My eyes stung, and there was no way around it. I wiped my fingers as much as I could before pinching my thumb and first finger together and pulled the contacts from my eyes. Once both were out, I blinked and tried to produce some tears to lubricate and clear any debris.
The green contacts used to cover my natural light brown sat in my hand and I sighed. There was no need for them anymore. Another one of the lies used to hide myself.
I settled back down to the bed, pulling the blanket tightly around me. As I lay there, I listened closely to every word I could. The bare walls created an echo that made it difficult to make some things out.
My whole day was spent that way—gathering information, observing, learning.
More men came, and those who barely noticed my existence were replaced by newbies leering at me. The new group did little to keep their leader’s secret.
Domenico was the name that floated on hushed tones that echoed around the grand space.
He was younger than many of the other men. Probably not even thirty, and he didn’t dress the part of a capo in their crisp business attire. Some of the men wore suits, but there were others who didn’t. Domenico appeared more casual, with jeans, boots, and a leather jacket with a hoodie underneath.
It seemed odd for someone like him to be high up in the rankings. As I looked around, I spotted a few differences in the men. Most were soldiers. Men that had sworn an oath. Men that killed to become made men.
The ones that came and went with more frequency were associates, constantly being sent out under the soldiers’ orders. They were the grunts hoping to become part of the family.
Domenico was definitely the capo. The captain of the band of rag-tag men. He directed the soldiers with tasks.
Maybe he was a new capo and the crew was his first.
The day wore on with little to no answers to my question of why me. The sun was high in the sky when Domenico appeared in front of me.
“Eat,” he said as he slipped a paper plate through a slit in the bars.
I sat still, unmoving, locked on his silver eyes, which were glaring at me. He let out a sigh and opened his hand.
The plate fell and landed on the ground, food bouncing onto the dirty floor.
“Ew.”
“It’s the only food you’ll get today. If you don’t eat it, I’ll take it as a personal insult, and what did I say about brats earlier?”
A shiver ran through me, which was visible to him.
“So be a good princess.”
I flinched when he called me that. The condescending way he said it didn’t raise any alarms that he knew who I really was, but rather it was a degradation highlighting my situation.
I stared down at the sandwich covered in dirt and dust, my stomach roaring in complaint. How long had it been since I’d eaten anything? My snack after my last set? That was well over twelve hours ago, but my last meal was seven hours before that.
With great reluctance under his hawk eye, I picked the sandwich up from the ground. My mouth turned down in disgust as I brushed off flecks of darkness from the pale slice.
“Does it come with a drink?” I asked as I glared up at him.
His lip twitched up. “Roman,” he said without breaking his stare.
The man from the night before, the one who’d broken my bonds, stepped forward. He gave me a friendly smile as he drew near.
“Yeah, Dom?”
I caught the flex of Domenico’s jaw out of the corner of my eye. “Did you bring the water?” He waited for Roman to give an indication. “Give her a bottle.”
In my periphery I watched Roman walk across the large expanse, all while keeping my gaze glued to Domenico. It was only a moment later when Roman slipped a bottle through the bars of my cage.
“Here you go,” Roman said with a smile.
“Thank you,” I said, once again stunned that I had thanked the man. There was just something about him, a sense of propriety and decency that was out of place.
I drew in a breath as I eyed my point of sandwich entry and took a large bite. It was a move I instantly regretted. The sandwich was as basic as they came—bologna and mayonnaise.
I hated mayo.
Bologna was also not high on my list of edible meats, but my stomach didn’t seem to care and became ravenous for its first food in a day.
With every bite I stayed strong, never taking my eyes from Domenico. Even when my mouth turned down when I crunched a piece of grit and I wanted to spit the mouthful out, I refused to break our eye contact.
“You’re a defiant one, aren’t you?” His lips twitched up into a smirk. “The wild ones are the most fun to break.”
There was a cascade of snickers and whispers of agreement.
When I finished, I opened my mouth and stuck out my tongue to show I’d swallowed all of it.
His lip twitched up again, but he said nothing before retreating back into his darkness.
Every hour I took in more of the space, picking up on more of the details: dust and debris from the crumbling walls, chunks of plaster that dropped from the ceiling. The wood plank floors were mostly clear in the areas where they seemed to walk, like someone swept it from time to time.
There was a table on the far wall with a bunch of folding chairs and one well-worn sofa chair. That was where the men who came and went seemed to congregate.
What surprised me most was in all the decay, on a broken-down, beat-up wood table sat a black vase with a single pristine red rose. It was so out of place. Shortly after noticing it, I watched as Domenico walked over to it and pulled a single petal. His fingers opened, and the silky red petal floated to the tabletop.
I stared at the rose, trying to discern the meaning of it. Something about it itched at the back of my mind. The family my father worked for was well known for their use of roses left as calling cards on men they killed.
Was that who had me? I wanted to yell out to him, to ask him, to tell him who I was, but I stopped myself.
No. I wouldn’t do it. Not until it was completely necessary. I wasn’t even certain it was them, and telling him would be an admission that I needed protection, help, and I wasn’t going to go begging, crawling back.
I locked my secret back down and observed.
Just another runaway.
I stared up at the ceiling, completely bored and wishing something would happen instead of the nothingness. My stomach was a constant knot as I wondered what they were going to do with me.
For two days it had been nothing but waiting, and it continued to be so. Food was minimal, entertainment even less so.
After that first day, I’d resigned myself to the fact that I was sitting in reality. I had been taken against my will, but that didn’t mean I was defeated. Far from it. I kept mostly to myself, not engaging in the cat-calls and egging from the animals around me. I stayed focused, continuing on my quest to keep the fear minimal and my mind busy with the task of finding some weakness that would allow me to escape.
But the awful truth was that there was no way. From the constant guard to the inability to even escape the cage that held me, I was well and truly trapped. There was no way to even maybe loosen the bolts on the door, because someone was always watching.
Instead, I cataloged information.
There was almost a constant half-dozen men who came and went. Sometimes there were as many as fifteen, sometimes as few as two. Domenico gave orders, talked about shipments and goods. Guards were assigned, men sent out on shakedowns and errands.