Sold to Moretti Mafia

Fallon

Our conversation from earlier has weighed heavily on my mind through the afternoon. His threat looming over me like an ominous cloud. I don’t know his next move, and that terrifies me. I should be able to read him better by now, but I can’t. I wonder what secrets he’s hiding, what kind of darkness lingers beneath the surface.

I get the feeling there is so much more to him than he lets on and that I’ve only seen a fraction of it. I wonder if he would actually hurt me. Everything he’s done up to this point has been child’s play.

Part of me refuses to think he could hurt me while the other part of me doesn’t, not while knowing how dangerous he is. The thoughts linger even while I continue to push them away. It’s like my mind won’t stop conjuring up ideas.

The afternoon bleeds into the evening, and I get more and more anxious with every second that ticks on the clock. Markus’s friend will be here soon.

I’m wary of having another man in the house. It’s hard enough to deal with Markus, but another man… that thought leaves me in ragged knots.

An alarming ding-dong bounces off the walls of the house, startling me. I nearly fall off the couch in my haste to stand. Markus casually shoves off his seat, giving me a look that says behave or else. I clutch a hand to my chest to stop my heart from beating out of it. I didn’t even know this place had a doorbell.

Markus’s huge frame fills the doorway, making it impossible for me to see who is on the other side, but I assume it’s his friend.

“Hey,” a voice I’ve never heard greets coolly.

This is definitely his friend.

“Come in.” Markus gestures and takes a step back, leaving space for the mystery man to enter. If I was smart, I would avert my gaze, look anywhere but at him, but I prefer to look my enemies in the eyes. He walks across the threshold and into the house, and if I thought the room was small before, it’s even smaller now.

Tall, dark, and handsome. A true cliche if I ever heard one, but that’s what he looks like.

At first glance, he looks like the all-American boy, but the way he carries himself tells me his normal appearance is a facade. Everything about him screams dark, in an evil kind of way.

His hair is dirty blond, unruly, and a little shorter on the sides than on top, almost military style. His eyes, a dark shade of blue, almost violent when they meet mine. I wonder what secrets they keep locked inside? I wonder how many people he’s killed? In what way he’s connected to Markus?

None of those questions will get an answer, though, so I don’t dwell on them long. It’s obvious he works out or does some type of physical activity. Where Markus is beefy, almost like a lumberjack, this man is slender, tall with an athletic body.

“Lucca, this is Fallon. Fallon, this is Lucca,” Markus introduces us with a grunt, interrupting the stretch of awkward silence.

I can feel his gaze like a thousand pinpricks against my skin. He’s waiting for me to do something stupid, watching like a shark watches for blood in the water.

“It’s nice to meet you,” I reply meekly.

Lucca’s eyes twinkle with excitement, and I don’t like it. Don’t like the way his gaze turns hungry as it drifts over me, almost as if he’s interested.

Markus wouldn’t dare to share me, would he?

“Fallon was just going to start the sides for dinner,” Markus hisses through his teeth, his eyes shooting daggers at me. For whatever reason, he wants me to disappear for a while, and I’ll gladly do that.

“Oh, yeah.” I pretend as if I knew that. “I’ll be in the kitchen if anyone needs me,” I say with way too much cheer. Even though the kitchen is only a few feet away, I exit the room like it’s a three-mile hike up a mountain, and I should’ve left a day ago.

I expel all the air out of my lungs. All I have to do is make it through this evening dinner, and then Lucca will leave, and with him will go the anxiety I’m feeling.

* * *

Dinner passes in a blur, and I spend most of it pushing my food around on my plate. I can hardly stomach the steak, even though it smells delicious. All my attention is on Markus. Something is off about him.

I can’t put my finger on it, but he is acting strange, and strange enough, I doubt it’s because his friend is here. Throughout dinner, Lucca seemed to slip a mask over his face, similar to how Markus does. Concealing his emotions and feelings beneath it.

He watches me with this unreadable expression plastered on his face. He hasn’t really talked to me at all, not since Markus introduced us, but I don’t need him to talk to me to know he’s here. I can feel his eyes on me all the time.

It’s almost like he’s waiting for something to happen. What that is, I’m not sure.

As I finish cleaning up the dishes, I wonder if Lucca expects me to ask for help, or maybe he wants me to be scared of him?Please check at N/ôvel(D)rama.Org.

It’s almost like this whole day is a test, and tonight I’m going to be locked back up in that cell. I think Markus is distancing himself from me on purpose as if he is scared to get too close, too attached, because only he knows what’s coming next.

Maybe I’m imagining things, or maybe he’s preparing himself. Preparing to hurt me. I still haven’t told him who I was going to call, and I’m sure he realizes that. I don’t think Markus is the kind of person who gives up that easily or forgets.

No matter what, I’ll do whatever it takes not to be put in that cell again.

While Markus seems cold and detached, my emotions are all over the place. I’m on edge because someone I don’t know is here, Markus is acting off, and on top of that, I still haven’t called them. I’ve been here three weeks now and haven’t contacted them once.

What if they think I’m dead? What’s going to happen to…

“Fallon,” Markus’s deep voice drags me from my dark thoughts. “Come here.” The timbre of his voice sends shivers down my spine. This isn’t going to lead anywhere good. I drop the dish back into the warm soapy water and dry my hands quickly.

When I turn around and head into the living room, both men are standing there and looking my way. Goosebumps pebble my flesh under the scrutiny of their cold-hearted stares. They are about to do something to me. I just know it.

My steps falter immediately. I’m tempted to run, to turn away from the wolves, and do whatever I can to escape. Markus’s gaze turns angry. He knows exactly what I’m thinking.