Chapter 2 One

*Lucia*

I stared helplessly into the night, waiting for Jason to show up. I was hiding behind a tree in a place where I could easily see anyone who came out of the house. Jason and I had planned to escape together after realizing just this afternoon that his uncle wanted us both dead. I inhaled a silent breath, my head beginning to hurt with worry as different negative thoughts began to flood my mind.

What if his uncle Aldo was on to us?

I didn't have the luxury of owning a phone so I couldn't check what time it was but I was extremely certain that I had been standing there for more than an hour now. I wondered briefly if I should walk back inside. I could just say that I had stepped out to trash the dirt if I was caught going back up to my room.

Just as I had decided that it was exactly what I was going to do, I spotted Jason waking out of the gate. I quickly stepped into the light and waved my hand so he knew where I was. He turned back to make sure no one was following him and then ran to where I stood.

"What took you so long?" I asked the second he was within hearing distance. My voice was a whisper as I divided my attention between him and the gate. He held my face carefully in his palms, staring at me with a sense of urgency I hadn't noticed before. I held his hands, staring back at him with worry. "What's wrong?"

He shook his head, managing a swallow before answering my question. "My uncle wants to go meet up with the goons he's been talking to all afternoon." He said in a hurry, his words barely audible. His hands left my face as he pulled off the sweater he had on. "I have to stay back and stall him all night. If we leave together, he's going to meet with them and then they're going to immediately come after us. We can't risk running at night, It's dangerous." He explained further.

I accepted the sweater from him, immediately pulling it on as I tried to make sense of what he was saying. I dug my hands into the pockets when I realized something was in them. My confusion doubled when I stared at the pack of cash and the pistol in my hands. "What's this Jason?" I asked.

He brought his phone out of his pockets, his fingers tapping the screen wildly like he was a mad man.

"I've contacted someone who's going to get you to London," He stated as I quickly put the items back into the pockets. He barely gave me time to protest before he continued with his speech. "You know my friend Sarah, right?" He asked rhetorically. "Her brother's going to get you safely to London. He already booked a night flight for both of you."

I immediately began shaking my head at his words, latching onto his arms and refusing to let go. "No, please." I cried out. "Jason, I beg of you, please don't leave me." A tear escaped my eye without my permission but I was too unbothered to wipe it away. "I'd rather spend another night at your house than leave without-"

"Don't be dumb, Lucia." He said, cutting me off. He gripped my arms firmly, looking a lot like he was holding himself back from shaking some sense into me. "He almost fucking raped you last night and there was nothing I could do but sit back and pray he didn't go through with it." He rasped, looking like he had bile stuck in his throat.

I flinched at his words, the horrible events of last night coming back to me. I had almost fallen asleep when I'd felt his uncle's disgusting hands on my breasts. The only reason he'd stopped was because someone had called his cellphone. Probably one of his goons. Jason had to turn a blind eye to how he treated me for fear that confronting him would only make him more ruthless and hasten his plans to murder us. "I don't care." I whispered silently.

Jason was the only person I trusted.

He sighed, looking a little calm for the first time since he had stepped out of the gate. "Lucia, listen," He urged pleadingly, lifting my chin so I could look him in the eye. "I promise you that I'll head out to meet with you as soon as I can. For now, please just leave with Steve."

As if speaking his name had somehow summoned him, I spotted Steve walking briskly towards us. I'd only met the guy once when Jason, Sarah and I had gone clubbing. He'd tagged along with some redheads and they'd all been drunk for most of the night. I had the distinct feeling that they'd ended up in a bed somewhere, in a freaky foursome.

"Hey man," Steve greeted quietly, his eyes immediately going to the gate. He stared at it for a few seconds as if to make sure no one was watching and then his eyes came to rest on me. He took a slow scan down the length of my body that Jason didn't notice and it only left me feeling disgusted and unsafe around him.

I inwardly gagged.

Jason stretched out an arm to shake his hand before pulling him for a hug. I had a feeling from the way he seemed to be clapping his hand on Steve's back that he was only trying to make me believe they were good friends so I could feel better. If anything, it only made me feel worse. Jason knew almost nothing about this guy.

I was sure of it.

"I have to get back inside before he figures out I'm no longer in the house," Jason informed, pulling out another pack of cash from the back pocket of his trousers and handing it to Steve. I noticed he didn't give him a gun like he had given me and for some reason I could suddenly feel a weight burning through the pocket of Jason's sweater. "Keep me posted, okay?" He said, directing his attention to Steve who only answered with a firm nod.

