Indebted Love

♡ trente deux ♡

I run my fingers along the barrel of the AK 47 gun, the cool metal sending a shiver down my spine. Pressing my palms on it, the gun swarms under my heat. My thumb treads on the trigger, imagining Angel or Seth's fingers on it- mercilessly ending someone's life out of boredom.

Or maybe vengeance, as they explained to me last night. The horrors of their childhood in this criminal life drove this split personality of a God complex. Yet they're capable of love and affection. It's just a family with alternative careers, Seth says, with a smile meant to display ironic pleasure in such vulgar activities.

I knew this at the beginning of our marriage. I accepted it and lived on without much harm besides kidnapping. So what's a few more years of this? A lifetime on the threshold of life and death, deciding who lives and dies and training and fighting to survive.

No, Seth promised me a peaceful life too. A chance to live as normally as possible- to bear children if I wish and we would raise them better than our childhood. Will I get used to the smell of old blood and flesh? Will our children get used to this life and want another generation?

I drop my hands from the displays of guns, turning around to look at the thankfully empty torture chair and our men, gang members- my people working for me, cleaning up the place. Seth and Angel stood beside each other, giving orders and talking beside themselves on the capture of Adrian Parker. And the rest of his people.

"Should we put our princess in a safe house? Things can get ugly..." I hear Seth suggest and give a short glance over his shoulders.

I remain as neutral and indifferent as I can be. Neither was affected by the blood and weapons in this room. It doesn't take much effort to imagine what sort of things happen here. So what if this is a little unsettling... makes my husbands a little more raw to look at.

They see it. Maybe it's in my eyes. My hands shake as Angel brings me to his chest, arms wrapped around me- and it's so warm here. Safe and different from what's expected of a Mafia Lord.

"Maybe it was a bad idea to bring her here," Angel says, smoothing my back with small circles, "but it's her choice regardless. Right baby?"

I raise my head to nod, squinting my eyes as the bright light swings to and from above their heads.

"You can do whatever you want but you can't leave us ever," Angel says afterthought, with solemn and possessive truth.

For some reason, I'm afraid.

"Please don't hurt Peter if you find him with Timothy," I whisper, pulling back and turning around to look at the room again.

"We won't," I hear Seth reply, walking over to unscrew the metal chair in the middle of the room and lift it out of place.

I follow the electric line to the power outlet on the wall, switched off but I can hear the screams of electricity overriding the body. Decay on the walls matched the cool dark atmosphere of more torture weapons plastered on the wall.

The room was exceptionally well lit, exposing every grim and shadow, nothing ran and hid from Angel. Seth commands the room though, drawing out his plans for revenge, for fun, he says and grins like a child receiving a train set he begged for all year.

I grimaced less the more time I spent here, in the forbidden hallway. By myself as I walk around or hold Angel's hand as he talks to his people- my people. They said they are mine now.

By the time the hour passes by, Angel takes me out to go to church. I cling to him as I desperately breathe in the fresh spring air.