A traumatic event places Mia Martinez in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Trying to run from her problems, but instead running into a whole set of new ones by the name of Giovanni Luciano.
Giovanni became the Don of the Italian Mafia at the age o...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Chapter Seven
•••
The same lonely feeling stirs at the pit of my stomach as I lay in this bed. Confined by these same four walls as I did back home. It's as if nothing and everything changed all at once. I should be happy I'm out of that house, but I'm anything but that.
I shouldn't feel as if I'd rather be there. I shouldn't pout at the fact that the only two places I've been in my entire life has been somewhere I'm held captive. Somewhere I can't free roam if I choose too.
I wonder what that feels like. The ten minutes of freedom I had faded away too soon. The high I felt running without having to look back. I want that feeling again. I need that feeling.
I guess I should be slightly thankful. They didn't leave me with no human contact. It's only a couple people, but more than one person. I'd easily replace them with her though.
Grace and I have become acquainted over the past few days. She's a 36 year old with two younger siblings. I accused her of lying to me about her age. She looks too youthful. That's all the information she was willing to give, so I didn't push her. I'd only assume it was a sore subject.
Speaking of Grace, I'm hungry again. I don't have a phone or a damn clock in the room, so I can't tell when she'll be bringing me lunch.
I kind of want to get up and go find the kitchen, but Jasmines voice is in the back of my mind telling me not to. Back home she would screw it in my brain. 'Mia Martinez, I swear to God' blah blah blah.
I ignore the constant burn in my chest from the thought of her, as always.
It's fine. I'll just ask Grace to show me around. Maybe she might even hang out with me. If not, I'll just have to bug Nico into it.
A knock on the door pulls me out of my thoughts. I can only hope it's food. Leaning back on the head rest, I let out a faint 'come in.'
I smile at the sight of a lunch tray as the door opens. Grace has always been the one to bring me food, so the suspicion was evident on my face when Nico stepped in.
Nico hasn't been around much anymore since I stopped receiving check ups for my ankle. The doctor stopped visiting me five days ago since he told me I was healing nicely. It was only a superficial break, so it didn't need much attention.
He's only bothered coming in twice in the past few days. He didn't have any reason too, but he still did. Both times he told me he had nothing better to do, but he always asked me how I was doing.
A small part of me wants to think he cares. I wouldn't admit it to anyone else, but he's growing on me.
I think he doesn't visit much since I keep trying to get information out of him. He tells me the same thing every time, "You'll have to ask Capo." There is only one problem with that. I'm not allowed to leave, and I doubt Gio will be checking up on me any time soon.
