Finding Mafia

Bruises

I hear my heart beat in my ears and I know I need to calm myself down. I am still facing the door as I take three long breaths, trying to deeply breath in. After calming myself down, the next step is to make a plan. I know that I obviously can't run and there is no place to hide. The only option left is to turn around and face him.

Trying my best to rid my face of any emotion, sounds like someone I know, I stand up taller, pushing my shoulders back and holding my head high. My hands betray the rest of my body as they shake with no mercy. Taking them behind my body, I hold them in hopes that my fear won't show through my very fake facade.

Declan gives off no notion of what is going on inside his mind as he blankly stares at me. His eyes are narrowed and brow creased, but nothing shows what he is thinking about.

Is he gonna kill me? The question is in my mind before I can help it. It's the first thing I thought and rightfully so. Who's to say what they are gonna do with me, now that I know. I am in trouble.

"So now what?" I shrug. He makes no movement. "What are you gonna do, kill me?"

My first response is to tell him that people will go looking for me, that I will be missed, but that simply isn't true. There are only a small handful of people who care. The first is someone I don't want to find me. Then Bell, but she isn't who I thought she was. Then there is Declan, I care for him, but he would also be the one to pull the trigger so there's that. Of course that leaves Delilah, but I can't mention her because I don't want to put her in harm's way.

Basically I am shit out of luck.

Again he makes no notion that he is going to move or say anything. It's making me anxious. My body moves on its own as I start to pace back and forth on the wood floor.

"If you are gonna do it now, can we at least make it quick." I look down to the floor as I walk, back and forth. The floorboards squeak occasionally as I pass. "I don't know anything, obviously. So there is no point in torturing me, so you might as well just be done with it."

"I should really stop watching crime shows." I mutter lowly to myself. Taking a deep breath, I look up to see a small side table next to a couch that holds what appears to be hard liquor, which is precisely what I need right now.

Quickly making my way to the table, I grab a glass and select the first dark liquid I can get my hands on and pour it in, a generous portion of course. Raising my eyes to meet his green ones, I shakily raise my hands to take a big sip. Feeling the burn down my throat is a welcomed feeling against my raging nerves.

My eyes don't leave his as I watch him take his right hand and untuck his button up from his pants. The sight is erotic, which is a terrible thought to have in this moment I know, but I can still appreciate the sight of this man, even in the face of death.

His hands move tuck the shirt out of the way, my eyes hone in on the black handgun peeking out of his pants. An involuntary gasp leaves my lips, capturing his attention back to me. He eyes me up and down while his hand wraps around the handle of the gun, slowly taking it out from under his waistband. He rests his hands in front of his body as he stands still leaning on the desk.

The gun now rests comfortably inside his hand, I wait, not moving a muscle. "I can't believe after everything this is how I die." A sad laugh leaves my slightly parted lips. "You have to do something for me." Declan tilts his head, curious. "Delilah, leave her the hell alone and leave her out of this." Declan makes no motion that he even heard me as he stands up taller.

For the first time in two years, my body deceives me as a single tear falls down my face. It passes my check and runs down my chin. The wetness leaves a coldness that runs to my core, my spine shivering in protest.