*Mafia boss and his lost love*
Alessa Romanov had endured a difficult childhood. Kidnapped at two years old, she had no memory of her biological family and spent fifteen years in captivity. It wasn't until her stepfather's death that she was finally...
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My heart pounding in my throat, I looked around wildly for an escape the instant I heard the sound of my stepfather's heavy footsteps coming up the stairs.
I know what's coming next.
"Get out here, Alessa," he slurs, his voice thick with alcohol. I crouched into the corner of my tiny closet, ignoring the panic bubbling up my throat. I close my eyes tightly, hoping that somehow he'll just give up and leave me alone.
He storms into my room. I held my breath, hoping he wouldn't notice me here. My hope fizzles out when the door of the closet opens.
Maybe he heard my breathing, although I'm not sure how he could have. Maybe he heard my heart thudding in my chest.
Either way, he found me, like he always did.
"I told you to come downstairs," he growls, grabbing me by the arm.
"I can't go with you," I plead, my voice shaking. "Please don't make me go."
But he doesn't listen. He yanks me off the floor, making me stumble, then hits me across the face hard enough to make my ears ring. I stumble backward, trying to catch my balance, hand on my cheek. Blood swelled in my mouth from the impact to my teeth, and I fought the urge to spit it out at him.
"I said, you're coming with me," he repeats, his grip on my arm tightening to the point of pain. I know there's no use fighting him. He's too strong, and he doesn't like it when I resist him. It doesn't end up too well for me.
So I let him drag me out of the room and down the stairs. He shoves me towards the front door, and I stumble outside. The chilly air of the night hit me in the face, and I felt a raindrop on my cheek.
Or was it a tear?
He grabs me again, pulling me towards the car.
"No, please," I whimpered, knowing what was coming next. "I'm scared of cars, please don't make me go."
I don't know why I was scared of cars. Or maybe it was all moving vehicles. But he doesn't care. He shoves me into the back seat and slams the door shut.
At the sound of the closed door, squealing wheels come to mind along with the whining of metal. Too many movies, I suppose, although I haven't watched many. Or an intrusive imagination.
I curl up into a ball, trying to make myself as small as possible, leaning my head on the headrest.
As he drives off, I can feel the tears streaming down my face, nature crying with me as it begins to rain, the droplets slowly increasing and pouring down the grungy windows.
I don't know where he's taking me, but I know it's not going to be good.
All I know is that he's driving, he's probably drunk or high, and the rain was only getting harder.
This was not going to end well at all.
But my ending up dead would mean I don't have to see him anymore, right? If luck's on my side, one of us will. Hopefully me though.
I can't live like this much longer.
"Where are we going?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. I could hardly hear it over the patter of rain outside.
He doesn't answer, just continues to drive. My heart sinks as I realize what's happening.
He's taking me somewhere to hurt me again.
And then it happens. Just as I predicted.
The screech of tires, the sound of metal crunching against metal, glass shattering and falling onto the road.
Like I said, I knew what would happen. The world spins around me, and I'm thrown against the seat in front of me.
When everything comes to a stop, I'm dazed and disoriented by the flashbacks coming from nowhere. I don't even remember being in another car crash.
But then I see him, slumped over the steering wheel, blood pouring from a gash on his forehead.
And a part of me thinks, well, if he's dead, then I have no reason to be. I can live my life.
I attempt to lift my head, immediately pulling it back down when a throbbing spreads from the back. I tenderly run my fingers along my temple, pulling away from the stickiness of blood.
And I thought, as black spots appeared in my vision, that maybe, just maybe, everything would be finally over. I could start anew.
As everything went black, all I could see was the rain and police sirens wailing in the distance.
