The Mancini Saga (Book #1) I.O.U.

by April M. Reign

  ***

  James had thrown her into a cold, stone room and left her there. She did not know how long it had been, but if she had to guess, she thought at least a day. She sat with her legs pulled close to her chest and her head buried in her hands. Her mouth was parched and her empty stomach made pathetic noises. He had given her nothing.

  The echoing sounds of gunshots plagued her mind. She wanted to get her family out, but they did not stand a chance. Now she spent her time thinking about the small village within the Compound. Mia feared for his followers. She wondered how close it was to the time of sacrifice.

  The dungeon where he kept her had nothing but an empty pot for her to use when she had to use the restroom. She cringed at the thought. There were no windows, and the stone door was almost sound proof. Ventilation made its way through the small slits at the top of the door. A small stream of light found its way through those same slits.

  The smallest toenails clicked on the ground of the stone floor as scurrying rats searched for food. It was so dark, she wondered if someone else sat in another corner of the room. Minutes turned to hours. The solitary confinement was making her feel brain-dead as her mind floated through different events in her life.

  When she finally heard two voices float through the vents from outside her concrete door, she stood, sliding her back up the wall. She prayed that it was not James. He had dragged her through the streets, shouting he had found the spawn of Satan. He told the people that they would have to cast out the evil before they could transcend into eternal happiness.

  When the voices in the hall moved closer, she inhaled, waiting to find out about her fate. Then the stone door creaked open, and James walked through with a bat in his hand. He stood at the door staring at her, anger coursing through him yet devouring the chaos and disruption she brought with her. Mia’s heart raced, and her thoughts scrambled for a way out.

  “Mia Baker,” he said, pacing in front of the door. Then he stopped and walked toward her.

  Mia stood tall with her head held high. She would never let James see fear in her eyes, at least not from this point forward.

  “You have defied our higher power; not once, but twice.” He paced back and forth with his pudgy hand in a small, tight fist and one hand wrapped relentlessly around the wooden bat. “Gratefully, our God has given me full power to decide your fate.”

  Mia swallowed hard. She knew how sadistic James was from the stories she heard as a kid in the play yard. “Kill me, then,” she said in a hoarse voice.

  “No, no, killing you right now would be too easy. You have to pay for your sins and the sins of your family,” he said, hitting the bat on the concrete floor. He stepped a little closer to her, she tried to step back, but she was already against the wall. The look in his eyes was not natural; there was a sadistic evil lurking inside of him.

  With lightning quickness, she did not expect, he backhanded her across the face. She felt instant tears threaten to spill from her eyes with the fierce sting from her cheek. Her hand flew up to her face and cupped the pain. When he raised his hand to strike her again, she threw her hand up and blocked his hit. He grunted and pulled her away from the wall by her shirt and threw her to the floor.

  Embarrassed by her defensive block, James called a guard and asked him to escort her to his room. Mia could not help but stand up and refuse to walk with the guard. When the guard raised his weapon to hit her with it, she put her hands up and gave in to her fate.

  She decided that she would make James fight for what he wanted. If it were more work than it was worth, then maybe he would leave her alone or kill her. Whatever he chose, she was prepared.

  She walked up two flights of stairs and into the main part of the house. The guard dragged her down several hallways, and past the room of one of James’s young wives. Mia saw her peeking out through a crack in the door. When she passed by, she thought she heard the girl whisper I’m sorry, but she could not be sure.

  The guard brought her in front of double doors opened wide, leading into James bedroom. The room had a beautifully carved bed with real gold specks embedded in the wood. All the furniture was custom made and of considerable expense. Oil paintings of the Compound covered the walls. A desk sat in the corner with a telephone, and four closed-circuit security monitors, all overseeing the compound grounds.

  James and his goons had pointed one of the cameras at the area where they had caught her family. The other monitor showed a field with two trucks, lights shining and four bodies in the grass, lifeless. Mia looked away quickly and caught her breath. Tears fell to the ground as Mia tried to breathe. She wiped the salt-laden tears from her face and vowed to herself to stop crying. Instead, she had to find a way out of this sadistic man’s grip. She would not die like this.

  He walked up behind Mia and whispered in her ear, “Do you see what happens when you defy me?” He moved her head to the camera monitor, and Mia slammed her eyelids closed.

  “You’re a bastard.” Her voice quivered. She wanted to say so much more, but nothing else would leave her lips unless it came out in her cries.

  He pushed her on the bed, “Your mouth is out of control. You were much more compliant when you were a child, yet even then you were out of control,” he said, walking over to a cabinet and pulling out a towel. He threw it at her. “Go take a shower. You are filthy, and I don’t want to leave this world with your diseases on me. You have five minutes; if you’re not out by then, I’m coming in after you.”

