Rosina couldn’t help herself. The tears wouldn’t stop. Her hands shook and she felt like she was falling apart.
On the way to the airport, they had ridden the Terra Vision bus, but when she ran back to the bus area, it was gone. She found a different one idling at the airport that said one of their stops was Termini Station. She had gotten on and taken a seat.
Now they sat on the highway, not moving. An accident on the road ahead had temporarily blocked all the lanes heading into Rome, the driver had told them. It wouldn’t be long now.
She leaned out into the aisle and stared ahead at the top of a vehicle that had flipped onto its side. At least twenty cars separated her bus from the accident.
Wow, that was close. It would seriously suck if she got hurt in a random accident when she had stayed behind to help her man.
Her man. Her new husband. She couldn’t let him face this alone. Not after all they’d been through together. Years of fighting with their parents and their stupid, old-world customs. Her mother saying she should marry an Italian boy. His father saying he needed a nice Greek woman. Neither side not backing down. Her mother’s reaction had especially disappointed her. Rosina had expected better.
So Darwin had proposed the idea to elope to Rome. Get married in Rome as a show of respect to her family and honeymoon in Greece as a show of respect to his father. Deal with the repercussions later.
But now look at them. On the run, with someone trying to kill them, according to Darwin. Ridiculous. Everyone died that fateful night at the hangar. No one was alive to see Darwin hit that man. Besides, the guy was insane. How did he think he could kill that many people and expect to live?
What did her husband ever do? Accident, by definition, meant not intentional. He didn’t mean it. Darwin didn’t aim his Ford at the guy.
Rosina shook her head and looked out her window at the traffic rushing by the other way. She wiped at her eyes and took in a deep breath.
She would need to talk to somebody. The cops? The bad guys?
Who were they anyway? How could she find them?
She had no idea how things worked, nor did she want to know. She just wanted her husband back and she would do anything for him. Even risk staying in Rome and not running to Greece.
She’d waited too long to find the man of her dreams. She’d lost control, running around, laughing and screaming, when he came up with the idea to run to Rome. His book sales had shot through the stratosphere in the last two months after the news had labeled him the Hero of the Hangar. His picture ran in every newspaper across North America, detailing how he accidentally killed a mafia killer, with an American Ford Mustang. One sleazy paper even asked, was there any other way to deal with vermin?
The bus’s engine revved and the driver angled the bus closer to the railing at the median.
It took him a few minutes, but then the bus passed the accident. Rosina stretched in order to see out the window and tried to catch a look at the vehicle, but from her side, she only saw the top of the vehicle, which lay on its side door.
She eased back down and wondered what had happened to Darwin. Why couldn’t he be honest with her? Was it because he knew this is how she would respond? Did he know her that well already?
If so, she didn’t know him well enough. She should’ve figured out what was bothering him lately. She had noticed that he was out of sorts, but she didn’t push harder to find out why. Also, she couldn’t figure it out on her own when she should have.
Whatever happened in the next few days, Rosina would stand by her man. She would be there for him at all costs whether he liked it or not. It was the Italian way. It was her way.
Then, maybe, her parents would accept their relationship.
She’d show them. No one would push her around. People weren’t really out there killing each other. Life wasn’t an 1800s western with everyone and their neighbor toting guns and shooting each other.
Sure, there was crime. But there were laws and people couldn’t kill with impunity. She was in a civilized country, her ancestor’s country, and she would see any perpetrators of illegal activities put behind bars.
Worst case, she’d walk into the Canadian Embassy and demand her rights as a citizen of one of the best countries in the world. That would be better than calling local authorities. Who knew how many were paid off.
Maybe that’s what she should do in the first place. Just go to the embassy and explain to them what was happening. Show them Darwin’s note. See what they could do.
No, first, she’d head back to the Hotel Luigi and get a room. She couldn’t make a wrong move. If she contacted the wrong people, Darwin could be in worse trouble. The decision on what to do grew increasingly stressful.
The bus entered the downtown area. She stared out the window at all the buildings as they passed the bus’s windows and yearned for Darwin to be sitting beside her. She didn’t think she could possibly miss him as much as she did at that moment.
It’s all their fault. Those fucking assholes will pay for screwing around my husband. Nobody does this to my family. Nobody.
The bus driver hit the horn as he angled into his spot and stopped.
