At least I knew more about the stakes as well as the dangers.
When the first crack was made, I fisted my hands, slowly lifting my face to the beautiful afternoon sky.
Words from my father echoed in my mind.
“Pain is merely a way of reminding us that we are very much alive. Through suffering, we learn humility and fortitude, as well as appreciation of life. Face the agony as you would with anything else. With power and rage. For one day, you will return the favor.”
With my teeth gritted, I accepted the series of lashes, even as the force of the bastard’s strikes pitched my body forward. Breathing steadily, I thought about exactly how I’d make them suffer in return. The event would be glorious. Even as pain beat at me, I ignored the temptation to succumb to their wishes.
No man could ever break me.
I could see her face and her stunning eyes staring back at me. And for a few seconds, I was able to feel the light touch of her fingers brushing softly across my face and chest.
Blinking, the area in front of me became difficult to focus on as sweat dripped into my eyes. The burn jolted me awake, allowingme to embrace the anguish. The last thing I wanted was to lose consciousness.
By the time I’d lost count of the number of lashes, mymalen’kiy tselitel’had finally faltered. Even over the rush of blood in my ears and the loud crack of the thin leather strap, I heard her words.
They weren’t whimpered or done with words of begging. They were demanded in a way that couldn’t be ignored.
“That is enough, Father. You have made your point.”
The whooshing sound was Marco rearing back, preparing for another strike.
“Basta così,” her father hissed.
That’s enough.
Marco issued a series of guttural sounds, remaining in place.
The anguish was biting, but I’d been through much worse before. I was left hanging for a few minutes, her father making a statement that he was God on this property.
Once unshackled, I dropped to the ground, taking several deep breaths. By the time I had the energy to crawl and face the other direction, the beautiful woman had disappeared.
* * *
Misery was a direct yet complicated emotion that I’d grown to understand, although I’d never allowed myself to fall into a crater of despair. What was the point? Every event, everyincident was a lesson about life, danger, love, hatred, everything that involved breathing.
But after not seeing her for thirty-six hours, I was forced to face the kind of loneliness that I’d never experienced before. While protecting my back, I leaned my head against the cinderblocks, thankful for the cool air coming in because of a storm. I’d heard the rumble of thunder in the distance.
I’d come to the conclusion that I needed to escape. There was no good reason for them keeping me here other than that they were worried killing me would cause an international incident and that blood would rain on the streets of Sicily. It was entirely possible the man considered the master of the estate was doing nothing more than a favor for someone, keeping me hidden until my family ceased looking for me. Only then would they move me to whatever location would be my final resting grounds.
The question wasn’t just where but why? The way I was being handled had all the earmarks of being a revenge situation, one that was very personal.
From my past? From my family’s?
It could take months to determine, but apparently, I had all the time in the world. I closed my eyes, dark and very sadistic thoughts carving off bits and pieces of mind just in the way I would physically do to those who’d thrown me into this hellhole.
One would think my mother, God rest her soul, would caution me that my evil thoughts would ultimately result in the damnation of my eternal soul. Few knew my mother’s idea of nurturing was allowing her sons the wide berth to delve into the reality that our souls had almost been damned.
In other words, she would applaud my ideas on retaliation.
How many times as a kid had I wished pain would radiate through my sensitive heart, even allowing me to cry? I’d given up at eight years old when the baby bird I’d found and kept had died. Yes, I’d loved the baby bird as much as I understood how to, but my mother had reminded me that all living things die. Right then and there I’d realized I hadn’t been born with a beating heart, only cold dead flesh that would eventually suffocate me.
When I laughed, it hurt, but the discomfort was worth the images floating through my mind.
A sound drew my attention and I didn’t have the energy to move. While I’d been locked inside the prison since the beating with no water or food, that had allowed my mind and body to rest. Now my mind was active, perhaps even hallucinating.
The flashlight beam was centered on me, hiding the person who’d arrived, but the moment the door was opened, I gathered her intoxicating scent.
