7. Nothing but an Animal, Hungry and Violent

7. Nothing but an Animal, Hungry and Violent

"What the fuck are you wearing?"

To say I was startled from Nicolo's outburst as I stumbled into the dining room was an understatement. His tone was laced with a disgust so potent, I was sure the clothes I had felt were appropriate would disintegrate completely. I recoiled from his sneer and glanced down at the tight, blue pants and long-sleeve maroon shirt I wore, trying to figure out why he was unhappy. Although, in my defense everyone was dressed inferior to him, because he always looked impeccable.

His suit was gray, tight-fitted and expensively tailored. The contrast of his dark locks against his attire was striking. His stare was glacial as he rose from his seat. I stepped backwards - silently regretful as he quirked a brow as if to say 'test me.'

"Wh-what's wrong, Sir?" I asked, running my hands along the length of my shirt. "I thought this was appropriate."

He walked briskly towards me, grabbed my arm and spun me back in the direction of the hall. The smell of cologne and cigars hit my nose and I was momentarily stunned. He smelt so inviting. What the hell was wrong with me? I shook my head slightly, and managed to open my mouth.

"What about your breakfast?" I stammered as I was pulled into the hallway. He didn't seem like the type of forget his own rules. He tightened his grip on my wrist, and I couldn't ignore the electricity that jolted through me.

"Forget it." He grumbled.

He thrust opened the door to the room I was forced to stay in, and ordered me after him.

"Get undressed. Now." Déjà vu. Instead of the sinking feeling that I expected to bubble in my stomach, a warm flutter circled my abdomen, and my fingers didn't shake as much as I hooked them under my shirt and slowly pulled the shirt off my body. Nicolo's hands skimmed over multiple garments in the closet before pulling out a tight, gray dress that fell just below my knees.

He thrust it out to me, a dour look imprinted on his face as I dragged my pants down my thighs. I didn't miss how his eyes circled around my panties, memorizing the outline of the lips of my pussy, before he pried his eyes back up to my face. He swallowed, and his eyes became darker, while the air became thick with something strong. Lust? I shuddered and stepped forward out of the jeans.

"Put it on." He urged. I grabbed the dress, and dragged the zipper down the back of it and stepped into it. I wondered curiously why he watched every move as I dressed but wasn't brave enough to voice it out loud. He could do whatever he wanted. Truthfully. He knew that, I knew that, and I was very impressed – despite having been arranged to be kidnapped by him – that he was man enough to not force himself on me.

I tilted my head as I pulled the dress up. Maybe that was his plan all along? Act like a gentleman, make me beg for him. Make me the desperate fool who willingly had sex with her captor. I eyed him carefully.

He picked a pair of red pumps and placed them at my feet. I stepped into them. "Sir?"

He remained silent.

"Can you zip me up?"

I spun around, feeling more self-conscious than ever as I revealed myself to him. His fingers touched my back and I twitched, ignoring how they seared my skin like fire. This wasn't natural. I wasn't supposed to gain sexual feelings for the piece of shit who ruined my life.

The room was silent besides my heavy breathing and the zipper being pulled into place.

"I can't bring you in a t-shirt to a meeting." He grumbled – I was sure, to himself – but I overheard anyway and blurted my thoughts.

"A meeting? I wasn't aware."

"This one is particularly important. As you'll come to see."

"And I'm going because...." I trailed off, hoping he would shed more light on my question. His lips were a firm line as he finished zipping me up.

"Let's go." He commanded, before slipping out of the room. I followed suit, like the obedient little play thing I was and kept a fixed gaze on his back.

A meeting? An important meeting? Panic surged within me. Maybe he's selling me? That was his plan all along. See what I was willing to do for hospitable accommodations and now he was sick of my protesting. I would be sold to the highest bidder like cattle. The thought nauseated me.

We wove through hallways, until a large set of double doors caught my eye. I wouldn't be able to miss them. They were thick, and red.

"You're not going to blindfold me?" I questioned, because now I was partially familiar with the way to escape. I heard the faint sound of Nicolo chuckling ahead of me, and with a shake of his head he unlocked the door and pulled it open with ease, despite the straining sound of metal, resisting against his grip.

"I'm not worried."

"Why not?" Oh my god, shut up Selena!

He stopped in the doorway, and glared at me. "Because..." His jaw tensed, as well as his grip on the door and it took everything in me not to cower. "You could... but you won't."

"I-."

"We've already discovered you are less than brave." My face fell. For someone who's only known me for a short period of time, he's gotten cocky about just how much he knows me. I fumed silently and crossed my arms over my chest.

"I may surprise you." I stated through gritted teeth. A smirk twitched on the corner of his lips before he nodded towards a black sedan outside.

"Go."

"Are you coming with me?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I have to make a stop along the way." He admitted.

