Chapter 20 #2
A hand brushes mine, and I jolt out of my thoughts, only to find Finn sitting in the chair closest to me.
His body angled toward mine instead of sitting facing the inner circle.
I frown at him and motion for him to turn around, which only makes his smirk deepen.
Before I can tell him where to shove his smirk, Prez strikes the gavel on the table, and once again, everyone is silent.
“Winnie, I think I speak for everyone when I say it's nice to see you, kid. But given the circumstances in which you were brought in, I don’t think that pleasantry is acceptable. We want to hear from you, what you’re willing to share.”
All eyes turn to me, and my cheeks flush pink from the attention.
My mind screams at me, not wanting to go down the rabbit hole of my memories.
They’re being nice and understanding now, but what will happen when I have to reveal exactly how I ended up permanently in Marco’s clutches? Or the fact that I couldn’t get free.
I can feel Finn’s eyes boring into me. I can sense the way his body is coiled, ready to reach out and touch me if I so much as falter through my words.
“It’s a daunting experience to be under someone’s scrutiny.
” The words slide from my lips, soft and slightly shaking.
The room hushes, and I fight to raise my eyes to the man in front of me.
The man I spent years being wary of, wanting him to be proud of me, of Finn, and of the support I offered him.
My lips feel chapped, and I’m not sure if it's from the drugs I was given or the nervousness in my stomach.
“We’re not here to judge you, Winnie,” Prez says in a voice that I would say sounds almost comforting. My eyes jump to him and I will them to stay there, completely blocking everyone else in the room out.
“As I said, it’s a daunting experience to be under someone’s scrutiny all day, every day.
There’s really no privacy or peace, and eventually you learn to live with having eyes on you.
Eventually, you blend in, sort of become like wallpaper in the room.
I was with Marco Bianchi for nine months.
Only one of those months was by choice. The rest of the time I was his prisoner. ”
“How did you meet him?” Prez asks softly, using a tone that reminds me of how my dad talked to me when I was little.
“I was working at a hospital in Atlanta. Marco was brought in with a severe head wound. You know how the mafia is; they wouldn’t have brought him unless it was dire.
He seized on the floor, and I was able to persuade Nico, ah his right-hand man, to let me start tending to him while we waited for a doctor.
At first, they didn’t want me to give him medical attention because I’m a woman, but when he started coding, Nico changed his mind.
I performed CPR until they could gurney him and bring him into the OR.
In a way, I helped save his life, but I didn’t see it that way.
The next day, I persuaded Nico to let his boss stay at the hospital and get the treatment he needed.
In hindsight, I should have let them go home.
” My voice trails off, lost in the memories.
I feel a strong hand, warm and capable, squeeze mine in encouragement.
“After that, I was told I would be the only nurse in his private wing. When he was ready to be discharged, I was summoned by the chief of the hospital and told that they had requested I do private home care for Marco until he fully recovered and his wound was healed. I wasn’t given a choice. ”
“How can they do that?” Jester asks, his voice thick with anger. Not at me, I realize, but at how I was treated by my employers.
My lips curl. “They were offered a huge chunk of money that was going to be used for a new wing and to buy a few new machines that were imperative to the PEDs unit.”
“Typical,” Squirrel grunts, before shaking his head.
“They made a safety plan for me. I was to check in with Brody, a friend of mine and a doctor I worked under frequently. Once when I arrived, mid-shift, and when I returned home. Things were fine at first. Typical. I was given directions on where to go in the house and areas to avoid. I was only to talk to Nico and Marco. None of the other soldiers were allowed to even breathe in my direction, which worked for me. I was nervous about being there. As the weeks went on and Marco started improving, he started trying to prolong my time with him. Stay for dinner. Come earlier for breakfast. He asked me to travel with him to New York when he had a meeting he had to attend. I kept my distance. I was a professional.” My mind reels over everything that happened.
How, maybe I should have seen what was happening.
I should have made Brody aware sooner that Marco’s advances were getting more forceful.
“The more I turned down time with him, I could see him getting frustrated, but I pushed it aside. My time was almost up. What happened was the perfect catalyst to ensure I couldn’t get away.”
