Chapter 15
Gio
I spend most of the day watching Grace draw.
At first I didn’t know what she was doing when she moved the chalkboard. I figured she might try to write some kind of message with it and hold it up to a window, or maybe she would break it into pieces and use them for something.
But when she began to draw, I was transfixed.
I watch every movement of her body. It’s beautiful the way she draws in quick, short motions, shading and sketching. I’m not surprised that she can draw so beautifully. Everything she does is impressive, and this is just one more thing that makes me believe how special she is.
Initially, I have to wonder what she’s sketching. It doesn’t look like much, and I think maybe it’s just doodles until she begins to sketch landscapes of the outside world. I catch her staring at the walls, probably imagining what the world is like outside of her prison.
I smile to myself. Duke curls up at my feet, and I reach down to rub his head.
I hope I can let her outside one day, maybe even let her play fetch with Duke on my property.
I bet she’d love it out there, and I have so much land.
We could ride dirt bikes or horses, or go fishing if that was something she liked.
Or maybe she'd be more into picnics and wine.
I laugh to myself. I realize I'm daydreaming about taking her on a date on my property.
What a fool I’m becoming. Maybe I’m going soft for her.
I watch her draw for another hour. I’m completely happy and content just marveling at her body and her beauty when there’s a knock at my front door.
That jolts me back to reality. I remember my father saying that he’d be back today, and a nervous anger lodges itself in my gut.
“Stay,” I murmur to Duke before leaving the control room. I shut the door, then let my father inside. He struts into the kitchen as always, not even bothering to say hello.
The arrogant bastard is getting on my nerves.
He needs to show some respect.
I follow him. He sits down at the table this time.
“You’re back,” I say.
“Like I told you I would be.”
He seems angry and agitated, so I'll just get right to the point. “What’s going on? You mentioned some fucking meeting.”
“Yeah,” he grunts. “We got to give the Romanos something.”
“Well, give them what you have. Since you’re taking care of it.”
He glares at me. “I can’t get an angle, and you know it.”
“You can’t?” I act surprised.
“Don’t push me, boy,” he warns.
I clench my jaw. “Fine. What are you going to tell them?”
“Like I said, I can’t get to Toni. The fucking Rossis know there's a contract on him, I don’t know how.”
“Tell them that. We need more time.”
“I have another way.”
I cock my head at him, already not liking where this is going. “What is it?”
“Toni’s mother.”
I stare at him for a second. “The old woman? What about her?” I ask, but I already know the answer.
“If I kill her, that’ll draw that Rossi fuck out. It’ll set him off balance.”
I have to ball my hands into fists to keep from jamming my foot down his throat. He knows that I hate fucking with women, and especially hate killing them. Grace is bad enough, and I wish I didn’t have to put her through all of this. But I can’t abide another woman.
“No,” I say.
“No?” He laughs. “You act like there’s a better way.”
“Patience,” I say. “That’s the best way, and you know it. This mother bullshit is just that, bullshit. You don’t know what’ll happen once she’s dead, and that’s bad. We can’t plan for that.”
“It’s the best shot we have,” he says, standing up.
“Plus she’s old as fuck. What’s it matter?
” He looks pissed, but I don’t give a fuck.
I want him to come at me. It’ll give me an excuse to beat the piss out of him.
It’ll give me an excuse to hurt him for the way he fucked me up when I was a kid, leaving me with this deep darkness inside of me.
“There are lines that shouldn’t be crossed,” I say softly.
He grunts and finally looks down. “What about the girl?” he asks.
I shake my head. “I’m close. But not yet.”
“Let me see her.”
“No,” I say.
“Gio.” He steps closer to me, suddenly calm. “I need to give the Romanos something. Let me see the girl so that I can report back.”
I stare at him for a second and finally nod sharply. “Just through the monitors, and only this once.”
“Fine.”
I lead him down the hallway and into the control room. Duke growls at my father, but I dismiss him with a wave of my hand. Duke slowly leaves the room, and my father glares at me.
“That dog is an asshole,” he says.
“Duke just doesn’t like dickheads.” I nod at the monitors. “There she is.”
He comes and stands next to me, and we both look in on Grace.
I can’t help but smile proudly. She’s in her cage, still drawing on the chalkboard, a beautiful and detailed realistic-looking shell.
She looks totally absorbed and gorgeous, her face angelic and engaged in her task.
