Lucciola

Chapter one

(Bronwyn above)
Bronwyn's POV
Have you ever wondered what it is like to work at a club? I have, and I'm right here watching the nasty, sweaty people of New York grind against each other. I shook my head, laughing slightly. "Idiots." I mutter, grabbing an empty glass and setting it in the sink. "Yup." My coworker, Jackson, responded. "There's a lot of them here, Bronwyn, get used to it." He bumped my arm gently, smiling. "Yeah, I see one right now. He's 6'1, weighs exactly 170 pounds, has dark brown hair and chocolate brown eyes, and loves to annoy me." I smiled back, bumping his arm as well. "Well damn... That one hurt. Can you kiss my boo-boo?" He glanced at me, making puppy noises. "Hell if I'm kissing any boo-boo of yours!" I laugh, turning as I hear someone sit on a stool at the bar. "Hello, what can I get you?" I ask the person, seeing it as a blonde male with light blue eyes. "Are you on the menu, because you certainly are special." He winks at me, trying to be seductive. "Sorry honey, I don't except pick up lines as a payment. I'll get you the special." I responded, filling up a glass of our special. "Here you go." I slide it to him, turning back around to wash the glasses in the sink. "Damn Bronwyn." Jackson smirked at me as he wiped down the bar. I sighed. "Shut it Jackson, before I put you on the menu. I'm sure thousands of girls would pay to eat your fatass." I responded, glaring at him. "Well then. Thanks!" He nudged my elbow with his own.

"Can you handle the bar for 10 more minutes by yourself? I have to get home and feed Thomas." I asked, talking about my pet goldfish. Jackson nods, his dark brown hair falling in his eyes as he does so. "Yeah, you'll have to walk though." I nod, running off after waving. "Good luck!" I slowly walked outside the doors, my hands instantly covering my exposed arms as a harsh wind blew through the empty street. I shook my head as I started down the sidewalk. "Ferro, I'll get you the money, p-please! I have a w-wife and kids!" I stopped as I heard a man plead from an alleyway. Be smart Bronwyn, just call the police. I shook my head. He may be dead by the time they get here. I grabbed a stick from a nearby garbage can, and slowly made my way down the alley. "I've told you multiple times Ron, I need that money, but did you care? No, you didn't you selfish bastard." A rough Italian accent rung through the silent alley.

And that's when I heard it. A gun shot. And then silence followed. I covered my mouth as I gripped the stick tighter in my left hand. Bronwyn, run! He'll kill you next! Go! My mind was racing with thoughts when I finally decided to run. I ran down the streets, my heart falling into the beats of my feet pattering against the pavement. I finally reached my apartment complex, when I slowed down slightly as I went up the stairs.

I unlocked my door, turning and locking the deadbolt as well. I switched on the lights in the kitchen, preparing myself a glass of water. I slowly drank as I thought about the man in the alley. I froze as I heard a loud knock on my door. It's okay Bronwyn, just silently look through the peephole. I grabbed a butter knife for my clumsy self defense. I stood on my tippy toes to look through the peephole and screamed as I saw another pair of eyes staring back at me. "Fuck!" I yelled, running into my room and hiding in my closet. I heard another pound on my door, and then I heard multiple others. He's going to knock it down Bronwyn, run! I opened the closet door, and bolted to the window. I fidgeted with the lock, cursing since it wouldn't open. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck!" I cried as I heard my door slam open. "Come here Lucciola." I heard his Italian accent once again. He's going to kill me. I thought, gripping the butter knife tighter as I made my way back to the closet, and silently closed the door. I hid among my dresses and jeans, hoping he wouldn't see me if he opened the door.

I covered my mouth as I heard the door slowly open, and his rough breathing sounding off the small closet walls. "Lucciola, I know you're in here." I held the butter knife to my chest, ready for action. I stopped breathing as he came in front of me, squatted down to my level, and moved the clothes to the side."Why hello there Lucciola." He slowly smiled, his arm reaching out and taking mine. I instantly threw the butter knife at him, cursing as he dodged it. He lifted me off the ground, dragging me behind him as he stormed away. I tried to keep up with him so he didn't hurt my arm, but my 5'5 height couldn't compete with his towering 6'3 height set. I sighed as we walked out of my apartment. I started to scream and kick at him, hoping he'd let me go. I didn't expect him to slam me up against the wall, his face barely meters from mine. "Shut the fuck up, perra." He whispered in my ear. I felt hot tears begin to form on the outer edges of my eyes. "Stay silent and smile, puta. Do you understand?" He whispered harshly. I nodded quietly, the tears beginning to spill. He started walking again, still gripping my arm. As we made our way down the stairs, I saw a bunch of people looking at us oddly. "P-please don't take me back to my dad. He likes chess for crying out loud!" I started, hoping he'd understand. He glanced at me oddly, and kept walking.

"Shut it." He responded after awhile. I nodded as he finally stopped in front of a black BMW. "Get in, Lucciola." He huffed out, pushing me in since I hesitated. He quickly followed in after me. "What are you going to do to me?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. His dark brown eyes met mine as a slow, sinister grin tugged at his lips. "You'll see, Lucciola." He eyed me cautiously. "Oh my gosh! What the fuck does that mean! You aren't going to take me anywhere without my consent!" I finally lost it. His arm snaked around my waist as he pulled me to him, his eyes blazing with anger. "Fuck off!" I screamed in his ear, kicking and punching. He grabbed both of my wrists in his free hand. "I advise you to shut your goddamn mouth!" He all but nicely said in my ear. I sighed as I sat on his lap, my wrists still constricted by his big hands. "Alright Mr. Fat Hands." I muttered, pushing back against him so I could look out the window. His grip around my waist tightened. My eyes started to droop as I leaned my head back against his chest. Bronwyn, sit up! He's a killer! My mind basically screamed at me, but I couldn't sit up. I was exhausted. He shifted me slightly so that my legs lay across his lap. My eyes slowly closed, and the last thing I saw was the New York lights shining among his tan face.

I know, it's short, I'm sorry! I just had to get something out.