the woods.

Too much agreeable for a man this fierce.

We walked back into the house, from a different side of the compound, not having to come across Colten and his friends, and only bumping into a few black-dressed people who stopped Duncan for a serious conversation, and he had to ask me to give him a minute, and I'd lean against the walls, and waited throughout their indistinct discussion, observing how all of them take life very seriously. All the time Duncan seems edgy, and even flashes careful glances in my direction.

"He's been unreasonable to get to me. Call off the party and have him clean the house with his bare hands." Duncan told the men and proceeded towards me. I almost forgot the distance rules. And when I picked up ahead, the space between us was half of what I'd bargained for.

I have just gotten onto the second-floor hall from the stairs, the floor covered with white polished tiling, Duncan's men have stopped following us since the entrance of the house building, and then he noticed the blood trails I was leaving with each step, and he stopped, questioning from the middle of the stairs. "Your footsteps trail?"

I stopped too and spun to face his direction. "I can clean it. I will just have to find Grace first, so Colten will leave me alone."

"You are hurt?" his gaze narrowed.

"It's just a scratch. I will wash them. And put on some socks." I bit my lip and spun around, continuing down the hall.

His footsteps followed, maintaining the accurate distance we agreed on until I got to the door of the bedroom I had been staying in.

I turn the doorknob, opening the door partly, and Duncan stops by some paintings and a golden lounging chair. From the c***k of the open door, I knew Grace hadn't returned.

"I have a phone," I told him as an idea settled in my mind, and Duncan's brows raised.

"Wow, that's an achievement."

"Are you being sarcastic? Because I do not know how to use it, and I need to talk to Grace." I said, and his pupils dilated, surprise crossing his face.

"Do you lie?" He chooses to ask such an irrelevant question.

My brows furrowed. "Only when necessary." I confusedly answered.

"Is this the necessary time?" He probed.

I lean against the door frame, exhaling calmly. "Why?" My head shook at him dumbfounded.

He exhaled a smile, briefly looking to the other end of the hall, before bringing back his eyes to mine. And fairly, he has the best side profile I've ever seen. I will give him that.

"Wh–what person doesn't know how to operate a mobile phone?" He scoffed, lifting his chin a little.

He sounded so sure.

"But I don't," I mumbled, feeling the heat in my face.

He scoffed again, finding it hard to believe me. I wasn't lying.

"Don't mess with me."

"There's always a first for everyone. For me, there's a lot I have no idea about and will never because I will never have the freedom of myself."

Duncan was quiet from where he stood; he only kept his eyes, that was impossible to maintain staring at. Instead, my eyes remained steady on the silver doorknob.

"So will you use my phone to call her for me?" I pressed.

***

It is confusing how he appears in different hues. I saw him in green and red, in cloudy and in sun rays, in fire and ice, he was in March and in December. I can't yet put an understanding to it. He was clearly dangerous but he turned out to be the opposite of my fear. He didn't hurt me in any form that I can say and only did what I was comfortable with. He was solely a shade of green, and sunray and March around me, but to the man left without an arm in that old building, Duncan was the hue of red, cloudy, and December.

It makes no sense; it should be wrong, but I felt a bit safe being back in the loud house, knowing he wouldn't let anyone hurt me.

He walked into my room to my bed, while I raced to the end of the room and waited for him far against the wall for him to make the call.

And he did, leaving it ongoing on the bed before leaving to the door and asking me to turn the lock, which I did immediately as he left and stayed on the phone with Grace, while the whole time, he was who had the half and the quarter of my thoughts, and so I barely paid attention to what Grace was saying.

Another logic of Duncan appeared once again on that same day, adding to the whirlwind in my head of where he belonged, who he really is, and what he stands for. He did send a nurse to my doorstep to look after my foot.

Which I know was a caring gesture, far from something someone who wants to harm me will do. But deep down I knew he was a tormentor, a torturer. I've seen it with my eyes. It was all too much for my mind.

That night, despite all that I've experienced and the wounds on my foot, I find air in my lungs trying to put the pieces of him together for the longest night. His good and bad linger in my head like they were the DNA in my veins.

I had a chance to have a call with Master; Grace had let him know I needed to have a talk with him. I didn't leave behind anything that I've witnessed in the lengthy phone call, and all through the time, Master has been attentively quiet and humming. I can't put an expression to his disembodied responses, if not, I'd say he sounded angry.

When I am done spouting narrations of how Colten had naked people around the house, probably against their will, and had some bikers chasing after me under his command, and then Duncan disarming a man in that creepy place, and about the river, I do not know how to swim through, Master told me not to fret and assured me I am safe in my bedroom and even the entire house.

I wonder if he will talk to his sons on their phones. I was in the middle of that thought when I heard car engines revving to life, and doors opening, and with the phone in my ear, I sprinted to the window to check what was happening out there.

With a little excitement about having the freedom of looking out through the window, a luxury I didn't use to have back at my old home, I spotted vehicles that were open for Duncan and Colten to get in. And that speck of excitement was drained away in that instant.

Their eyes darted in the direction of my window, and as I looked over to them, our eyes locked, as though they were just there waiting for me to see the results of what I caused.

What did Master do?

My heart began beating fast at the anger in Colten's expression. I've never seen a human being this enraged. I looked away from him instantly, settling for Duncan, hoping for a sliver of ease. But there was nothing better with him. All those beliefs I had about him being different were erased. He was the close-off kind. You can't tell things about what he was thinking, and in my conclusion, that makes him worse than his seething brother.

I tensed.

"Uhmm... is there by any chance you've talked to Colten and Duncan about what happened?" I stammered, my heart pounding while my eyes were locked with his first son.

"They will stay at the penthouse and won't disturb you anymore. I am sorry, honey. You should feel safe, not anything less."

As he was voicing those words out, I had zoned out, thinking of the threat I had caused to myself. Things are only going to get worse now.

Immediately, I step back away from the front of the window, removing myself from the reach of the boys' eyes, only peeping from where I believe they can't see me, which is the side of the window. Over there, when they couldn't have a glimpse of me, they eventually gave up.

I caught Duncan getting into the rear of one of those same brand black vehicles that are usually parked in the driveway, and Colten got into the driver's side of a very shiny blue low vehicle, that the doors open oddly differently than the normal cars I've seen so far.

He first drove off, the roaring of his engine soul-racking, I jumped at it.

When I peep back to the driveway from hiding against the wall, Duncan's vehicle has taken off too, the small red light in the back of the car turning into a tiny fraction into the dark until it disappears from my sight.

All the time while I stand there by the window with my mouth agape, all I ask myself is what's coming for me?