The familiar Termini Station bustled around her as people milled about. She got off in turn and started across the street toward her hotel. Her stomach growled, reminding her of how hungry she was. The worst feeling was flying on a full stomach, so she had eaten a small portion of the continental breakfast that morning, which was hours ago. After she checked in, she would stop and get something to eat. Or was that a diversion from doing what she knew she had to do, like contacting someone to tell them her husband had been kidnapped.
It struck her that she wasn’t being too cautious. What if Darwin’s pursuers were following her right now? What if they’d already killed her husband?
She stopped walking and turned around fast. People walked left, right and all around, but as far as she could tell, no one was paying any special attention to her.
She turned back around and stepped into the lobby of the Hotel Luigi. After running up the front stairs, the clerk informed her that they had a room available.
She walked up to the second floor and entered room twenty-seven. She parted the tall, white curtains, opened the long, slender doors and stepped out onto the balcony. To her surprise, it was the only room with a balcony. Rome bustled one floor below her. To the right sat the wall of Termini Station, to her left, open street.
She had to go to the police. Either that or the embassy. She saw Darwin get put into a van. There was no question he was in danger.
She took in a deep breath and turned back into the room. She closed and locked the balcony doors, grabbed her room key, fifty euros and locked the room behind her.
Standing in the hallway, it hit her. Could the men who had blocked traffic in the two Crown Victorias that morning, be connected to all this? Were they trying to get Darwin, even then, on the open, public highway? If they were, then these men, this organization, was fearless.
She descended the stairs to the lobby and then more stairs to the door that led outside.
A long, sleek limousine sat parked across from the open door.
The back door opened. A very large man in a suit two sizes too small stepped out and started toward the sidewalk. She watched him closely.
The man hit the sidewalk and turned her way.
Rosina looked away out of embarrassment. She didn’t normally stare at people. Today was different. She had to watch people. See who they were, what they were up to.
She had to consider, that after Darwin was done with the two men in that van at the airport, he would try to contact her. But now she felt she’d waited too long. She had to call the police as soon as possible.
She looked back. The man from the limousine stood behind her, glaring.
“Come with me.”
She looked him up and down. “I am not a call girl. You may have money, but it’s fuckin’ rude to assume.”
He grabbed her arm.
“Hey! Let go of me,” she said as she struggled.
He leaned in close. “Don’t resist if you ever want to see Darwin again.”
She went limp. This man was one of them. It was that easy. Check into the hotel and there they were.
Fine. She wanted to meet with them anyway. Give them a piece of her mind.
She allowed herself to be led to the limo. A door opened as they approached and the man with the small suit shoved her inside.
“Hey!” she yelled again. “There’s no need.”
The man jumped in behind her and even before his door was shut, the vehicle got underway.
Rosina righted herself, adjusted her blouse and sat back in the leather seat. The man who grabbed her sat to her right. Another man sat facing her in a backward-facing seat aimed at hers. Both men were grinning. She had no idea why, but they were.
“You two wanna tell me what the joke is?”
They looked at each other and then both turned their attention on her. The man who threw her in the limo said, “It’s over. That’s why we’re happy. We get to go home.”
“What’s over?”
“We have that rat bastard of a husband of yours and now we have you.”
“You have Darwin? Where?”
“We’re taking you to see him right now. Don’t worry, it won’t be long now.”
She looked out the window. If they already had Darwin, and they were taking her to where he was, what did that mean? When he said it was over, what could he mean? Home now? Where was home for these men?
Then she decided on another question.
“Was it your people who shot at us the other night?”
The man sitting across from her raised a hand to his companion. “I’ll handle her questions. This is the fun part. I like toying with my prey.”
“Prey? I’m nobody’s prey.” These disgusting brutes talked like animals.
“Whatever you think, missus. Yes, it was us.”
“Why would you shoot at us? If one of your bullets had hit me or my husband, you could’ve killed us.”
“We’re sorry. We weren’t trying to hit you. Believe me, if we were, we wouldn’t have missed.”
Confused, she asked, “Why were you trying to miss us? That doesn’t make sense, if you’re after my husband for accidentally killing that man.”
A smile played across his mouth. “We wouldn’t want either one of you to die so easily. We don’t believe in that. What kind of men would we be known as? Hit men? Hired guns? No, we like to hurt and kill people in unique ways.”
