Messina Crime Family Box set (Mafia Box Sets #2)

Chapter 1 – One Month Ago

ELSIE

ONE MONTH AGO

Some say the devil has no soul. But I think it’s humanity that doesn’t.

We do the sickest things to one another and find the dirtiest or most clever excuses. But in reality, we’re savages. All of us. Some more than others.

“Take it off,” Keith grits, a hand within his scruffy white beard.

I raise my chin up, clenching my teeth so hard it aches through my jaw. I won’t do it. They may think they own my skin, but they don’t own my heart. My mind. Those are mine, and I won’t let them inside either.

Let them hurt me. Fucking kill me. I don’t care. Death is an escape I will welcome. But somehow, I’m still here.

“Elsie, please,” Kayla whimpers, her body bare for the slimebag who works for Faro Bianchi, the one who stripped us of the dignity we once had.

We were taken together, along with our friend Jade. My God, every time I think of her, my heart physically hurts. I have no idea where she is.

It was supposed to be just a road trip, us three enjoying time together after finishing high school, wanting to have some fun before college—and then med school—took all our time.

We had plans to become doctors one day. My mom’s a plastic surgeon.

But me? I wanted to fix hearts. I wanted to see what made them stop.

What made them bleed. What made them work again.

I wanted to fix them, to make people live again—really live—and maybe when they came back, some of their humanity would too.

But, of course, I never became a heart surgeon. Neither of us got to become anything. Kayla’s dreams of one day helping people with cancer as an oncologist went up in flames right along with mine.

And Jade? She always wanted to work with kids.

Well, except when she wasn’t dreaming of playing in international concert halls.

She could play a piano like Picasso could paint.

But Jade was selfless. Her mother was a single mom raising two kids, and Jade wanted to have a job that would guarantee her a salary high enough that she could help her mother.

So much for that.

The Bianchis run the Palermo crime family, and we’ve been theirs for nine and a half years.

Brutal, torturous years. There are days where I’ve come to the point of wanting to slit my own throat.

It’d be less painful than everything they’ve done to us.

They’re sick. All the Bianchis are, but Faro, who’s the boss, and his brother Agnelo are the most ruthless of the four brothers.

They sell our bodies for money. Kids too.

Those monsters traffic women and children like cattle.

They own a members-only sex club, and the only way for a customer to get there is by calling a number on the back of a gold card and having someone pick them up.

They’re then brought blindfolded to the location.

And no one knows where it is. Not us. Not the men. No one.

Kayla and I have been taken there plenty. Some of the girls work there permanently, while others, like us, are only brought in when we’re needed. And none of us ever want to be needed.

We’re forced into rooms with men who take every bit of us—our skin, the flesh underneath—until we’re begging for it to end. We don’t have control. No way to escape. We have nothing. When we’re not working there, sometimes we’re chauffeured to fancy hotels.

And we know better than to talk to anyone there. The last girl who tried to get help was murdered. They showed us pictures of her body, head severed completely off. I threw up that day. It’s been two years, and I still can’t wipe the image of her eyes out of my head. They were brown.

“Bitch, you go deaf or something?”

Kayla gasps, her arms around her bare breasts, the thick eyeliner and mascara now running down her cheeks in a thick river. She never wore makeup before we were taken. She hated it. Now it’s the least of her worries.

He takes a single step forward, a hand whipping hard across my cheek, and my head twists roughly. But instead of crying or making a sound, I laugh—really laugh—and his anger…it’s beautiful.

“Is that all you’ve got?” My mouth curls at the corner, my long black hair flitting across the small of my back, almost touching my ass.

A leery grin slips to his wrinkled face before his palm lunges for my neck, tightening until I can no longer breathe, his strength forcing me off my feet inside the house where we’re kept with six other women.

Where we’re watched day and night, mainly by two men: Giuseppe and Vito.

They don’t care what’s done to us. They actually do worse.

