I blink and rub the burning from my eyes to find Rudi stood before me.
“Hey.”
“I wanted to check you over again before I leave for work. Is that okay with you?”
“I’m fine.”
“I’d feel better if you just let me check.”
“Seriously, Rudi. Thank you for giving a shit but I’m good. If that changes, I’ll come find you.”
There’s nothing wrong with me apart from a bruised and battered ego. There’s nothing she can do.
My eyes flutter open and there’s nothing but darkness. Where the fuck am I and why is my head splitting in two? Even my ears hurt. The pain is rendering me unable to think straight. I was catering for mom to help the club. Effie was there. Her men were spotted around, all on alert and all had their eyes on me. The plan was… shit, what was the plan? There was one but I can’t… the pain is too much. Darkness and reality fuses together, I can’t be sure how long I’m awake for or how long I’m out for. What does stick in my mind is the club. Luca was up on the roof on the next building over. Effie was on the phone with him… she was laughing. Then… bang.
I open my eyes and manage to keep them open. I breathe through the pain and start to use my senses.
I can faintly hear an engine, and the motion tells me we’re in a vehicle and we must be heading somewhere far from the city, we’re not stopping or slowing.
Luca and the guys will be fighting, looking for me, all I have to do is keep myself alive. If Effie was going to kill me, she would’ve done it in front of the club and left me in the backalley. So all I have to do is keep my head on my shoulders and my mouth shut.
Between the smooth motion of the road and whatever the fuck is going on with my head, I continue to drift in and out of consciousness. It’s not until the vehicle stops and I listen to gravel crunching under heavy steps, I force myself to stay alert.
Doors are flung open, and I’m dragged out from underneath a wooden crate. I land on the ground and before I can take in my surroundings, a bag is put over my head.
I’m yanked up to my feet, and I’m given no leeway as I’m half bundled and half dragged through what I’m guessing is a doorway, and then I know I’m right when I stumble my way up a set of stairs. I take twelve steps before I’m shoved, and I land face down on something that resembles a thin mattress.
My wrists are tied together and one of my ankles are being gripped so tight I wonder how big this fucker’s hand is. The clanking of metal gets my attention.
The bag is yanked off of my head, and I squint on reflex, but the room is dark, and my captures are wearing ski masks. It gives me hope that I’ll get out of this alive. If they were planning on killing me, they wouldn’t be concerned about hiding their identities.
I have no idea why I haven’t been killed already, I have no idea where I am, but I have hope. I just hope that that hope isn’t what kills me in the end.
Though the hope has to wait, a black gloved fist hurtles towards my face.
“Rudes ain’t happy with you. She left muttering something about you being a stubborn ass.”
Where Rudi was just stood is now King. He takes a seat next to mine and offers me a cigarette. I take one and dig my lighter out of my pocket. I light up and inhale so deeply, half the white stick burns down.
“I told her I was fine. She doesn’t need to keep checking me over.”
“We’re just worried about you, brother. We spent months grieving for you, only to have you back, all living and breathing and shit.”
“Yeah, well, you weren’t the one spending long ass days on your own, not knowing if it was that day that was going to be your last. If I’m honest, I was more mind fucked than physically.”
I take another drag on the cigarette and flick the butt, it landing in the bucket used for an ashtray.
“It was fucked up, for sure.”
He has no fucking idea.
It’s late and the streets are quiet. I keep my head down as I walk through the city towards my mom’s house. Sickness creeps over me at the thought of what I’m going to say to her. She’s been mourning and grieving for me for months and now here I am, about to show up like I’ve risen from the dead.
I’ve come up with countless ideas how to approach this without scaring the shit out of her and failed every time. I keep going, fearing if I stop, even for a second, I’ll turn around and chicken out of it.
Anxiety builds as I turn onto the street I grew up on, and my mom’s house comes into view.
I make my way unseen around to the back of the house and keep to the shadows as I search for the spare key my mom keeps out here under her favourite plant.