Even though she hadn’t eaten much, her stomach lurched and what little she had eaten threatened to come up. There was no way the man sitting across from her was telling the truth.
He continued. “If you’re still wondering why we would shoot at you, it was because we were hoping you’d call the police. They’d file a report and then we’d know where you were staying. All the time you’ve been in Rome, we’ve been trying to find where you two were staying. We hadn’t got permission yet from the ruling families here to do our business, so we had to wait, collect information. We knew we were running out of time, so we thought we’d try to run you over, shoot at you, get you to call the police. But that didn’t work. Then we found out you were headed for the airport, and we just got granted our permission. So we made our move, and here we are, nice and cozy.”
He was lying. He had to be. “How would having us call the police help you?” she asked.
He laughed and shook his head a little. He had bad teeth and five-day old beard. The guy looked unkempt, and yet he acted cocky and cool like he was in disguise.
“You really don’t know who we are, do you? You aren’t aware of our world? How men like us have police on the payroll? How politicians, back home in Canada, do what we want? You live in your ivory towers and look down at us, not having any idea that we’re the ones who make the world go ‘round. You fucking whore,” his voice rose in volume. “You fucking slut. You have no idea what you’re in for.”
Rosina didn’t think of herself as stupid or naive. She knew there were people like the man in front of her in the same world as her. But why would they hurt innocent, regular folk like Darwin and her. She was barely twenty-five years old. She’d never even been in a fight except for a little hair-pulling in grade school. As far as dealing with difficult people, Darwin had only ever dealt with his stepmother. But now these people were on their case. Apparently, they had Darwin. Now they had her. What was next? They would kill Darwin and her? No, she wouldn’t believe it, couldn’t believe it.
No way. I will deal with this and I will walk away. Darwin and I will live a long life together and men like this will be the ones who die young.
She watched Rome flash by.
“My name is the Harvester of Sorrow,” the unkempt man said. “I’m the distributor of pain. Do you like that?”
Her disgust rose. They wouldn’t intimidate her that easily. She committed to herself that she wouldn’t show fear. She learned years ago in an after-school rape class that these kind of people relish the control they have over you. They yearn for the fear in your eyes. Don’t fight to get away. Don’t give them the pleasure. It may save your life.
“No, can’t say I like that.”
“Well, the shortest straw has been pulled for you.”
“What are you talking about?” she asked.
“Those are lyrics from the best Metallica album ever, And Justice For All. Harvester of Sorrow is a wicked tune. I took my name from that because I’m the guy that gets to hurt you.”
“Calm down,” the man in the suit beside her said. “We don’t touch her until the boss says we can.”
The two men looked at each other. “I know that. What the fuck you think I’m doing here? You best watch yourself, Gabe. Your time’ll come, and when it does, I’ll do you something special.”
“Fuck you. I’ll be here long after you’ve rotted in an unmarked grave. Watch what the fuck you be saying to me. You’re not bulletproof.”
The Harvester sat back and smiled like he owned the world. Rosina could barely control the fear inside her. But as long as they had her husband and they were taking her to see him, she was sure they’d work things out together.
I feel stupid thinking this way, but these men are completely putting on a show. They don’t torture people and kill them anymore. Only in random cases.
It took ten more minutes of negotiating Rome’s traffic before they pulled into an underground garage. The driver wound down and into an open, empty parking area except for three black vans.
The limousine came to a stop beside the vans. Men approached the vehicle and opened all the doors in the back.
“Get out,” one of the men ordered.
Rosina decided to stay silent and do her best to show zero fear.
She followed the line of six men as they walked her to an elevator. She almost felt like she was in a Quentin Tarantino movie with six mafia men standing around in expensive suits, in Rome, the home of the Italian mafia, escorting a helpless young woman to her final meeting. Then she banished the thought as soon as it entered her head. Quentin’s movies got a little bloody at times and there would be nothing final about her meeting upstairs. Nothing at all.
Ding.
The elevator doors opened. Three men filed in and turned around. Rosina entered and then the other three followed, with the Harvester standing closest to her.
The ride was quick, a relief as the thick air in the confined elevator was beginning to get to her.
The doors opened onto a gorgeous floor. The walls were marble, the carpets plush. Before they got too far, the Harvester stuck a key into the elevator panel and twisted it, locking the elevator out of service.
I guess we aren’t to be interrupted.
The men escorted her through a pair of glass double doors and into an office that would resemble any high-paid lawyer’s domain back in Canada.
