Grace
* * *
Knock, knock. The hard pounding on my bedroom door forces my eyes open. I don’t shake or shudder, and I don’t flinch when the door opens without a response from me. I’m used to it now. My breathing comes in carefully, each movement calculated.
The door creaks and then shuts with a loud bang as I rise and blink the sleep from my eyes. I don’t know how long I’ve been asleep, but it doesn’t matter. It’s not like I have anything else to do, or anywhere to go.
I restrain myself from stretching and sit up on the edge of my bed, my hands clasped in my lap as I watch my father walk toward me. I'm used to this, but my heart still races with fear. Everything else I can control, but not my heart. No matter how much I want it to remain calm, it always beats harder and tries to escape up my throat whenever he comes to get me. I never know what to expect, but I know how to behave. I’ve learned the hard way, but now I know how to survive. That’s all I do… survive.
If I was a boy, it wouldn’t be like this. But I’m a disappointment. A reminder of my mother, and how she betrayed him. That’s all I am. He never fails to make sure I know it.
“You need to do something for me,” he says in a lowered voice. It holds the edge of a threat when he talks to me. It’s always there, like he’s waiting for me to give him a reason to strike me. Unless Uncle Toni’s in the room. Just the thought of my godfather makes my heart calm slightly. He can’t kill me with my uncle still around. My mother, yes, but not me. Uncle Toni would never allow it.
My father may be the Don of the Rossi familia, but everyone knows my uncle Toni calls the shots. They all look to him with respect, and they’re loyal to him… not to my father. The very thought almost wills me to smile, but I’m not that foolish.
“The Romanos are up to something.” I stare straight ahead, my neck stiff as he talks.
He crosses the room, moving to my window and then back toward me. “They’ve been circling our territory and looking for something.” He continues talking without waiting for a response. He doesn’t need one from me. We both know that.
I bow my head and keep my eyes down as he paces the floor in front of me. His suit pants swish as he walks and make up the only background noise. He usually doesn’t talk business around me. He says it’s not for women, and I honestly prefer to be left out of it. My fingers dig into the comforter as he speaks, knowing something terrible is going to happen. I don’t want to know, but for him to be telling me these things… it’s not good. “I don’t like it, and you’re going to fix this,” he practically hisses, turning harshly in his spot and staring at me. I look up to meet his gaze, but only to keep him from touching me. My eyes meet his as I nod my head like I’m supposed to, but inside I’m screaming.
“The Romanos have been hanging around our restaurant; they’re on our turf, looking for trouble.” His pale blue eyes piercing into mine hold me hostage as my lungs pause their movements. “You’re going out there as bait.”
I don’t react, but he still holds up his pointer and lowers his voice as if I’ve disobeyed him. Sometimes I can’t prevent him from beating me, but it’s best not to react, so I’m still as he says, “You don’t have a choice. You’re going to get us the information we need, and we’ll get you out.”
For a moment I question if he’ll really come save me, or if the Romanos will get to keep me. I’m not sure it matters much. Although at least here I know what to expect. I rely on the comfort of familiarity. I search my father’s face for answers, for reassurance. But there’s nothing there. Only emptiness in his dark eyes.
“They’re going to take you. You need to trust me and stay focused. Listen to what they say and when I come to get you, you'll tell me everything.”
I’m numb to his words. It wouldn’t be the first time he's used me for his own plans. I nod my head once, although I don’t speak. He doesn’t like it when I talk.
My heart leaps in my chest as he grips my chin in his hand and rips my head to the side.
“Answer me!” he screams at me. His stale breath fills my lungs as I heave in a frightened breath. After all these years I still cower. Maybe there’s a part of me that isn’t dead yet.
“Yes, father. I’ll listen to everything.” My throat feels so tight, but the words come out calmly. “I’ll tell you everything.” My blood runs cold. I ignore the voices arguing inside of me. One is telling me to run, and the other is telling me to fight back. Those voices are useless. They both get me nothing but beatings. I’m smarter than that now. It’s not about fear, only survival.
“Good,” he says as he releases me, and I fall back into place as he talks to me. “We’ll drop you off at the restaurant, and you can walk back home. They’ve been scouting every day in the evening, so it shouldn’t take more than a day or two before they get confident and take you.”
I half expect him to tell me not to worry, but I don’t hold my breath. I should be worried, and I am. More than that, he doesn’t give a fuck if I live or die. Maybe he really needs the information, or maybe he’s just looking to finally get rid of me.
I think about what he’s asking, and hope rises in my chest.
I’ll be alone. For the first time since I can remember, I’ll be alone. I try to hide the excitement rising in me. The hope.
Maybe this will be my chance to run. I don’t want to be the Rossi mafia princess anymore. I don’t want to be a pawn in my father’s games and get married off to whoever he wants to make alliances with. Although there’s a faint hope that I can run and disappear, it’s only barely there. It's faded to a mere whisper of what it used to be.
I’ve tried before to run, and failed. I have the scars to prove it’s not possible to outrun the Rossis.
“Do you understand, Grace?” my father asks, practically spitting out my name like a curse.
“Yes, father.” My eyes fall to the floor. It’s better not to look him in the eyes, especially when I feel like this… when I feel hopeful. “Whatever you need me to do.”
“Good.” He turns and walks to the door with heavy steps, speaking without looking at me. “Get yourself dressed. We’re leaving soon.”
My hands ball into fists as the door closes, and my breathing comes in ragged pants. The facade leaves me quickly. I hate him. With everything in my being, I hate him. I rise from the bed and look out my window. It’s nailed shut from the outside to keep me from jumping.
Outside, it’s dark and grey with clouds covering nearly every inch of the visible sky. It reflects everything that I feel.