  She sat there a second before she nodded and moved off the bed and hurried into the small bathroom. She turned and looked back at him before she went inside.

  “Don’t worry; there are no windows, no mirrors, and nothing you can use as a weapon unless you turn the soap into a knife.” He chuckled.

  The one thing Mia was sure of was that James underestimated her. He never checked her clothes or searched her for additional weapons; that was his first mistake. His second mistake was giving her time to put together a game plan. Even she knew her towel could double as a weapon. All the rescue attempts that she had gone on with Miesha had taught her some valuable lessons.

  Mia recognized that James had put her in the same position that she had been in ten years ago. She again had three choices: fight, flight, or submit.

  There was no well in hell that she would submit to him. Submission would be over her dead body, or his. Flight was impossible with the security in the Compound and his followers zombie-like in their loyalty. Where once, as a teenager, she had fled, her path was clear. Not only was she fighting for herself. She was fighting for everyone here who was trapped under James’s powerful charisma and evil influence.

  She was in a bathroom with no locks, alone with a stun gun, mace, her towel, and five minutes to think fast. She leaned over the sink and cupped her hand under the running facet, sucking down the puddle of cold water. She could not quench her thirst. Finally, she turned on the shower, set up her plan, and for a few seconds, she gave herself time to meditate for strength.

  She sat on the closed toilet with the shower water running and her eyes shut. She thought about Liberty Island and the story Carlo had told her. She thought about his hands rubbing the side of her face while his lips pressed firmly against hers. She sighed, looking at the cold, white bathroom where she was going to fight for her life—where evil and good were going to go head-to-head.

  Mia stood and looked into the small tin mirror firmly attached to the wall. She realized he did not use glass because this was the bathroom he used for all his subjects, not giving them motive to break the glass and use it against him. Or themselves. In the tin, she looked distorted—but even looking distorted, she could tell that she was a mess. She ran cold water in the sink and cupped her hands splashing it on her face.

  The side of her cheek still burned where he had hit her with the back of his hand. She patted it gently with the towel, looking one last time at herself, wondering if she could overpower the much heavier, sadistic man. Either way, sh
e would rather die trying to save her own life then let him touch her.

  After five minutes were up, she heard James bang on the door. She jumped back, her heart racing and her adrenaline pumping. She held the can of mace in her left hand and the stun gun in her right.

  “It’s time, you little bitch. Get out here and meet your fate.” He twisted the doorknob to the bathroom, but there was another knock at the bedroom door. She heard him talking to the guard. When his bedroom door shut, she held both her hands up, ready to attack.

  Her heart thudded louder than the shower water and over her own heavy breathing. Sweat beads started to form on her forehead, and her hands were shaking. She repeated to herself, “mace then stun gun, mace then stun gun.”

  When she heard him walking back towards the door, she braced herself. Her mouth was dry; her legs were shaky, and she told herself that she was not going to die, not today. She pressed her ear against the wall, but heard no sounds in the room. She did not dare open the door. She wanted to get him with the element of surprise; so she waited, ready to pounce.

  “Mia? Mia?” A familiar, frantic voice called out to her.

  She froze. When the door opened, she began to shake, dropping the can of mace and stun gun to the ground, her eyes filled with tears that spilled over one by one. She could not stop her body from shaking as she stared into the eyes of an angel. The room started to spin and when she began to feel her legs buckle under her, Carlo grabbed her and pulled her to him.

  “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” he asked frantically as he ran his hands over her head and face, checking her arms for wounds. “Your face—what did he do to your face?” he ran his gentle hand over her swollen, red check and then pulled her against him again, closing his eyes trying to control his anger. He wished he were there sooner to protect her from any pain she endured.

  Mia could not speak; she leaned into him and sobbed into his chest. His strong arms wrapped around her, holding her tight.

  “You came for me, even though you never wanted to see me again,” she whispered.

  His heart ached when she repeated the horrible words he said to her the night he stormed out of her apartment. “Mia, I was angry. I love you. I’m here, and I’m not leaving.” He lifted her face to look at him. “You are never leaving my sight again. Do you understand me?”

  “You’re here, you came for me,” she repeated through her sobs. “How did you find me?” she whispered.

  His voice was rough and deep, even strained. “I will always find you.” He pushed his lips against her forehead, and she closed her eyes.

  “I can’t live without you in my life,” he whispered, kissing her wet face. “I’m going to spend my life protecting you. But right now, this is not over, and we have to get you out of here.”

  Carlo wiped her face and zipped up her jacket. He was not going to let her out of his sight until they were out of the Compound—and even then, only if it were necessary. Mia saw James on the ground with a knife in his chest. Carlo covered her eyes. Although she had seen much worse, she enjoyed his protectiveness at that moment.