They continued down a hallway and walked, one by one, through a smaller door.
The door was small, but the room was large. It would easily seat fifteen men. Couches lined the walls, armchairs and tables sat at random places. It looked like a luncheon room for the rich.
In the far corner sat a large banker’s desk and, behind it, a man who appeared from a distance to be at least seventy-five years old.
“Come, sit,” he said, with a flourish of his hand.
Rosina was directed to a solitary chair positioned in front of the big desk. She walked up and stood in front of it. All the men fell back, some took positions near the door and others sat on the plush couches.
“So good to finally meet you,” the old man said. “Please, have a seat.”
“I’ll stand, thank you. But I think you have it wrong here. I’m the one who is happy to finally meet you.”
He cocked his head a little. Someone behind her laughed under his breath. The old man raised his hand and the laughter ceased instantly.
“Why would that be?” he asked, his voice firm.
“You, or at least I’m assuming it’s you, have been terrorizing my husband and making his life a living hell for too long. It has to stop and that’s why I’m here. To make some kind of deal, some kind of arrangement so this petty bullying will come to an end. Then we can all move on.”
This time it was the old man who chuckled.
“Where do you people come from?” he asked.
“I’m sorry?”
He stood up, reached for a cane beside the desk and limped around it. He stepped closer to her, studying her face. He bent a little to the left, then the right, and gawked at her as if he was attempting to figure something out.
“Do I have something on my face?” Rosina asked.
He stood to his full height, which was still an inch shorter than Rosina’s five-nine, and shook his head.
“Not yet.” He lifted his cane, put it in both hands, like he was about to bunt a ball with a baseball bat, and shoved forward with the strength of a boxer in the ring. The cane smacked into her chest so hard, she had no time to recover. Her balance lost, she fell backwards, into the chair.
“I told you to sit down when you first entered my office. The next time you disobey me, the consequences will prove to be more severe.”
The old man turned away and walked away on both legs, without a limp, and without the use of the cane.
Rosina sat there, breathing rapidly as her heart rate shot up.
Concentrate, breathe, no fear. Concentrate, breathe, no fear.
“You and I have a unique problem,” he said. “You, personally, have done me no harm.” He reached his desk and sat down again. He picked up what looked like a gold-colored letter opener and started tapping it on the desk. “But I have to do you harm.”
“Why?” It was out before she could stop it. Her voice was weak, frightened and limp.
No, be honest with yourself. That’s fear.
“Because Darwin Athios Kostas does not have any children for me to kill.”
What the fuck?
“I can see by the expression on your face you either don’t understand the gravity of the situation, because you don’t understand what’s happening here, or you think I’m a sick and twisted individual.” He stopped talking and ceased movement of his letter opener. He looked down at it and then, after a moment he looked back up at her. “Or maybe you think I am all of the above. Either way, it doesn’t matter. The world is one big machine, living off the foundation of cause and effect. More specifically, I’m talking about consequences.” He started tapping his letter opener again. “You do something, you have to answer for it. There are consequences and there are debts to be paid.”
“What has that got anything to do with my husband and me? We don’t owe you any money.”
“That’s not the kind of currency that’ll pay this debt. The currency I want is blood.”
“What? You’re insane,” Rosina said.
Blood? Get real. This is crazy. Oh Darwin, where are you?
The old man dropped the letter opener and stood up, placing both hands evenly on either side of his desk.
“Get me the water cure.”
Men scurried away behind her. She had no idea what a water cure was. Maybe the guy had some disease and he needed his medicine.
“Look, what has my husband-”
“Silence!” he shouted.
Two men ran up beside her and grabbed both her arms.
“Hey!” she protested.
A man came from behind and wrapped a hand over her mouth. His hand was so large, it completely covered her mouth and nose. Instantly, she couldn’t breathe.
Real panic set in. She tried to struggle but couldn’t move. All three men had vise grip claws.
The one behind her inched closer and whispered in her ear, “The boss said to be quiet. I’d advise you listen to him.”
He eased up on her nose in that second. Air rushed into her starved lungs. She gasped and breathed as fast and hard as she could. Lightheadedness came over her.
They placed her on the floor on her back. The man who had been behind her let go of her face. She breathed through her open mouth, trying not to make any noise. This would all be over soon. They’d let her go. Cops would come. This didn’t happen in her world. This couldn’t happen.
