The car ride over to my apartment was quiet, and I preferred it that way because my thoughts ran nonstop. I wasn’t trying to get on his bad side, but he made it hard to talk to him to reach some type of common ground. All I wanted to do was go back to my normal life. Now I was thrust into a new world that didn’t make any sense to me. We finally stopped in front of my apartment, and I reached to open the door.
“Never open a door when you are with me.” He glared at me.
I pulled my hand back in surrender.
“Sorry.”
“Enzo will go with you upstairs. You have twenty minutes to get as much as you can.”
“What’s the rush?”
“Now, McKayla, we talked about you asking personal questions.”
“Right, sorry. It’s the journalist in me.”
“Try to not pack a lot of things. I can have my assistant shop for you.”
“Okay.”
“One more thing.”
“Yeah.”
“If you try to run when you get out of this car, I will have your friend dead before you even make it to a phone booth,” he threatened, and I felt a knot lodged in my throat.
“I understand.”
He sat back in the seat and continued to text. It was Saturday around ten a.m. I wondered what business he had to handle, while another part of me didn’t care because my investing in his life caused me more problems than I needed. Forty minutes later, I came back, and Enzo placed three large bags in the trunk of his car. I got in the backseat and sat next to him.
“What was your time limit?”
“Huh?”
“If you huh, then you heard my question.”
“I was given twenty minutes.”
“It’s now forty minutes later, and I’m late for a meeting.”
“I apologize, but I needed some personal things.”
“Like what?”
“My work notes and private items.”
“I suggest you think hard if you want to speak with your parents today.”
My head turned fast at his comment.
“What does that mean?”
“It means those twenty minutes over may cause a delay in you contacting your parents indefinitely.”
“You bastard!” I went to reach over and smack him, but he caught my hand and pushed it behind my back, tightening his hand around my waist and pulling me into his chest.
“I say what I mean and mean what I say.”
I finally took in his masculine cologne and full lips. I started to speak when the car stopped suddenly, and he pushed me away.
“Behave.”
I started to get out, and he shut the door again.
“You stay in the car.”
“But you said I was going to a meeting with you.”
“Going to them and attending are two different things. Now think about your latest fuckup while you sit in the car with Enzo.”
I gritted my teeth, crossed my arms over my chest, and felt like a child being scolded.
“Asshole,” I mumbled under my breath and slapped my hands at the window while he talked to some men outside the high-rise building. He thinks he’s going to be one step ahead and in control, but I have a few things up my sleeve. I reached in my bookbag, pulled out my tape recorder I had been playing, and hit rewind.
“If you try to run when you get out of this car, I will have your friend dead before you even make it.”
I set the recorder back in on the correct timestamp, put it back in its place, and waited for him to finish up whatever he was doing. I tapped on the window partition, and Enzo rolled it down.
“I want to apologize for hitting you the other day.”
His eyes narrowed in anger.
“You have to understand, I’ve never been in a situation like this before.”
“Mr. Calabresi doesn’t want you talking to us.”
“Can I at least use the restroom?”
He shook his head. “No.”
“I promise, I won’t run. Besides, he has men outside the limo and probably inside.”
He looked in thought.
“No.”
“Enzo, it’s Enzo, right?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have a wife or sister? Would you want them suffering like this?” I tried to play on his feelings.
“You can’t persuade me.”
I blew out a breath.
“What happens if I tell him I peed on his seats because you wouldn’t let me use the restroom?”
“You try anything, and I’ll kill you and suffer whatever consequences.”
“I promise, just the restroom.”
Enzo texted and waited a few moments. It chimed with an incoming text. He held it up for me to see the response.
Savio: She runs, kill her.
“You have five minutes.” Enzo came around to the passenger side and escorted me in. I scanned the lobby, and it was full of people talking on phones and security guards laughing. The place smelled of money and felt larger than life. Sparkling, tall glass windows shined through as people just went on as if nothing were wrong with a high-profile mobster who walked through the doors. Then I saw the sign hanging on the wall.
“Calabresi Holdings.”
“This way.” Enzo dragged me down the hallway of the lobby and pushed the bathroom door open.
“I can take it from here.” The women didn’t seem to jump at him checking the stalls.
He must do this often.
“Five minutes.”
“I understand.”
Enzo left the bathroom, and I ran to the window to try to push it up.
“What are you doing?” a girl asked, wearing a black dress and heels with a high bun on top of her head.
“Listen to me, I need your help.” I grabbed her shoulder, and she pushed me back.
“Who are you?”
“My name is McKayla, and I’m being kidnapped,” I whispered.
She laughed, turned on the faucet, and washed her hands.
“Who kidnapped you?”
“Savio Calabresi.”
Her facial expression didn’t seem surprised, and she looked back at the door.
“Take a little advice and don’t rock the boat or make him upset.”
“Did you hear me?”
She tossed the paper towels in the trash.
“Mr. Calabresi doesn’t do things unless they harm his family.”
“Which part of the mafia are you?”
“I work at Calabresi Holdings, and I advise you not to speak about something like that,” she replied, waving her hand around.
“Wow, you’re protecting him. Are you sleeping with him or something?”
“Savio isn’t my type.”
A banging at the door startled me, and I forgot that I needed to use the restroom. I went to the farther stall and pulled my pants down to relieve myself. A few minutes later, I came out and washed my hands. She was no longer here, and I checked over my face, wiping the tears off, and checked my hair.
“I need to check on Rena.”
My lip curved up, and I figured out a way to get Enzo distracted so I could see Rena. I saw Enzo standing opposite the door and threw on a harsh glare.
“Enzo, my stomach hurts, and I need a doctor.” I held my stomach, blinking my eyes.
“What’s wrong with you?” he questioned.
“I don’t know, but I need a doctor, please.”
“We need to wait on the boss.”
“I can’t wait. I feel like I have to throw up.” I held a hand over my mouth.
“Let me text him.”
“No, it’s going to take too long!” I shouted, and a few people looked back at me.
“Let me call him.” Enzo reached for his phone, and I panicked, smacking it down on the ground. I took off, running to the back near the stairs.
“Stop!” Enzo yelled and pushed some people in front of me. He went to the exit doors and ran down the stairs. I was lucky we were on the main lobby floor, as I pushed the back entrance door to the alley and saw no one in the back. I took off down the street as cars passed. I looked back and saw Enzo and two other men running behind me.
“Please, let me get away from them.” I almost tripped but caught myself when I ran into a door opening.
“Watch out!” a guy yelled.
I ran into a local bar and hid behind the wall.
“Can I help you?” the hostess asked.
“I need a phone.” I bent over, trying to catch my breath.
“Are you in trouble?”
“Please, I just need to use the phone. I’ll pay you.” I checked my pockets and forgot I left my wallet back in the limo.
“Shit.”
“Calm down and tell me what’s wrong,” she said.
“Some men are after me.”
“Why?”
“I don’t have time to explain. I need to use the phone.”
“Okay, you can use the phone at the bar.”
“Thank you.” I walked to the bar, looking over my shoulder to make sure no one was coming. The phone was placed on the counter, and I dialed Rena’s cell.
“I’m busy, so leave a message,” Rena’s voice message repeated for the third time.
“What if he killed her already?”
“Anything to drink?” the bartender asked.
“No, but who owns this place?”
“I do.”
I froze in place, dropped my head at the sound of his voice. He took the phone out of my hand and calmly placed it down on the base.