CHAPTER THIRTEEN

BELLA

It’s funny how the worst time in our life suddenly becomes a place we would revisit, to escape our current hell. I grew up just outside of Detroit, and my childhood was difficult at best. I saw and experienced things no child should, and I swore I’d never go back to that area, however, Reaper has me changing my tune.

I was raised by a single mother, in low income apartments. Cherry Vale, on the outside, looked like a nice place to live. It wasn’t. Everyday on my walk to school, drug dealers would approach me offering ‘free treats’. On the weekends, I would be locked out of the house, while mom did cocaine with her friends. At eight, I was terrified for her well-being, as well as my own. When I was a teenager, she met a man, married him, and is now a religious nut that enjoys highlighting my transgressions, but forgetting her own. After all, she went to confession, and was absolved of all her sins. I guarantee you, she has no idea I’ve been kidnapped by a deranged lunatic. It will likely take close to a year for her to even begin to wonder where I am. Yet if my brother disappeared, she’d have some kind of sick intuition, and know instantly.

I sit on the bed, naked, shackled to the damn wall, and get more pissed off by the minute. How fucking dare he think he can do this to me? Evidently, I have the worst luck in the world, to have attracted the attention of this nut by simply doing my job.

Wedging my thumb and finger into the one shackle, I pull to try to break it, but only accomplish breaking a nail. Moving close to the wall, I grab the chain and pull as hard as I can. It doesn’t work, so I decide on a new tactic. I turn to the door and run, attempting to pull the chain away from the wall, but the ring connecting the shackles to the chain snaps. One and then the other. I smile to myself, because I’m getting the fuck out of here. I can’t leave naked, so I rifle through the dresser drawers, trying to find something I can wear. Grabbing a black t-shirt, I pull it over my head. Reaper is at least a foot taller than I am, and muscular, so the shirt falls nearly to my knees, covering me adequately.

After searching for my shoes everywhere, and being unable to find them, I give up on being able to cover my feet. I might be a little cold, but I’ll deal with it. I’m not going to freeze to death. However, in sixty-degree weather, I will be uncomfortable. Yet, it’ll still be better than Reaper doing whatever the fuck he wants with me, which is clearly keeping me chained up, and fucking me non stop. Had he approached me like a normal goddamn person, I would’ve been into him. If he didn’t go on about my eyes, and try to kill me. Nico is hot as hell on the outside, but on the inside? He’s a complete nut job. I can handle a little darkness in people. I’ve been around it my entire life, but he’s not dark, he’s pitch fucking black. The strange thing is, it’s not even the serial killer thing. Definitely not normal, but it’s more than that. The fact that he wanted to cut my eyeballs out, and keep them, is more than simply wanting to kill me. It’s disturbing. Deranged. I know he killed at an early age, but I do wonder what damaged him so completely that this is what he turned into. I feel like there’s more to his story. I’m curious, but not enough to stick around and find out.

Walking out of the bedroom, I head downstairs quickly, because I know he went to see his brother, but I don’t know how long he’ll be gone. I need to be out of here before he returns.

I race to the back door and open it slowly, as if that’s going to help me if he’s on the other side of it.

All I can see are trees and then more trees. Shit. I’m going to walk into a forest, and find God only knows what. Glancing to the left and then the right, I finally decide to go left, but I’m not sure it even matters what direction I go. Walking through the trees, I move as quietly as possible, in case he comes back. He left on his motorcycle, so I’m fairly confident I’d hear him pulling up to the house. Still, better safe than sorry.

After walking for what feels like more than an hour, I realize my biggest mistake. I should have looked for water to bring with me. I spot the moon through the edge of the treeline, and breathe a sigh of relief. Hopefully, this will take me to a road, and I can find a ride, and get the hell out of wherever I am. The grass turns to sand, and I stop and look around, the best I can at night, and take notice of a sign facing in the other direction. Walking over to it, I move around until I see, ‘Lake Bonetti - Private Property’. Of course he has his own lake. Maybe this is what he does with the dead bodies. Hell, maybe this will one day be my final resting place. Cement blocks tied to my limbs, so I sink to the bottom. The mafia do that, right?

I hear someone behind me, and I do the exact opposite of what I should do. Instead of running for my damn life, I freeze. Like an idiot. Hands grip my forearms and spin me toward him. Glancing up, as my heart pounds like a machine gun, I look into a face that is not the man I expect, and breathe a sigh of relief.

The handsome man in front of me, with dirty blonde hair, blue eyes, and built as well as Nico, tilts his head at me and points out the obvious.

“You have shackles on your wrists.”

Tears stream down my face. He’s capable, and appears strong. I have no doubt he can save me from the Bonetti madman.

“I’ve been kidnapped. Please help me get away.”

He nods in what appears to be agreement, but starts asking questions.

“Why are you on the Bonetti property?”

Pushing my hair out of my face, I try to explain as quickly as possible, because time is of the essence.

“Reaper Bonetti kidnapped me. He says I’m his, but I didn’t want any of it. Can you help me or not? If you can’t, I have to go. ”

The sinister grin that develops on his lips causes a chill to run down my bones.

“You’re his, huh? We can make this work.”