The Mafia's Babysitter

Four

Cold.

That was the first thing Ellie's foggy mind registered. Cold and wet.

Somewhere there was water dripping, the sound echoing softly. The air smelled musty.

Ellie's head throbbed and she groaned as her stomach churned. Most likely the effects of whatever drugs they gave her.

At the thought of them, she lifted her head weakly and peered around her through the wisps of hair that had escaped her bun, now sitting low on the back of her neck.

She couldn't see past the dim circle of light that surrounded her and a familiar dread started rising in her chest at the unknowns hiding in the darkness. The fact that the only light source flickered every now and then did nothing to calm her rising panic.

With a deep breath, Ellie reached up to wipe her hair out of her face in an effort to see more clearly and calm herself but something caught her arm. Looking down, she realised she was tied hands and feet to a metal chair!

Pulse accelerating, breathing shaky, Ellie asked God to help her just remain calm even as she struggled against her bonds.

Soft footsteps caught Ellie's ear and she wasn't sure if she should rejoice or scream. She searched the darkness for movement but couldn't make anything out past the light pool.

"Hello?" Ellie called, her voice small in what sounded to be a big place. "Is someone there?"

She could now hear multiple footsteps approaching and Ellie strained to see until the toes of a pair of black dress shoes poked into the circle of light. She could just make out the outline of the owner.

"Who are you? What do you want?" she asked, putting on a brave face but her voice shook.

"Ti ho detto che non doveva essere ferita," a male voice growled. She jumped at the anger in his voice, uncertain if it was directed at her. Besides the few words she picked up from Ms. Troiani, Ellie didn't understand a lick of Italian. She was about to tell him so when another man answered.

"Non è il suo sangue."

"In nessun modo!" the first voice bit out.

"Sì don, mi dispiace don," the second voice seemed to acquiesce.

The short stretch of silence that followed was disturbed by a metal chair being moved and set down. The pair of shoes disappeared, followed by more chair movements, before reappearing with ankles, shins, and knees as the man sat down on the chair. The light danced on his upper body, illuminating parts of his arms and chest but still casting deep shadows over his shoulders and face.

He was wearing black dress pants and a white button-up shirt. The sleeves were rolled up to reveal muscular forearms on the armrests, his hands folded together, his olive skin giving another indication of his nationality.

Ellie could feel his stare and she shifted uncomfortably.

"Elizabeth Gray. Thank you for coming."

She involuntarily stiffened, eyeing where she estimated the man's head would be. Her name sounded foreign in his lightly accented voice; it sent a shiver down her spine.

"You say that as if I had a choice," she whispered defiantly, her voice shaky. "What do you want? Who are you?"

"Hmm," he considered her for a moment and she could see his head cock to the side, one hand reaching up and Ellie assumed he was rubbing his chin like some bad guy in a movie. Leaning back in the chair, he crossed his arms over his chest and one ankle over the other knee.