I nod.
“I need that name.”
“I’ll get it. But I want my uncle alive.”
The woman starts looking around, bending, checking out the small space. She climbs on the toilet seat and reaches for the top of a small cabinet. Her fingertips come away with a layer of dust. “Come back here tomorrow and leave Fis’s gun on top of that cabinet. I’ll take what I need from it and put it back. You’ll return it to the house so nobody will suspect anything. Around this time?”
“That’s a bad idea. I’m a terrible spy and an even worse thief. Alessio will bust me, and he’ll—” She cuts me a look that makes me cover my mouth with both hands. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I’ll bring the gun.”
“Good girl.” With that, the woman leaves.
TWENTY
FERAL
Lake
True to his workaholic nature, I find Alessio behind his desk when I get back. He’s immersed in reading something and barely lifts his head from the screen when I walk in. I rush toward the mud room.
I’m a big mess of tears and snot, which I failed to clean up before coming here. I’m so upset about my uncle. Having no way to check on him, unless I ask Alessio for a phone, might send me over the edge. I could email my uncle, but that’s not the same as hearing his voice.
Yet, I can’t ask Alessio for a phone call right now, because I can’t explain my frantic state. Lying is harder than simply omitting or twisting the truth. Telling Alessio I got mugged was partially true. I wish I could tell him what really happened and how the people are now forcing me to inform on him. I wish I could tell him everything and plead for mercy, but my uncle might already be dead, and they’ll kill my entire family. Whatever’s left of it, anyway, since my parents are already deceased.
When the water rises, Alessio, like Noah, will leave me to drown.
Once I make it to the guest house, I hop in the shower right away and start scrubbing myself, but not even holy water could wash away the thick layer of guilt and shame I feel over being so weak when faced by yet another bully.
I could stand up for myself, but I’m too afraid she’ll stab me, or hurt my uncle or my brother.
I couldn’t stand up to my ex either, not until I knew my uncle had my back. My uncle helped me never return to my ex. If it wasn’t for my Uncle Jordan, I’m not sure I’d be alive today. I think Landon would’ve hurt me that night. He caught me in the car as I tried to get out of the house before he came home drunk and made me suck his flaccid dick again.
I desperately want to check on my uncle. My aunt. Prescott.
That makes me think of Alessio and how I betrayed one of his friends. Probably his best friend, because the man was going to ask him to be his best man at his wedding. Alessio threatened to never speak to him again if he wasn’t the one he chose.
My thoughts cycle back to the wrath Alessio will unleash on me if he ever finds out I spied on him. This makes me think I’m dead either way, and now I’m spiraling without mental breaks to stop the negative images popping into my head.
Tears stream down my cheeks as I get out of the shower. Sobbing, I wrap my hair into a hair wrap and towel off before slipping into my pink jammies.
I turn on the TV and leave it on a random weather station for some noise to quiet my brain, and I flip on the bedside lamp to make sure my alarm is set for tomorrow. But after that, I have no more shits to give. It’s not even eight at night, and I haven’t eaten dinner. Fuck it.
I pull the fluffy feather comforter up and over my face and curl into a fetal position. Thankfully, I calm down enough to sleep.
* * *
Three hours later,the clock reads eleven, but the room is otherwise dark. I clearly remember being terrified of the dark and leaving the light on. My TV is also off. Someone was here. There’s only one man who would come here, because nobody else could get past Alessio.
Knowing he was here while I slept makes me uneasy. Why was he here? Not that he can’t come here whenever he wants since it’s his house, but I would hope he’d allow me some privacy as a guest. Or, better yet, an employee. Even if we do glide over that boss-employee line and toe the lover’s line often.
I turn on the lamp, half expecting Alessio to shrink into the shadows in the corner, but alas, he’s not in my bedroom. Instead, there’s a handwritten note.
Lake,
I brought you dinner, but you were asleep. I’m not sure if you’re napping or sleeping for the night. If you turn the light back on, I’ll heat up your dinner.
Sincerely,
Your Lord ;)