One of the men stood over her with a funnel.
What the hell is that for?
At a squeaking noise behind her, she leaned her head back and saw the Harvester of Sorrow from the limousine wheeling something that looked like a keg into the room.
Is this his water cure?
The rest of the men surrounded her. In that moment, she realized it was for her. She tried to get up, but only made it a few inches before they shoved her back down. Hands grappled all over body, holding her immobile.
“Hold her tight,” Harvester said.
A hand clamped over her mouth again. She couldn’t scream. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t do anything but watch Harvester bend over with the funnel and a plastic tube that came from the keg.
Fingers parted over her mouth. They were going to make her drink whatever was in the keg. She redoubled her efforts to get away, but to no avail.
The funnel entered her mouth. At the same moment water flowed through the funnel, the hand on her mouth clamped her nose shut. In order to breathe, she had to use her mouth. In order to do that, she had to swallow.
Rosina tried to hold out, but lasted all of three seconds. She took swallow after swallow, as fast as she could, in the useless attempt to rid the water from her mouth in order to breathe. She also drank as fast as she could to avoid drowning. If one breath was forced into her lungs, it would be filled with water.
As fast as it started, it stopped. Both the hand on her face and the funnel were removed.
Rosina sucked air in. She couldn’t believe how tasty it was. She blinked away tears and then the hand returned. The funnel jammed into her mouth so hard, she thought one of her teeth chipped.
Water coursed past her lips. She couldn’t take anymore. Her stomach was filling up. Her lungs were starving. She was going to pass out. Consciousness wavered, and yet she swallowed. They held her longer this time, and still she swallowed.
Her eyes rolled back. At the last second, when she was about to breathe and drown on the floor of the expensive office, the funnel was removed and she was bodily lifted into the air. Water sloshed out of her mouth and hit the carpet. Her stomach felt bloated to the point of bursting. Blackness hovered around her peripheral vision. She saw stars and coughed a few times.
The men carried her to the side of the room where a large bucket had been placed. No one talked. She heard nothing but the rustling of their clothes.
They stood her up. She remained conscious but groggy.
Harvester stepped in front of her and smiled.
Smug bastard. Wait until you’re in jail for this. We’ll see how much you’re smiling with some big guy calling you his bitch.
Without warning, he drove his fist into her bloated stomach.
She couldn’t believe it. Why would he do that? She doubled over and coughed, on the edge of throwing up. Her eyes watered and she fought to keep everything down. Breathing became an even greater task.
The men on either side righted her and Harvester whispered, “Harvester of Sorrow,” as he rammed his fist into her gut even harder.
She couldn’t hold it back. Everything she just swallowed rushed out of her mouth and into the large bucket in a torrent. She gagged and threw up again. When she thought it was almost over, the men raised her one more time and Harvester kicked her in the stomach.
She doubled over and threw up for the fourth time, wondering if someone could die from a kick to the stomach.
She gagged so much, she couldn’t catch a breath. So this is what getting the wind knocked out of you means.
She couldn’t breathe. It felt like her stomach had closed up shop. Her diaphragm wouldn’t cooperate.
Without warning, men jumped on her again, tossed her to the floor, and held down every movable part. Even if she wanted to struggle, she had lost any resolve to give a good fight. She could barely breathe, her world going black.
Then the funnel was jammed into her mouth. She tried to shout the word ‘ No’ but the water flowed and she couldn’t swallow anymore. She couldn’t breathe, and consciousness was coming to a close.
She felt the curtain dropping, the show over. Could this really be it? Were these men going to kill her? Would her stomach explode from the force of the water shoved into her body?
“Stop!” someone yelled off in the distance.
The funnel yanked away. She was manhandled to her feet but couldn’t hold herself up anymore. They let her fall to the carpeted floor, where she curled into a ball and tried to get her breathing back to a steady rhythm.
The wheels of the water keg squeaked away, much to her relief. She thought for a moment she was dying. Whatever the reason for the reprieve, she was thankful.
The chore of regular breathing took some effort, but once she felt better, Rosina opened her eyes and looked at the old man behind his desk.
“You come into my office, disrespect me by not sitting when I ask you to. You argue with me and call me insane. You’re Italian by descent. Have you no manners? Do it again, disobey me again, and you won’t walk right for many years to come, even if you live through your torture.”