  “Let’s go, you guys. We’re not out of the woods yet,” Kyle said, running into the room.

  “Kyle! You’re alive,” she yelled, running over to him and hugging him close.

  “Of course, I’m alive; who do you think saved your butt?” He looked over at Carlo and smiled. Kyle was holding a pistol with more confidence then he should have had.

  When Carlo arrived at the compound, he spotted Miesha, who filled him in on everything that had happened. She told him about the Compound and its structure. When they started to hear people running through the fields, Miesha gave Carlo chain cutters, and he cut the chains around the gate.

  When Carlo ran through the gate, he saw the guard unconscious on the ground. Because of the bright lights on the trucks, he needed a different angle to take out the truck drivers and gunners. He yelled at Mia’s family to run to the right. As the trucks started to turn, Carlo shouted to the drivers to slow the vehicles, and then he took out the two gunmen.

  Kyle was determined to go back in and save his sister, so Carlo gave him quick lessons on shooting a gun. He was a natural, feeling comfortable and confident. Now he stood there, holding the weapon as if it was his pride and joy.

  “Mom and Dad?” she fearfully asked.

  “They’re fine. Come on, let’s get out of here. Can we do all of this lovey-dovey stuff and checking on each other, later?” Kyle anxiously asked.

  Mia stopped Carlo. “What about the people in the village?” she asked with an ocean of concern.

  “They’ll be fine. We contacted the FBI, and they will be here soon,” he whispered in her ear. “There will be a big debriefing by a team of cult experts.”

  She felt the warmth of his breath, and felt relieved that he was there and she was in his arms. When she looked over to her right, she saw Joshua holding his six-year-old daughter in his arms and nodded toward her. Mia smiled back.

  They ran through the fields toward the front gate. When she made it, just outside, she ran into her parents’ arms. They hugged and kissed her.

  “I’m so glad you’re okay,” Angela cried.

  Carlo watched Mia with her family. He stayed close to her, not willing to let her out of his sight. After a few minutes, the ambulance arrived to take them to a local hospital for evaluation.

  Carlo held Mia’s hand as she stepped up into the ambulance. “I don’t want you to go without me, but I have to wait for the FBI.”

  “I’ll be okay.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he pulled her close to him.

  He softly kissed her lips. “If they release you all tonight, take your family home and I will be there tomorrow morning.”

  She nodded and got into the back of the ambulance. She smiled at Miesha when she saw her in the distance. Miesha gave her two thumbs up.

  Carlo stood there, watching the ambulance pull away with the woman he hopelessly loved. Even with everything she had just been through, she had asked him about the others in the Compound. She was, without a doubt, the woman she claimed to be. He planned to love her for as long as she would have him.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The perking sound of coffee echoed through her small apartment. Mia sat on the couch twirling an empty coffee mug, waiting for the brew to finish. Her mind wandered over the events of the past few weeks.

  The knock at her front door made her smile. She knew he would be there, just as he promised, coming to see her, so that they could talk. When she opened the door, he handed her a single red rose, and hugged her tightly before she said anything. When he released her, he glanced in the apartment. “It’s quiet. Where is everyone?”

  “I wasn’t exactly prepared to feed everyone so Miesha, Tania, and Fredrick took them out to breakfast. I needed some quiet time and I wanted to wait for you, so we could talk.”

  Carlo grabbed her again, without saying a word, and kissed her with passion and fervor. “Before you say anything, I need to tell you something.”

  He walked her into the living room and sat her down on the couch. He kneeled beside her and took her hands. “I’m sorry for the things I said to you on the night I found the urn. I was, well, I was shocked, hurt, disappointed, and angry. I said those things from the middle of all those emotions combined. I can’t take back what happened, but I can promise you that I will never let that happen again.”

  Mia looked down at their hands intertwined. She had forgotten about those words. He had saved her life and showed her how much he loved her by his actions. She did not think she would ever see him again; and yet, he showed up when she needed him the most. How could she remember the words he said in a moment of anger?

  “Please tell me you forgive me,” he whispered, searching her brown eyes.

  She nodded. “You were forgiven the moment you said them,” she said, leaning in to him and pressing her lips against his soft, full lips. He hugged her tight and got up off the floor to sit next to
her on the couch.

  “I wanted to tell you that I ran into Jose a week ago.”

  “You did?”

  “Yes, he was with his dad. His father wanted me to thank you for taking care of his family.”

  “They’re okay?” she asked.

  “Yes, he was serving our country, and because of a mix-up with the direct deposit of his military pay, his wife and children ended up on the streets. You did a good thing, my love.”

  “We did a good thing, Carlo.” She smiled at him.

  “With enough time, I’m going to learn from you to be the best man I can be.” He kissed her gently on the lips.