Chapter 6
Francesca
Bang.
Bang.
Bang.
I whimpered and rolled over. I'd barely gotten home and now someone was banging on the door downstairs.
My body physically hurt. I hadn't experienced this level of fatigue in—ever.
I just lay there waiting for someone else to go answer the door.
When I came home from work, dad and a few of his cronies were still in the kitchen playing poker and drinking.
More likely than not, there was probably a straggler or two hanging around down there.
Boom.
Boom.
Boom.
“Ugh,” I said as I covered my head with the blanket.
“Someone answer that!” I finally yelled out into the void.
I mean, it wasn't like anyone was banging on the door for me.
I didn't have any friends and certainly no boyfriend.
Anyone at the door at this time of night would only be there for my father or my sister.
More banging.
More booming.
I needed this to stop. My father was probably passed out in his chair, too drunk to answer the door.
Begrudgingly, and against every fiber of my being, I pushed out of bed and stood. My feet protested by sending sharp shooting pains through my legs. My back reminded me how many boxes I lifted during my last twelve hour shift. And my arms were so tired I could barely lift them.
I’d picked up another job. This one was moving much heavier boxes in and out of a large warehouse. Needless to say—it really sucked. My body had never hurt this much.
I walked to my door and opened it, stepping out into the hallway. The lights from downstairs shone up, illuminating everything like it was the middle of the day and not the middle of the night.
“Can't you guys answer the stupid door?” I called down the stairs but got absolutely zero answer.
I huffed to myself and walked achingly down the stairs. One foot at a time.
More banging.
More booming.
The entire house shook from the force of the knocking.
“Hold your freaking horses!” I yelled at the door as my hand landed on the doorknob. I pulled it open, expecting to see one of dad's dumb, drunk, high friends.
Instead—I saw an older man. Maybe mid-fifties or sixties. Hair mostly gray. But that wasn't the surprising part. What shocked me the most about this guy was how he was dressed. And the fact he'd obviously showered in the last twenty-four hours.
And it was a known fact that my dad’s friends would not have.
The man's cologne wafted through the door and up my nose. My eyes actually started to water from his scent. “Can I help you?” I asked, assuming he had arrived at the wrong house. His clothes were expensive. Even I could tell that.
Yeah, definitely not one of dad’s friends.
The man's eyes widened, and he took a step back.
He dragged his gaze up and down my body several times, giving me the ick.
“Well, well.” His eyebrows rose. “Wow. Who do we have here?” His voice was smarmy, to say the least. Not to mention the fact that I suddenly felt the need to go bathe in bleach.
“Is there something that I can help you with? I'm pretty sure you have the wrong house. But if you give me a name, I can probably point you in the right direction.”
The man smiled while his eyes focused in on my chest. I looked down and realized I was wearing a thin tank top. No bra. And short shorts.
I hadn't exactly been planning on company.
The man's eyes finally lifted to mine. “Oh, I’m quite happy where I am. Thank you.” His greasy grin made me queasy.
Yuck.
“All right then,” I said and began closing the door. “Have a good night. And stop pounding my damn door down.”
I had almost successfully closed the door when something got in its way. I looked down to see a shiny black shoe. Who did this guy think he was? I immediately stepped on his shoe and tried to push it out of the way. Unfortunately, it didn't work.
The man started laughing. “We're just getting to know each other, baby.”
Double yuck.
His words creeped me right the heck out.
I swung the door open and glared at him. “What's your problem? Who are you looking for? Because it sure isn't me. I can tell you that.”
Before I knew it, his hand was on the door, and he was stepping into my house. I moved back to get out of his way. “Oh, I disagree. I think I've been looking for someone exactly like you. What's your name, beautiful?”
A weak voice behind me answered. “She's my daughter, Francesca.” I turned to see my dad leaning heavily against the wall. His voice quivered in an almost unnatural way.
“Darren, you've been holding out on me,” the smarmy, greasy man said. His eyes flew back to me, and he stared at my chest.
So gross.
“Had I known what you've been hiding from me, I would have come for a visit sooner,” he sneered and then turned to my dad. “I think we can come up with a deal after all.” He tilted his head in my direction. “Now that I've seen your hand.”
My dad's face grew slack, and he blinked. Then he shook his head. “No, no. Aldo, you don't understand. Francesca's not like that. She's—uh, you know.” My dad lowered his voice to a whisper. “Innocent.”
The greasy, smarmy man's eyebrows lifted, and he looked at me again. “You've gotta be fuckin' kidding me?” And then he accosted me with his stare.
“What's your problem? Haven't you ever seen a woman before?” I asked and pushed the door shut. I wasn't going to stick around here any longer. This guy was seriously weirding me out.
“Not like you. No.” He smirked at me, and I wanted to vomit. Gosh, this guy was disgusting.
I sighed before I rolled my eyes and headed for the stairs. There was no sense in standing around here any longer. I had a shift to get up for in a few hours. I'd wasted enough time on these idiots. I grabbed on to the banister and was about to take one step up when I was halted.
“Hey, hey, hey,” the gross man said. “Stick around, baby. The party's just getting started.”
His hand sliced down in front of me, and he took hold of my arm. I immediately backed away. His arm was touching my ill-covered breasts. And that was not okay. Not in the least.
But instead of getting away from him, he only pulled me back to his chest. Both of his arms wrapped around me. The more I struggled, the tighter he held me. “Let me go, you pig!” I spat out, trying to push his arms away.
“Not yet, baby. I'm not done talking to your father. Hold still while we make a deal.” His lips touched the crook of my neck and kissed me.
My blood suddenly ran cold as I instantly froze.
“Mm, you smell good. I wonder if you taste as good as you smell? I would love to be the first man to find out.” He licked my neck and chuckled a deep, vicious, evil laugh.
He lifted his head and said, “Give her to me.
I'll auction her off. That should more than pay off your debt.” His greasy hand suddenly cupped my breast and squeezed.
“With a little left over for you to spend as you want.” He pinched my nipple, and I screamed.
I tried to step out of his grip, but nothing worked.
“No, I'll get the money to you. I told ya that already.” My dad’s wide eyes grew frightened.
Aldo chuckled behind me. “You're going to come up with all that cash in twenty-four hours?”
My stomach sank.
Mostly because I knew how much money my dad had.
Less than zero.
Everything I'd made last week went to rent and utilities. And groceries.
I wasn't sure how much exactly he needed, but I was pretty sure it was more than zero.
“I'll get it to you, Aldo. I'm good for it,” my dad stuttered, holding his hands up. “Swear to God, I'm good for it.”
In a burst I didn't see coming, Aldo let me go with a shove. I stumbled toward the couch and used my hands to catch myself on the back of it.
“All right, Darren. If you're going to be stubborn.
I'll wait. You've got twenty-four hours.
And then I'll be back to collect your beautiful, young daughter,” he said in his own disgustingly sick way.
“See you tomorrow, Francesca.” He grinned at me.
“And don't do anything silly like trying to run or anything. Everyone in this house is being watched.” Then he winked at me and turned his greasy self around and headed to the front door.
He opened it, then swiveled his head around.
“And no boyfriends, Francesca. Until after the auction, that is.” His gaze shifted to my dad.
“She'll be worth a whole lot more intact—than not.”