Page 67 of Mafia And Maid

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Page 67 of Mafia And Maid

“Fucking answer me! Where did you take him?”

I twist in his grasp, frantically trying to break free from the iron vise he has on my hair.

Dirt coats my knees as I drop face first to the ground. Another kick to my stomach. And I’m gasping.

Broken shards and rocks dig into my palms as I crawl forward.

Everything hurts. I can taste the salty tang of my tears and blood on my upper lip.

A sharp yelp leaves me as Grayden drags me back into the alley by my ankle.

I kick, managing to connect with his jaw.

He hisses, and I scramble away. The hard cement of the sidewalk crashes into my knee. But I manage to get to my feet and stumble down the street.

“Wait!” I scream to a bus. “Please! Wait!”

By some miracle, the driver stops just long enough for me to slip onto the bus.

It’s nearly empty at this time of night. Finding a spot in the back against the window, I sink into the worn upholstery. My hands tremble in my lap as tears leak from my eyes. I curl inward, trying to take up as little space as possible.

The walk from the bus stop back to the Marchiano estate goes by in a blur of painful steps.

I don’t recall if the guards spoke to me or if I slipped past them unseen. I don’t remember walking down the hall and throwing up in the bathroom.

Seeing my reflection in the mirror is what breaks my trance. The woman who stares back at me is filthy and with hollow and vacant eyes. Covered in dirt, tears streaked down her face, and blood crusted down her chin.

I swallow hard and do my best to clean up. Beneath the grime, my lip is cut and swollen, and a bruise is blooming around my eye and cheek.

I think that everyone must be asleep by now, but the murmur of a voice down the hall makes me tremble. I cover my mouth to hold in the sob that burns my throat. I can’t let any of them see me like this.

They’ll ask questions I don’t want to answer.

I press my ear to the door and wait.

When a long time has passed and there’s been no more sounds, I tentatively open the door and rush toward the kitchen in the darkness.

My sigh of relief fills the air as I quickly bundle some ice in a dishtowel.

“Rosa?”

I freeze.

Oh God.Of all the people to see me like this, it’d behim.

“Did you go out?”

I start to shake my head but then suddenly stop because of the pain it causes. “No.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I say as evenly as possible. “I just needed a glass of water. Have a good night.”

“Wait.”

I can't breathe, my body trying to shrink into itself.

He looks toward the refrigerator where I was getting the ice from. “Were you getting something to eat?”




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