"So... I'm just going by myself?" It didn't sound right. It sounded too easy. Too easy to make a break for it. The idea began to sound inviting.

"Yes." His words were clipped. With a quick shove, I stumbled towards the steps. I didn't look back at Nicolo – because I knew better. He might change his mind about the fact I can ride alone, and I needed as much help as possible to break free from these lunatics. I could get to the nearest police station or phone. Anything to get ahold of someone who may help.

At least I was dressed like I was important. That may make a difference. Then again, in another circumstance I could be a prostitute.

As I made my way down the steps, the driver walked around the car and opened the back door. He was older. In his late forties, maybe early fifty and I clung to the idea I could outsmart him.

"Miss Morales."

"Thanks." I mumbled, and slipped inside. I was enveloped by leather, and almost choked on the thick scent of it. As he closed the door behind me and made his way back around to the driver's side. I tested the handle, and noticed with sinking confidence it was locked.

"Fuck." I cursed.

"Did you say something, Miss?"

"I'm fine." I replied, petulantly. He didn't raise any further questions. As we pulled away, I looked back over towards the door, but Nicolo was gone.



The ride was long. Longer than I had expected, and as I continuously tried to pry the door opened, my faith faded away with the gas as the miles increased and we pushed forward. This was hopeless. I'd never see Margo again, and I wouldn't be able to beat the shit out of Joshua for getting me in this situation.

At least he got his ass beat. Being kidnapped and treated like property and almost raped was by far worst. If I could trade this for a punch in the face, I would. I missed civilization. Human beings, with adult conversations, and iced coffee. I missed the way Margo would tease me, and the drunken weekends and how she knew every single word to Forrest Gump.

This was no longer a life worth living, and if Nicolo was selling me, I wouldn't continue it any longer. I couldn't. I wasn't strong enough to endure a life of sex with a sleazy old man, who'd probably get me hooked to drugs and make me orgy with strangers. Rich strangers. That reality was settling in. If I had money, I could get myself and Joshua out of this mess, but the only thing I had to offer was the insurance that would make sure Joshua pays.

We pulled up towards a vacant building. No life, or sound emanated from it, and I furrowed my brows with a look of confusion.

"Are you sure this is the place?"

The driver smiled politely. "Mr. DeLuca has instructed that you go straight in and wait for him in the lobby."

"Why should I?"

The driver didn't have to answer. We both knew my fate wouldn't be good if I disobeyed. Nicolo had men all over the place, and maybe they were even watching me from inside the building through the multiple windows.

After he put the car in park, the driver – who I had learned was named Jameson – opened my door. He pointed to a door off the side of the building.

"It's right through there."

"What if it's locked?"

"It won't be." He sounded so sure, but I was unsteady as I left the car. Jameson watched as I walked, with wobbling legs towards the door.

Before my fingers encircled the knob to pull the door opened, I was ripped backwards, and thrown against the concrete. I groaned as searing pain radiated from my shoulder. I squinted my eyes open to get a glimpse of the attacker but was cut short by the kick to my ribs. The air left my body in a rush, and I struggled for a breath, while my fingers caressed my side. The man was large, but his face was a blur, as he pulled me off the ground and threw me into the side of the building. My dress ripped against the force of the brick wall against my back as I skid against it, and down onto my butt.

My head pounded. I felt sick. I couldn't breathe, and beg the attacker to stop.

"This should suffice." I heard him mutter before he hoisted me up and yanked the door I was going to go into before dragging me beside him. I stumbled to maintain some footing as my heels clicked against the floor.

I was pushed into a seat, and I gained the courage to catch a glimpse of my attacker. He was unfamiliar. Someone I hadn't seen before. I whimpered from the pain. It was everywhere. Hot and relentless on my limbs as I curled in my seat. The pain pushed bile into my throat, had me tasting metallic on my tongue. My vision blurred and white spots prevented me from fully taking in the room I was in. I could tell a woman sat behind a desk, but that was about it. I couldn't make out her face, or even the distinct conversation she had with the man before he disappeared back out the door.

"Miss."

The word frightened me, and I looked up into the face of an attractive woman. Her hair was cut into a blonde bob, and her eyes were wide and blue. She wore a pencil skirt, and professional white blouse, and held a bottle of water out to me.

"W-what -"

"Don't try to speak. Drink." She offered me the bottle, bringing it up to my lips, the liquid was foreign to my tongue that had gotten so dry and crusted with blood I was sure. I groaned as I swallowed, even that hurt.

"The meeting will start shortly. You'll be...." She seemed stuck on the words as she pulled the empty bottle away from me. "Helped in."

"Thanks." I croaked.

