Chapter 32 – Delphine
Chapter Thirty-Two
Delphine
L uigi has to know I’m gone by now. My kidnappers couldn’t have made it that far, nor could they have had that much of a head start.
Piecing together the limited context clues available to me, I think the men who kidnapped me are related to Luigi, or possibly the rival family out in Pittsburgh.
There were two men the night I was kidnapped from the nightclub, not more. That fits this situation perfectly.
Those men didn’t speak Italian, but I can’t imagine how many pairs of Italian kidnappers there could possibly be running around America.
Probably a lot, girl…
I’m in a locked bedroom that I immediately search ceiling to floor the same way I did with the lake house.
There are many similar features, including a loose floorboard – a feature I eventually discovered at Luigi’s place.
There’s nothing in the compartment beneath the loose floorboard, but I find the similarities compelling.
My theory might be correct. These men have some mob affiliations.
The only ‘exit’ I can spot aside from the sealed metal door is a little cat door like what you would expect to see in a movie about solitary confinement.
I couldn’t fit my whole leg through that hole on my best day, so it really might only be an escape route after a couple years of starvation.
Not the best plan. And the baby’s plan includes sending an exhausting surge of hormones through me so powerful that I almost curl up and fall asleep on the floor instead of walking the extra five steps back to the bed.
I should be banging on the walls, but my body urges me to wait for rescue, like I’m some princess in a tower and not a black woman stuck in hell, left to survive on her own again.
The only insight I have is the scent of the harbor coming through a crack in the window with the view obscured by burglar bars.
But how does that help me? I’m near the harbor.
So what? I guess I feel a little better knowing that I’m still in Buffalo, which means I’m close enough for Luigi to come find me.
If he won’t come for me, he’ll at least come for our baby.
But at this point, I know that he’ll come for both of us.
Unless… and I hope this wouldn’t be the case.
Unless he thinks I ran away on purpose. I hope he doesn’t think something as foolish as that, but if he did, I would blame myself for pushing him away.
I fall asleep on the prison bed for a few hours, waking up to the sound of the cat door opening and a hand shoving a plate full of food through the door.
I feel immediate guilt at the surge of desire in my stomach after one look at the homemade lasagna that just arrived on the floor of my bedroom.
There’s a glass of water too, which I gulp down within seconds.
I hope I don’t have to pee any time soon, but I can’t stop myself from chugging down the water.
Even knowing that the lasagna could contain harmful drugs or other mysterious ingredients, considering I don’t know my kidnappers, the smell is so damned delicious that I know the baby would understand why I gave in to the temptation.
It’s hot too, so I know I had better tuck in before it gets cold. Yum.
I greedily eat the lasagna, only tangentially aware of the fact that I’ve been in this room for several hours, possibly well into the night.
I’m grateful for the food and even more grateful that nothing insanely violent has happened since I’ve come here.
I’m fine, the baby is fine. I can’t control more than that, so I eat and listen for any possible clues about my captors or location aside from the harbor smell.
After a few more hours of boredom listening to the faint footsteps downstairs, I get the crazy idea to turn the glass upside down, lift the floor panel and try listening in to the conversation downstairs.
It doesn’t work in the traditional sense, but I can hear the faint voices a little more clearer.
Enough to make out details of their conversation that seemed muffled before.
There are two men down there, but their voices sound so much alike that I can hardly tell them apart.
I have to quiet every anxious thought in my head as well as my stressed out breathing to hear what the hell they’re saying.
There’s a flurry of activity which attracted me to the floor in the first place and then a new voice that’s much louder and more Appalachian-sounding and country than the other two, who sound like they’re from native Buffalo.
Doesn’t really matter what the hell their accents might be, because their conversation contents sound like my ass is in more serious danger.
“Do you have her upstairs?” Pittsburgh says.
“We need half the money first,” one of the Buffalo guys says.
“Here’s the duffel bag. Have your clone count it.”
Clone? Are they twins? I don’t think the first pair of kidnappers were twins and if they were, I wouldn’t have called them clones.
I didn’t see the faces of these kidnappers, which either means they learned from their previous experiences, or maybe these particular men are better trained at this type of work.
The second Buffalo guy (I assume) speaks up and says, “Holy shit. It’s Nicky.”
“What the hell is Nicky doing here?”
“Who the fuck is Nicky?” the Pittsburgh guy says.
I have a similar question, but I search my memories from my nights out with Luigi and I am almost 100% certain that Nicky is his youngest sister, Nicoletta.
She’s twenty-three, goes by Nicky for short, and she doesn’t interact much with Luigi outside of the occasional night out.
There might be another Nicky, but if this is the Nicky they’re referring to, could it be possible that Luigi’s cousins or his brothers are the ones who kidnapped me?
Maybe the twins that just came back from Sicily?
I don’t think I’ve ever been in the same room as them before, although I heard a lot about their pending return.
Great. I have a theory about my kidnappers and suspicions of their plans to sell me, but I don’t see how the hell this information helps me.
“Nicky, what the fuck are you doing here?” I can’t tell which of the Buffalo guys says this.
“You fucking idiots have Luigi’s girl here and if you don’t sort your shit out, he’ll be down here in the next half hour.”
“How did you know where we were?” The Buffalo guy asks. “Who else knows we’re down here?”
“Are you fucking stupid? Luigi knows. I was at the club when he called Peter and I knew once I heard what was going on only one pair of twins could be so fucking stupid as to kidnap Luigi’s pregnant girlfriend.”
“This isn’t women’s business, Nicky.”
“Who the fuck is that guy?” Nicky asks. I’m beginning to like her and to see the similarities between her and Angela.
Where the hell IS Angela right now? I entertained the notion for a split second that this might have been a part of her plan, but there’s no evidence at all of Angela’s involvement in this, which feels good despite the sketchy details of her sudden departure.
“He’s the buyer,” one of the Buffalo guys says. “And we’re going to solve a big fucking problem for our family.”
“You are so fucking stupid. I’m getting out of here.”
“Where do you think you’re going?” the Pittsburgh guy chimes in.
Judging by what I’ve seen from the mobsters around here, he probably doesn’t appreciate Nicky’s tone.
I want to start pounding on the floor and begging for Nicky to come let me out but if I’m to believe her message, Luigi is on the way.
“Riccardi’s funeral parlor so I can plan for what’s gonna happen to you when Luigi kicks your ass.”
“You’re out of your fucking mind, Nicky.”
“Let her go and beg Luigi for forgiveness. Of course dad was pissed off about her race, but you can’t kill someone in our own family. It doesn’t matter their skin color.”
Their talking moves into the other room and I hate that I feel robbed, especially because none of their conversation has given me much information about what I can expect once Luigi gets me out of this room alive.
They won’t kill me and Luigi’s on his way. I just have to pray this “sale” doesn’t go through…