Chapter Fifty Willow
Chapter Fifty
Willow
“Dragna…” I say slowly.
It’s so quiet, like the calm before the storm.
I’m too afraid to look in the car window from where I dropped to cradling my knees on the pavement after hearing that sound.
It was definitely a gunshot. I’ve never heard a gun being fired before and I never want to again.
I should of just listened to him and got in the goddamn car when he asked me to! Why are you so stubborn Willow?
I look up from where I’ve been hiding behind my own forearms and see that Dragna’s car has come to a stop in the middle of the road. It’s eerily silent and I feel the most nauseating sensation creeping all over me.
“Dragna, please answer me.” I plead a little louder now but there’s still no response.
I lower my hands to the ground and push myself up to stand noticing there’s absolutely nobody around. Where did the gunshot come from? Who shot the gun and why isn’t Dragna answering me?
It’s so dark and I have to take a step closer to the car to peer into the open window Dragna and I were just arguing through and that’s when I see it, see him.
He’s hunched over to the right, the glass from his drivers side window is smashed through and there’s blood. So much blood everywhere.
I’m about to jump to pull the door open and scream for him to move, to look at me, to please be alive, when a car speeds from round a corner and stops right in front of Dragna’s car.
The tyres screech so loud I cover my ears with my hands while the headlights blind me so much I squeeze my eyes closed.
I hear doors opening and slamming shut and when I open my eyes again, I’m surrounded by men, all pointing guns at me.
I scream louder than I ever thought was possible while my brain begins to shut down and simultaneously go into overdrive at the same time. This was planned. They must of been following us.
“No please, please don’t do this. Don’t take me. Please, please, please!!” I scream as four men grab at me, digging their meaty fingers into my arms and legs.
One of them covers my mouth with his hand and all I can think about is how Dragna has been shot. There’s nobody here but us and he’s potentially going to die out here alone and I can’t even call for help.
I’m being carried away and man handled like a rag doll, about to lose hope, when I see him move.
With the headlights from the other car illuminating the inside of his, I can see through the tint slightly and I watch him as he struggles with the door handle and then watch as his body falls from the door and hits the ground.
I watch him open his eyes as he lays there helpless, bleeding and unmoving, witnessing me being carried away.
That’s when something in me stirs and I begin thrashing. I literally fight with everything I have in me and then some.
I kick my legs out and pull my arms back and fourth from the hands trying to hold me still as I fight for my life, as I fight for Dragna’s life, for the life I know now that I do want with him.
I scream his name for what might be the final chance I’ll get to hopefully get him to move or at least be able to call for help for himself.
“DRAGNA!!” I howl into the night right before a hand is slapped back over my mouth.
My legs and hands get tied together and then I’m thrown brutally into the trunk of a car. My head smashes off something hard and my eyes roll to the back of my head and Dragna’s beautiful face is the last image to flash as bright as fire behind my eyes as they close.
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“Wake the fuck up.”
“Oi you fucking whore, open your fucking eyes.”
“Piss on her again, maybe she’ll come around this time.”
I hear voices and laughter penetrating my skull as I begin opening my eyes in slow, hazy blinks. I feel my eyes rolling with each blink while being aware I’m somewhere I don’t know, with men I don’t know.
My legs and hands are still tied and I feel soaked. I can smell urine and all I can think about is what I heard as I started coming to.
They’ve peed on me, and I think I’ve also wet myself. I’m twenty two years old and at some point I’ve urinated on myself out of pure fear.
My blinks are stronger now and I can see clearer. I see bright dazzling lights that are causing an alarmingly quick headache every time I look at them.
“There she is.” Someone says from somewhere in the room. I can’t make out any faces but I see the figure who spoke push someone else towards me.
“Go make sure she’s still worth selling.”
Whoever’s been shoved in my direction begins walking towards me with slow and calculated steps.
When he reaches me I look down at the ground and he grabs my face, not hard, but with enough pressure so I can’t free myself from his hold.
He moves my hair from my face and taps my cheek with his other hand to get me to look at him.
“Open your eyes.”
I know that voice, I know that accent.
It takes me a few seconds to open my eyes, and when I do I find the guy from the club and from the restaurant, staring back at me. A man I now know is part of the Italian mafia and who possibly helped spike my drink that night.
Nero.