Death And Love Poems (2) Mafia Romance

25. Brain chemistry

Roxana

Over the past years, there were a few moments that made a perceptible change, a click, or rather a crack, in my inner life: the moment I found out my mother died, when I found my father's chopped-up hand in the mail, when Stefano fucked me against the window with everyone watching and most of all, the second I fired that bullet.

He didn't die. Seconds stretch to infinity while I look at him. He is alive. I didn't kill him.

But he is... different. Everything seems different, from plain things like looks to the way he looks at me. His gaze is cold and different from any I have ever seen on him in regards to me. He looks at me like he looked at Ivan when he shot him, like I am the enemy; like I am scum...

He is wearing black clothes that look like combat equipment, sleek and tight with lots of weapons strapped to him.

"Run...," he whispers and a corner of his mouth twitches up. It looks like beautiful malice.

I never, for the life of me, would have thought that I would be running from him.

My hands are still tied and I am gagged and it doesn't look like he wants to do anything about it.

Everyone is staring. Me, him, the other guys.

Marco looks at his watch.

"Run, I said. Yes, I will kill you and no there is no possible way of mercy. But you will get a minimal chance of survival, five minutes advantage, because I am gracious and because I will enjoy the chase," he smirks again, dipped in evil. "When I catch you, I kill you. And it won't be quick."

He. Is going to kill me. I made the worst enemy I possibly could. My mouth is drying behind the gag. Even if I could, what could I possibly say? I am sorry I shot you, very much intentionally? There is no possible excuse for that.

"Now, fucking run," he says and the tone is so dark it raises the hair on my hands and I move.

It's only the adrenaline that makes me capable of doing that because I didn't eat anything in two days. I have no idea where the fuck I am. Am I in Italy? The room where I was held is part of a big warehouse. A rather huge warehouse, I now run desperately though.

Why are you running, Roxi? Why are you even trying? I hope he will take the gag off before killing me.

It's a stupidly big warehouse and the air is damn sticky and I have the orientation sense of a drunk goose right now. Five minutes. My knees feel like giving up. I cannot possibly escape even if by any chance I escape now.

I need to untie my hands, get rid of the gag, and fucking plea for Dani. There is lots of trash around. I try to grab a glass shard to cut the rope.

But, holly shit! A blast rattles the warehouse. One of the doors burst open and several masked, armed men walk inside.

"Policia Federal! Mãos ao ar!/Federal police, put your hands up!"

Several laser lights swirl across the room. I look at them and hope they don't shoot me now. In seconds they spread all over the place.

One of them lifts his face cover slightly, walks towards me, and wraps his arms around me.

"You are alive. Thank God! I am so sorry! I am so sorry for everything, Roxana! I am sorry for making you go to that stupid party, I am sorry for bruising your neck; I really didn't mean to. I am sorry for pushing you to tell me things when you were not ready. I am sorry. I really am. I love you and I thought I would never see you again."

"T, não se distraia!/ T, don't neglect your damn cover." I think to recognize Davi's voice and eyes.

"It's all good, we'll get them," says a calmer voice and gives my shoulder a light squeeze. That's probably Bruno.