Captured by the Mafia (Completed)

Chapter 6

Vegas

I wake up in my bed like most mornings. Still, I know right away that something is off. I open my eyes to find it's already light outside. Rays of sunshine coming through the window make small specks of dust dance in the air. I suck in a deep breath and catch the lingering sweet scent of a man. Shit! I jump out of my bed, scanning the empty room. Where the fuck did he go? I pull on my pants and run out to the hallway. I'm so fucking angry right now I want to punch through the wall. I march down to the front door, ready to kill something. My guards are standing post exactly where they're supposed to be. "Did anyone see the boy trying to leave?" I growl at them. "No, boss, no one tried to leave." "You two have been here all night?" I question angrily. How could I have been so dumb to think she wouldn't try and escape? At their nods, my anger reaches new heights. "Search the house...every fucking inch and if I find out you let him get away, I'll kill you myself." They both spring into action, headed in different directions, while I run back upstairs annoyed as fuck. Where the hell is he? I make it back to the room and look around again. Did he take anything? I don't think he did. Even my gun is in the drawer of my bedside table. Wouldn't that be the first thing you take? Maybe his intention wasn't to harm me? Maybe he just wanted to leave? Hell, there is no maybe about it. He wanted to leave. He begged to leave. I pull on a pair of jeans and a shirt, taking my gun and my phone. I'm about the head back downstairs when my eyes move to the bathroom door. I realize then that in my haste to check the entire house, I hadn't even checked the bathroom. A possessive need to find him pushes me forward, and I grip the door handle.

I don't hear any noise coming from inside, but I open the door anyway. It's dark and quiet, and I almost turn around and slam the door shut when I see it... see him. His tiny little body is huddled on the floor beside the toilet. I flip on the light and rush inside. He is lying motionless on the floor. His eyes are closed, and his lips are slightly parted. At first glance, it seems like he is sleeping peaceful but when I kneel down beside him, I can hear him wheezing... struggling to breathe. I pick him up and realize how hot he is... not just hot... he is burning up. His skin is on fire, and I know I have to do something. Carrying his almost lifeless body to the tub, I place him inside gently before turning the water on cold. He's not going to like this, not even a little bit, but I don't care. I can't have my mouse dying. The ice-cold water hits his heated skin and he doesn't even flinch. Hell, he doesn't even move really and that tells me all I need to know. Pulling out the phone from my back pocket, I scroll down until I find Doc Brown's number then I hit the green call button. Time seems to stand still as the phone rings and rings. My patience is running thin when he finally answers on the third ring. "Hello?" "I need you at my house asap." "On my way, boss." That's why I like him. I call, and he comes running, no questions asked. While we wait, I crouch down beside the tub, holding my little mouse's head above the cold water. For a moment, I wonder what the fuck I'm doing here. Why am I trying to save his life? This would be the easiest way out for both of us. He dies, and I don't have to pull the trigger myself. He has to die anyway; why not let him go now? It would save him a lot of misery and free me from this weird hold he has over me. My fingers clutch his delicate skin... my gaze moving over face. 

"Don't leave me, Mouse," I say out loud, shocked that I let them cross my lips. Why does the thought of him dying feel like a fucking knife in my heart? I sit in complete silence, listening to the water fill the tub. After awhile, he seems to have cooled down enough and I turn off the water, letting it drain. My white t-shirt clings wetly to his skin, letting me see every little curve underneath. Fuck... he is not wearing anything underneath. I try and avert my eyes, but I'm not a good man. Even in the state he's in, I still want to touch him. Heavy footsteps meet my ears, and I know it's the doc finally getting here. The gray-haired man walks into the bathroom, looking down at the small body in the large bathtub. He takes in the situation, and without asking any questions, he kneels next to the tub and starts to examine him. I hold back a growl as his hands move over him all but naked body. Watching the doctor touch him infuriates me. "It looks like the cuts on his wrists got infected." Fuck. Why didn't I bandage and dress the wounds last night? "The infection has already spread up his arms and because he has two injuries, it's rapidly spreading. His body can't keep up the fight against it. We need to get him on an IV and on antibiotics right away if he has a chance at making it. Do you know when he's last eaten or had something to drink?" I shake my head and grind my teeth. My blood boils... I'm so fucking angry, and I have no one to blame but myself. I didn't even give him anything to eat or drink last night. "Can you get the shirt off and move him to the bed? I'll get everything ready in there." He gets up and pauses for a second, a flicker of anxiety appearing in his eyes. "Unless you want to move him somewhere else. He might be out for a while."