I love the way she draws and how content she looks, wrapped in only her scratchy blanket.
Watching her like that, an idea strikes me. I need to get her some art supplies. Brushes, oils, canvas, all that shit. She’ll love it. I smile huge. That’ll bring her out of the cage. She just needs to express herself.
“What the fuck is this shit?”
I snap out of it, back to reality. My father is leaning over the monitor, squinting at Grace.
“She’s in a cage,” I say.
“I fucking see that. I mean the drawing.”
“She’s drawing,” I say.
“How the fuck is that going to help break her?” he demands, standing and staring at me.
“Get out,” I say softly.
He opens his mouth to argue, but he must see that I’m holding back my rage. He silently leaves the room and goes back to the kitchen.
I stand there and let the anger pass. If he had done anything but leave, I was going to beat him to death.
I know it deep in my heart. I wouldn’t have been able to stop.
That stupid piece of shit probably thought I should be beating Grace to death, torturing my fucking princess until she did what I wanted her to do. That sick fucking freak.
Or maybe I’m the sick freak for doing what I’m doing. Maybe wanting to care for her while also making her mine is even worse.
I release a breath. No, I’m nothing like him and I never will be.
I follow him back out to the kitchen. He’s leaning against the counter, his arms crossed.
“She’s sick,” I say.
“How?”
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t let her die.” He stares at me.
“No shit,” I say. “I know that.”
“We need her more than ever. We need her to be the perfect sex slave at the end of this.”
The anger comes back full force, but I ignore it. “I understand.”
“No, you don’t.” He steps toward me. “This is all falling apart. At the very least, we need to give the Romanos this mob slut as a gift if we can’t get to Toni or if something goes wrong. If you can’t get information from her, at least make her into a useful gift.”
I grit my teeth. I don’t fucking like the way he’s talking.
I don’t like thinking about giving her back either.
Now’s not the time. I grunt at him, looking past him at the tray on the counter and nod.
“I understand,” I say, but the idea of Grace working as a sex slave for the Romanos makes my stomach turn.
There’s a short silence between us. Finally, my father shakes his head and sighs. “Let’s go,” he says.
“What?”
“You’re coming to this meeting with me.”
“I thought you wanted to deal with them exclusively.”
“I’m tired of being a fucking go-between, especially when you keep giving me bad news.”
I watch him for a second. I don’t want to go to this meeting and leave Grace alone. But I can’t trust him to speak for me at this meeting. If there’s something I can do to protect Grace, I need to go.
I have to trust her. I have no other choice.
“Fine,” I say. “Let’s go.”
We follow my father to the front door. Grace is going to be okay. She doesn’t want to disappoint me.
We drive in separate trucks to the meet. I don’t feel like having him come back to my place after it’s over, and he doesn’t seem to care either way. The less I talk to him at this point, the better.
The meeting with the Romanos is at a diner at the edge of town.
That doesn’t surprise me, since I doubt they’d want to bring some outsiders like us into their central compound.
I’m betting it annoys the fuck out of my father though.
I want to sneer at him and tell him, See?
See? This is how they treat us, and you’ll never be one of them.
That’s useless and childish, and won’t get me anywhere.
He won’t believe me. He’ll always be looking for an in.
I need to outthink my father. I can’t win this by sitting back and throwing insults at him.
I know I’ve been too busy with Grace to concentrate fully on the hit, but I can’t help myself.
Now I need to figure out a way to buy myself some more time and to stop my father from going through with his awful fucking plan.
Marco rises from his seat at a corner booth and stands with his shoulders squared as we approach.
The diner is full with locals and regulars, but it’s really showing its age.
The laminate table tops are beginning to peel, and the leather seats have holes and tears in them.
The floors look like they’re covered in a permanent layer of grime and grease.
I suspect that this place isn’t open because it does good business, but because it’s just another front for the Romanos.
“Welcome,” Marco says, shaking my father’s hand first and then mine. “I’m glad you two are here.” It’s a firm handshake, but it’s a mere formality.
“It’s good to see you, Marco,” my father says.
I nod at Marco, not wanting to debase myself by kissing his ass.
“Sit,” he says. My father slides into the booth, and I sit next to him. Marco leans toward us, his hand folded in front of him, that sleazy smile on his face. “So, my favorite men. How are things?”
“Good, as always,” my father replies.