Real fear, the kind you eat and digest, consumed her. She wasn’t in the company of men. She was listening to, and being dictated to, by a man Lucifer would consider a friend.
“Now, let’s see if you have learned your lesson. Sit up in the chair that was provided for you. Do it now.”
It’s interesting how fear could also be a motivator. She had no strength to move, no will to get up, but knowing what would happen if she didn’t listen to him, somehow she found the strength. Rosina turned and crawled to the chair. She used its legs to pull herself onto the seat, and then she pushed off the carpet with her legs, dropping her butt onto the seat, without falling down once.
The effort expended further exhausted her. She panted like she’d been jogging. Her stomach felt foreign and bile lined her mouth. She tried to swallow, but the desire had left her. Spittle slowly dripped from her lips, dangling in long beads, collecting on the carpet by her feet.
“Someone, get her a Kleenex. Now.”
People shuffled behind her. A moment later a handkerchief was shoved into her hand. She wiped at her mouth and brought her eyes to the old man.
“Good,” he said. “Now I have your attention. I prefer you this way. No spunk. I believe a woman should be more docile than the demanding wench you were when you entered my office. Have I got your full attention? I really need to be clear on this. So tell me, are you listening?”
She tried to nod.
“I won’t ask again,” his face hardened, his eyes rigid.
“Yeah, yes, yes, you have my…attention,” she muttered.
“Good. Your husband has killed one of my family members. Your husband murdered my son, Vincenzo. Now, my son was no ordinary man.” The old man began tapping his letter opener again. The tension in the room was calming, her breathing getting easier.
“He was ruthless, and sometimes stupid,” the old man continued. “He walked into an ambush, as far as I can tell from the aftermath. Four different families and an army of mercenaries acting as security. All hell breaks loose and yet, my boy, my son, was the only man who walked out alive, not a scratch on him. I have detailed police reports telling me that my boy killed two security guards. With no one to back him up, he walks away unscathed. It’s pretty incredible, really.”
The old man stopped tapping the letter opener. He turned to face her full on. His eyes were rimmed red, his face flush. It looked to Rosina like he was about to throw up.
“My boy walks out of a bloodbath a hero and your husband runs him down in the road like he was a rodent. How does that happen, one might ask themselves? I know, because I’ve asked it many times. How does that happen?”
The old man got up and walked to one of the large windows facing out to the lovely architecture of Rome. Beautiful Rome, where Darwin and she had walked around and enjoyed themselves twenty-four hours before.
Wait, did he ask me a question I’m supposed to answer. Shit. Focus. The last thing in the world I need is water.
“And I think I’ve got the answer. I think I’ve figured out how that was possible.”
Good, he wasn’t waiting for me.
“Because Darwin was working for one of the other families. That has to be it. There can be no other reason. And I think it is the Gambino family.”
No, not that. Not Darwin.
The old man turned away from the window and looked at her. “I need you to tell me who hired him to be out there at that exact time. I need to know who set this up. If you give me concrete details and you make me believe you, I will collect my blood debt from them. You will be free to walk out of here and go on to live your life. So tell me, convince me, who sent your husband to execute my son?”
She tried to speak, but at first, nothing came. She tried again. “No… one… did.”
“Okay, well that’s not good for two reasons. One, you will have to pay the debt and two, I don’t believe you. When I feel someone is lying to me, your pain upon death is amplified.” He paused and sauntered over to her. “Do you really understand what you’re in for? Do you realize how dire your circumstances are?”
She nodded.
“I asked you a question,” he shouted.
“Yes,” she said as fast as she could.
“Wow, that’s great. Okay, that’s good.” He walked away and sat behind his desk again. Then he picked up that damned letter opener and started his insane tapping. She felt she was losing her mind in that moment.
“I will keep you alive as long as I can. I at least want to talk to your husband before I start really having fun with you. Your husband, by the way, was picked up at the airport. He’s on his way here now with two of my finest men. After he confesses, you will die first. I want him to watch as all of my men get a taste of you. How would you like that? I’m offering you the pleasure of having sex, multiple times with each and every man here, as long as they like. Isn’t that what women want, multiple partners and the sex lasting longer than a quicky?”
She didn’t respond as she didn’t think he was looking for a response. She wasn’t sure she could respond, as her stomach rebelled at what he was saying.