I have to pause. Tears stream down my face, and the memories of that night rush back in. I remember being terrified. My inner morals wrestled with the need to save that boy’s life. While also knowing that if I hadn’t, there was a very real possibility I would have ended up dead anyway.
“Take your time.” Lyric pats my arm gently, her gaze encouraging, like she can see the storm I’m fighting.
Taking a deep breath in and then letting it out, I jump into the horrifying, gory details of what I was brought into.
The choice I had to make, and the gun that was trained on me, didn’t exactly allow me to refuse.
I can feel the tension in the room as I recount that night.
Every medical decision I made, knowing it went against the oath I took and the expectations of my employers when I signed on to work there.
My voice shudders when I get to the end and the words that Marco callously whispered to me, before ensuring I was never able to leave his side.
“So Marco has a child out of wedlock? I bet dear old dad doesn’t know that. Let alone his wife,” Bullet scoffs. A few of the guys agree with him.
“I don’t think so. It was very hush-hush.
And maybe that's why they didn’t bring him to the hospital.
I don’t know.” I shrug, contemplating how very few of his men looked surprised that night.
“After that, he acted as if he owned me. I never left the mansion again, and before I knew it, my phone was taken. I’m sure the hospital didn’t bat an eye and just accepted whatever lie Marco paid them off with.
I was at his beck and call, tended to his soldiers, lived with him, and was his personal doll to dress up and play with.
” I shudder, and once again Lyric squeezes my arm.
Everyone descends again into silence. Prez runs a hand down his face and exhales slowly.
“I speak for every member here when I tell you how sorry we are that this happened to you. The reason you were brought here is that the club has an alliance with the Bianchis. Marco’s father called me and gave me a heads-up that the Familia has been having issues within.
He needed Marco to be on his game, to help get out the rot that was infiltrating them.
Not only were they at war with the Cartel, but they were facing a coup.
His father asked if we could protect Marco’s asset so that he could focus.
We only learned after the fact that the asset was a woman. ”
“It was my intel that the asset was a woman. There was speculation on whether she was his mistress or if she was being held prisoner. I didn’t know it was you.
I should have guessed after our last phone call and then not hearing from you for months.
” Lyric lets out a shuddering breath. I reach forward and take her hand in mine.
“It’s not your fault,” I tell her, feeling helpless when her eyes fill with tears.
“I wanted to tell someone, but I never saw anyone outside of his household staff. No one who could help me, anyway. I’m not surprised the intel looked muddled.
I was a prisoner, and when I didn’t comply with what he wanted from me, he would use someone else’s life to ensure I participated.
It probably did look like I was his mistress to outside eyes.
I wanted to escape, but I couldn’t.” My voice breaks off, and I choke on a sob.
“This wasn’t the first time Marco drugged me.
The first time was when he placed trackers inside me. ”
Finn’s hand spasms in mine, flexing, before gripping me tightly. His hand crushes my fingers, but it keeps me grounded. It keeps those bad memories locked out.
“Fuck,” Prez swears, his voice loud and harsh. My heart warms a little toward the big man when I see the concern on his face. “Winnie, I need to know now so we can help you. Does any part of you want to return to Bianchi when he calls to collect you?”
My chest tightens, fear keeping me silent until all I can do is shake my head dismissively. Panic surges up at the same time that the room feels like it’s going to spin.
“No, I—”
“She isn’t fucking going with him,” Finn growls.
“If she wants to go back, we can’t stop her,” Prez interjects. Finn’s jaw hardens and clenches.
“She isn’t his.”
“I’m right here.” I stand, my legs wobble, but they hold me up.
My hand slips from Finn’s grip before my gaze moves around the table.
I look each of them in the eye. “I was a prisoner and forced to play a part to stay alive. Marco is attractive; he’s charming when it can benefit him, but he’s a monster. ”
I glance at Lyric. “I need to see a doctor, preferably an OB/GYN. I want a full blood work-up and STD screen. Then I need one of you, with the steadiest hands, to cut out the trackers. There’s one in my back that I can’t reach. I can cut out the other two on my own, though.”