No one cares. Not here. We’re indispensable. Treated as well as the rats that run across the grass in the late hours.

The house is in the worst neighborhood. Cops don’t even come here, because what’s the point? You’ll see drugs being sold on the corners. Probably by some gang who sells women too. Not here, though. Not on these blocks. This is Mafia territory, and the others know it.

My lungs burn as he squeezes, baring his teeth.

“You little whores don’t know how good you have it. But I’m gonna show you how much worse it can be.”

Kayla sobs, unable to catch her breath. “P-p-please le-let her g-go.”

But he ignores her. “Do you know what I can do to you without actually killing you?”

Because he knows he can’t, not unless it’s been sanctioned by the boss.

I fight the fear. I fight the onslaught of panic climbing like an inferno through my chest. I glare at him, fighting the only way I can.

Inside, I scream so loud the glass that keeps me prisoner shatters to tiny pieces all around me.

But on the outside, I have the armor up.

I’m ready for battle. The war never ends.

It never will. Not until that very last sword pierces my heart, granting me peace.

Death is the only way out. The devil won’t let me go any other way.

Keith drops me onto the floor and I heave, my chest rising and rising, the air hard to swallow.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Repeat.

The inside of my throat burns. The rotting of nausea swirls in my stomach, and I push through that too. I like fighting. It makes me feel strong, even while it’s all an illusion.

Kayla crawls to me, her body shielding me. But he picks her up by one thin arm and throws her to the side. She hits the wooden floor with a heavy thud.

A low groan of rage thunders out of me, and as I try to kick him for hurting my friend—my sweet, never-hurt-a-soul friend—he throws a punch into my stomach. Then another, and another, until I cough. Until the kick comes next.

I don’t know how many more times he hits me. I lose count. My head spins, lights flickering in and out of my eyes. Kayla screams for help, but it’s muddled like I’m underwater, barely hearing a thing.

“Sto…bleeding.”

“Yo, off…merchandise…”

“Fuck you!”

Voices. Too many now. I can see Vito and Giuseppe, images of them walking up flashing in and out. Someone whimpers. I think it’s me.

“Shhh,” Kayla says with a snivel, her hand stroking my head.

I can feel it. I’m not dead. Too bad.

But how can I leave her? How can I be so selfish? She can’t survive on her own. But maybe it’s better if she dies too.

We only have each other while the other girls keep to themselves. Everyone is afraid to talk to one another, afraid they’ll kill us for it.

And they would. If we talk to each other about anything that happens with the men, they kill us. There used to be twelve girls in the house. The others weren’t so lucky.

“Oh, Elsie,” Kayla cries. “I’m so sorry.”

I try to tell her she has nothing to be sorry for. I did it to myself. I knew exactly what would happen. But it’s who she’s always been. She’s one of those people who apologizes when someone else bumps into her. She doesn’t deserve this.

I barely recognize the girl she used to be. This woman before me is too broken, and I hate seeing her break even more with each passing year. Will we be here until we’re too old to use and abuse?

No, I won’t let that happen. I’ll end it on my own terms.

Jade was more like I was, and if I know anything about her, I know she’s out there fighting too. Yet, not knowing what happened to her—if she’s even still alive—it keeps me up at night. Is she better off than us? Worse?

Maybe it’d be better if she were with us. That way we could at least be together. But I can’t even ask these assholes where she is. I know Faro knows. He knows everything. But he’d kill me before he gives me the satisfaction of telling me something I want to know.

Kayla stays with me for seconds…minutes…I don’t know. But the next thing I hear is her screams, and when I look up, Keith has her in his clutches, Giuseppe and Vito no longer there.

He kneels, his foul breath rubbing up my nose. “I’m gonna fuck her so hard, you’re gonna see her bruises for weeks. You can thank yourself for that, whore.”

Then he’s yanking her by her brown hair, her knees hitting the floor as she screams my name until she disappears.

And her screams? I continue to hear them long after they’re gone. And I wish it was me instead.