I met Jason's eyes then, wishing that he would read the worry in mine. A dark look passed through his face and I was certain he was about to ask me to come back into the house with him but then the look was gone. He held my arms and subtly pulled me away from Steve.

"You gave me a gun, Jason." I said like I was only just registering the fact when in reality I was actually just registering his intent. My voice was an urgent whisper that I made sure Steve couldn't catch. I stared into his eyes, confirming what I already knew. "You don't trust him, do you?" I asked but I wasn't exactly waiting to hear his reply.

And he didn't bother giving me one.

His lips met my forehead as he hugged me for what might possibly be the last time if Steve turned out to be a total dick like more than ninety five percent of the men that I've met. "Use it on anyone if you absolutely have to," He whispered, looking at me briefly before his gaze went over my shoulder. "And I mean anyone," He emphasized, his voice dripping with meaning.

I couldn't stop the tears that strolled down my cheeks then. I couldn't shake off the feeling that I was now on my own. I didn't think Jason was tricking me, but I also didn't think that things were going to play out the way he hoped. I had never been that lucky. "I love you, Jason." I confessed, gripping his shirt tightly like I never wanted to let go.

Because I didn't.

I heard the hitch in his breath and realized that he was more affected by the bad turn out of events than he had wanted to let on. "I love you more, Lucia." He whispered back, drawing away from me to plant a kiss on my lips. The kiss was slow and seductive and painful. He kissed me like he wanted to savor the feeling, probably because he wasn't sure it was ever going to happen again.

For the first time, my worry no longer became just for me. I'd been scared that my end was near, but what about him? I quickly erased the thought before I became even more hysterical than I already was. Nothing was going to happen to him. He was his uncle's blood for crying out loud. There was no way his uncle could be that ruthless.

"Be strong for me, okay?" He said, kissing my head one last time and asking Steve to take care of me for him. I watched helplessly as he quickly ran back to the house, my eyes never leaving him until he was completely out of sight. I swallowed the lump in my throat as I listened for the small clang I knew the gate was going to make, a part of me wishing that he was going to come running back.

He didn't.

"We should probably get going," Steve whispered cautiously, jolting me out of my reverie. I turned to him, watching him carefully. He stood a few feet away, looking almost as wary of me as I was of him. He glanced down at the phone in his hand before meeting my eyes again in the dead of the night. "We have to leave now or we'll be late." His voice was a soothing whisper but I knew better than to be fooled into trusting him.

I wasn't ever doing that shit again.

***

I stared at the cloudless sky so dark it was almost black and wondered how long it would take until we got to London. I rubbed my eyes again, silently forcing my body to cooperate with me. I didn't want to fall asleep on the plane, especially not with a gun in the pocket of my sweater. Of all the ways I'd imagined I would eventually die, practically helping my murders get rid of me hadn't been one of them.

I barely managed to get into the plane without them noticing I had a gun with me. I didn't consider myself stupid and that would have been the perfect thing to describe me with if I'd been around goons for so long and learnt nothing. Thankfully, I was smarter than that. If only I could be a little stronger, I might actually escape this pitiful life and make something of myself. My body didn't seem to get the message though. Not that I blamed it.

Not after all the drugs I'd been injected with.

A few hours later the plane landed. We walked out of the airport to somewhere I couldn't quite pinpoint in the dark of the night and I listened as Steve made a call to someone, talking hurriyet. He informed me that someone was going to come pick us up in a minute. I nodded at him in response, leaning against a wall as we waited for whoever it was to show up.

In less than a minute, a sleek black car pulled up and all the doors immediately opened a bit violently, making me instantly on edge. I watched as Steve looked at the five men hurriedly approaching us in confusion, just as one pointed a gun at him. "Don't move," He commanded coldly.

Steve raised both hands up in surrender, a gesture to show that he meant no harm, even as the guy walked even closer and touched the barrel of his gun to Steve's temple. I studied Steve and noted that he was looking at who seemed to be their commander in genuine confusion and betrayal. "What's going on Rex?" He asked calmly in Italian.

Like someone in the mafia would do.

I registered three things all at once then. Firstly, the men weren't sparing me a second glance even though I was literally also right there. Two, a ray of light had illuminated a signpost, making me realize we weren't in London but in America. Three, if this was Rex then he was the person Steve had been on the phone with to pick us up and it was looking like he had something else in mind. Either way, one thing was clear.

I was in trouble.