"I'm sorry." She apologized, before sauntering towards the waste basket by the door and disappearing down a hallway. What was she sorry about? Did she know I was kidnapped? Or was it about getting the shit beat out of me? I chuckled at the irony of how I had wished I could trade being kidnapped for a punch in the face. I got the holy hell knocked out of me, and I was still an animal stuck in a zoo.

I could feel my face swelling on one side from where it bounced off the cement. I pressed my hand to my cheek. It was hot. Burning hot, and the skin tightened as it bulged out. To say I looked like shit was an understatement. I could only imagine what kind of monster my injuries had turned me into.

What would Nicolo think?

I didn't have time to dwell on that fact, because the woman returned with two men, who pulled me up from the chair and threw their arms around me to drag my body towards the meeting room. I couldn't walk. It hurt too much, my heels just scraped against the floor as they held my dead weight.

We stopped at a door, and the woman opened it. I was carried inside, and if I expected gasps of shock, I was disappointingly met with silence. The eye I that was the least affected by my brutal assault, flickered to Nicolo. His forehead was creased with wrinkles, and if it wasn't for that I would've believed he wasn't shocked to see me like this.

I noticed another figure across from the table. Joshua. His wounds had healed. He looked shocked from the end of the table, but not in a way that seemed caring, more in a caught-off-guard way.

They dropped me in a chair, and walked to stand beside Nicolo as he sat in a seat at the end of the large round table. The room was a regular business meeting room, but I could tell by the cold that settled over my skin that more than that had taken place here.

"As you can see... we take debts very seriously." Nicolo stated. Joshua shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his eyes never leaving my beat-up face. Memories, good memories of us came rushing back and I was overwhelmed with the urge to cry. To mourn. All of the wonderful moments that had been lies, and only led up to this moment. This treacherous moment.

What did he have to say for himself? Would he apologize? Beg for my forgiveness. Was he mortified by the way my eye was almost completely swelled shut, or the fact my hair was now crusted with dried blood, or that my dress was ripped?

He remained silent for what seemed like forever, before he pulled his gaze from me and looked at Nicolo. He straightened himself, like he always did when he wanted to appear more confident and mature than he actually was and smiled.

Smiled.

The bastard fucking smiled.

I sat helplessly mortified by the sadistic upward twitch of his thin lips. He intertwined his fingers and leaned back in his chair.

"So." Joshua shrugged. "That bitch doesn't mean anything to me." Those six months we shared obliterated right before my eyes, and I cried out. I wasn't aware a noise left my lips until Nicolo's eyes narrowed in my direction. "You can do anything you like to her."

I couldn't understand how he could be so cold to a woman he loved? Or I thought he loved. If Nicolo was taken aback, I couldn't tell. He tilted his head, and observed Joshua. Joshua gulped. Another sign he was scared. That's all he ever was. Especially when we were together.

Scared of life. Scared of love. Scared of commitment. He was a coward. A bigger one than I ever was. I know if Margo witnessed this moment, she would've broke his legs with a baseball bat.

"I was hoping you'd say that." Nicolo chuckled. It was short, and husky, and scary. It wasn't the sound a friend would make after a funny joke. More like the crazy noises from someone who was about to kill another human being.

"W-why?" Joshua stammered. Nicolo's lips spread wide into a grin.

"Because, now the only way to guarantee payment, is to inflict pain. I would kill you, but that has nothing beneficial for me." Nicolo cracked his knuckles, the task so mundane and cliché thug I wanted to laugh.

"Maybe we'll paralyze you?" He tossed around the idea like he was contemplating pizza toppings. Joshua's smile faltered.

"Look...."

"You've already made it perfectly clear." Nicolo stood. "I'll give you a week to get my money." He straightened his tie and walked towards Joshua. "If you don't have it by then, every day you're late I'll have someone come, and break something."

"B-break something?"

"Maybe your toes, or all of your fingers... that sounds fun." He offered. Joshua's face contorted to pure fear. "But until then..." Nicolo trailed, and gestured with a nod of his head to the two men who carried me to the room. None of which were the guy who attacked me. Thankfully.

Joshua scrambled to push his chair back from the table and make a break for it, but the men held him in place, and held his palms flat against the table.

Nicolo pulled out another knife that resembled the one he had in his pocket the night he told me to kill myself, except it was bigger.

"Please...." Joshua begged.

"I'll take a souvenir." Nicolo uttered before pressing the blade swiftly to Joshua's finger and severing it from his hand. Blood spurted from the wound. Joshua's screams pierced the air, but I knew no one would come. No cops would burst in, and no Calvary would save him.

I should've been sick. Mortified at the sight of his blood, and at the merciless, psycho Nicolo was. My shadow reflected in the window along the wall frightened me, because instead of fear on my face – like any sympathetic, moral human being – something else took hold of my expression.

I was smiling.