Psychotic Love (a mafia love story)

Chapter 53

ECHO'S POV

I spent the whole night hanging by my wrists. My arms fell numb hours ago and as time ticks by, breathing becomes more and more of a chore.

Arturo came in with a lady dressed in black scrubs about thirty minutes ago. While I hung from the ceiling, she took blood from my thigh. I didn't feel a thing. Compared to the injuries Arturo has left me with, that little poke was nothing.

I've accepted my fate. It is clear to me that I won't have peace before a little havoc first. I've prepared myself for the horrendous pain Arturo will inflict on my body. I've thought of all the ways he might do it. He already said he'll take my eyes, but he'll probably burn me too. Hang me with a noose, waterboard me, electrocute me, cut my limbs off one by one. I don't know, but I know there's no way the baby's alive and I'm gonna pay the price for it.

The heavy steel door begins to unlock. My head feels to weigh more than a thirty-pound kettlebell, so I don't bother lifting it to see Arturo come in. I know it's him.

"You are pregnant," he says. He brings himself only inches away. I manage to lift my head onto my shoulders. Our gazes are now leveled due to me being a couple inches off the ground. "But I'm gonna take you to the infirmary for an ultrasound to be sure that the baby's still..."

As his words stop, Arturo takes a step back. The crease between his brows is worrying. He trails his fingers down my inner thigh and pulls away. My heart stops when my sight catches red glistening on his fingertips. That is certainly the blood from a miscarriage. He just stares at it, his fist clenched, and his chest dramatically rising and falling.

I don't breathe.

He walks over to the pulley and instead of gently lowering me, he lets my body smack into the ground. Hitting the concrete feels like shattering into a million pieces.

Arturo snatches me up by my hair and pulls me close. "You're the most useless thing to ever exist. You can't follow my simple instructions, you can't even fucking satisfy me. You're pathetic, you can't even do the very thing you were made for." He slams his fist into my stomach. It knocks the wind from me.

He releases his grip from my hair and I fall to the floor. I don't cry and scream; I don't have the energy. I just whimper on the floor and pray for my demise. I'm so fucking tired.

Arturo brings himself to stand over me, each foot on either side of my body. As I lay on my side holding my belly, I tell myself that this baby didn't die for no reason. I tell myself not to feel guilty. This baby dying is probably the best thing that could have ever happened to it. This life is not what it deserves.

Arturo pushes me onto my back before striking my face. One punch is all it takes for everything to fall dark.

•••••

My eyes flicker open and the pain that feels to subside when I rest is now fully awake. Throbbing, pounding, aching, soreness, all at once it resides within my dying body.

I go to move but I quickly realize I'm tightly strapped down with leather to a steel chair. Panic courses deep within my veins as I struggle to no avail.

I take a look around. This isn't where he always keeps me. There aren't any windows in this small, dimly lit room though. Am I still in the basement? The walls are concrete and blood covered. And the stench of death is pungent.