“After you’ve been used in front of your husband, I will get my Harvester of Sorrow over there to start cutting things and taking pieces off you.” He was smiling wide now. “We will be aiming for as much blood as possible, as that is the debt, after all. Darwin will watch everything. Then he will die even slower. I don’t have any women on the payroll, and no men who are gay, so Darwin will be spared a royal fucking. Although I do have a few brooms sitting around somewhere.” He set the letter opener down. “Okay men, get her up, take her clothes off. You can all start raping her whenever you please. We’ll do it all again when Darwin gets here.”
Her heart caught in her chest. She looked around as everyone advanced on her. She had nowhere to run, no one to help, and she was too weak to run anyway. The elevator was out and not a single human being knew where she was.
In that moment she knew she needed to die before she could let them touch her repeatedly in that way. She got up from the chair and bolted for the office window, intent on throwing herself into it. In her weakened state, she didn’t get three steps before they were on her.
A telephone rang. Hands pawed her stomach, her legs. Someone yelled. Her shirt was torn off, buttons flying. Someone yelled again. Hands ran between her legs. She was ready to throw up. Hands pawed her breasts, her panties about to give.
The phone rang again.
Then everyone let go. The man yelling was the boss.
“Leave her for a second. Let me get this. It’s downtown.” He looked down at her. “Make a peep and I will personally pull out your right eye and stick my cock in the hole to fuck your brains out. Do not betray me.” He emphasized his point by raises his index finger like a father disciplining a child.
“Hello,” he said. “Yes, I understand.”
She looked around at the hired muscle, her heart racing so fast she thought it would explode. One of the men smiled, winked and blew a kiss at her. She almost lost consciousness. She considered screaming. At least her death would be quick.
“Okay. I will handle it.”
The old man hung up. He looked around the room as if taking in everything for the first time. Then he picked up his letter opener, skirted his desk and ambled over to the men huddled around her.
He placed an arm around the man who had winked and blew a kiss at her. “She is something, eh boys? Twenty-five. Those were the days. Perk tits, tight pussy. Irresistible, eh?”
The men nodded and mumbled their agreement.
With a violence that belied his age, the old man plunged the letter opener into the neck of the man he leaned on. Blood shot out in torrents. The man reached for his neck, his eyes wide.
Acting on instinct, the other men reached in and restrained their colleague in the event he would try to attack the old man.
The old man gouged the letter opener back and forth and up and down as if digging in tough soil, looking for a buried coin.
Rosina watched in horror. She had never seen a man killed before. She’d never seen anyone killed before. The man fell to his knees, the color draining from his face.
In under a minute, it was all over. A man lay dead five feet from her. The old man wiped his letter opener on the dead man’s shirt.
“It appears that your Darwin is more able than I previously thought. I will not underestimate him again. I assure you of that.”
The old man walked behind his desk. “When I said stop, I meant it. Little Mickey didn’t stop. He winked at her. He blew her a kiss. That isn’t stopping. Defy me at your own peril. Now, we have other business to handle. Give her back her shirt. Get her looking reasonably good again. No one touches her until we have Darwin. We may need her intact.”
The old man looked directly at her. “I thought your husband would be here at any moment, but sadly he won’t be joining us quite yet. It seems he has killed two of my best men and escaped on foot.”
“What happened, boss?” The man in the suit stepped forward.
“I don’t know exactly. All I do know is that our men are dead in the van that was sent to get Darwin. They were killed in an accident on the highway.”
That was Darwin? My husband caused the accident that held up my bus? And now because he escaped, I’m getting a reprieve?
She wished they were together again so she could hug him and cry in his arms.
“But be careful. Do not underestimate this man Darwin. Apparently he was seen running away handcuffed. Most of the driver’s right ear is missing and my informant said it wasn’t because of the accident. They clearly saw teeth marks gouged in his head. Big John is dead too. Nothing could kill Big John, but he is gone.”
The old man addressed his crew. “Gentlemen, be on your guard. We may not have seen the likes of a man like Darwin Kostas who can be handcuffed, kill Big John, chew off the driver’s ear and then walk away from a van that apparently flipped numerous times. This man must be caught. He must be stopped. But until that time, no one touches her. We may need her for proof of life. Now, leave me. Find Darwin at all cost. But whatever you do, bring him to me with his heart still beating. I, and only I, will be the one who rips it out of his chest.”
Rosina found the resolve to smile.