The Mafia Boy

Chapter 29

Rachel's POV:
I woke up in a pitch black room, duct tape wrapped around my mouth and the back of my neck a couple of times, and a tight rope tying my hands together behind my back, digging into my skin.

I was sitting on a chair, but my shoes were missing. The cold damp floor forced me to keep my feet up as I began to panic. I struggled to get out of the ropes, but it was no use. I felt my body ache as the tears building up as I began to sob uncontrollably, yet silently.

I knew the room I was in had an echo, because I could hear voices on the other side of what had to be a wall or door.

"She's been in there for three days," I heard a male voice whisper.

"She needs to eat something or she's going to die," another voice spoke.

Three days?

I began struggling to breathe as I heard a loud clang, most likely the sound of a rusty door being chained.

There was a bit of light entering the room as the door about 15 feet away from me opened.

"Rise and shine," a very deep voice spoke out from the darkness.

I couldn't speak because the tape was covering my mouth very tightly. My breathing grew heavier as the sound of footsteps got closer and closer...

"Turn on the lights," the man spoke as he stood right in front of me.

The light came on extremely bright, blinding me for a couple of seconds. I looked up at the man in front of me. He looked around 40, a bit of stubble on his chin. His brown eyes staring at me as a smirk crawled onto his face.

"Morning sweetheart," the man spoke.

I held my breath as he spoke. He reeked of alcohol and cigars. The man placed his hand around my neck, causing me to flinch and him to chuckle.

"Relax, I'm just taking off the tape," he smirked as he felt around my neck for the end of the tape.

Once he found it, he wasted no time to yank it all off. My eyes teared up as the tape pulled at my neck and face, almost ripping off the skin. My hands were still tied behind my back, my skin felt numb to them.

"What's your name?" The man asked me.

I remained silent, looking straight into his eyes. He waited impatiently for a reply that was never coming.

"I asked you a question. When I ask you a question, you answer me, you understand?" He leaned in closer, his voice transitioning into a yell. "Now I'm going to ask you again, what is your name?"

"Rachel," I flinched.

"Rachel huh," he scratched his chin, "Okay Rachel, I'm going to untie you. If you make a run for it, I'll shoot you in the back to the head. Easy as that."

The man went around me to the back of the chair and pulled my hands back, forcing a sharp pain on my shoulders. I bit my lower lip intensely as he undid the knots, setting my hands free.

Once the rope was off, I placed my hands in front of me, examining them. My wrists were all black and purple, my left write slightly cut while my right one was covered in dried blood. I couldn't move them at all.