by Kylie Parker
She shook her head no and looked at the ground.
“Then shut up and put your hands behind your back. If he comes for you. he is not getting you easily.” The man was rough when he snapped the metal cuffs on her wrist, around a metal pipe, and onto her other wrist, cinching it tight.
Selena’s eyes shot up and met his. Lawrence was alive! Not knowing what to say and fearing his response she looked away again straining against her tight arms and trying to take a deep breath. The room went dark, and she counted the light bubbles dancing in front of her eyes. Feeling nauseous the realization that even Lawrence couldn’t save her was swirling in waves. Squeezing her eyes shut she forced herself to breathe. She counted herself inhaling and exhaling, forgetting where she was and what she was involved in. Just sitting, focused on breathing, she began to relax. As she relaxed, she tried to formulate a plan that didn’t involve relying on anyone. If she talked these guys into letting her go or slipped away quietly somehow what could she do then? She had no idea where she was but even if she made it home she couldn’t quietly slip into her old life. Work was building up to be a nightmare, and she couldn’t claim to be investigating undercover and blow the whole story. Even if she knew what it was, she had signed a contract with Lawrence, legally and with her heart. She would never sell him out no matter how bad it got, no matter what she found out about him.
“Shit.” Oops, Selena spoke out loud. Hopefully, no one heard her.
Moments later the door opened, and two men came in. They didn’t look at her as they unlocked her from the pipe and stood her on her feet.
“Move.” One said and pushed her.
She followed where she was guided, out the door and to her left. Down a long hallway with fluorescent lights hanging from the roof. There were doors on each side of the hallway all the way down. Presumably more cells like the one she was in. Hell, this one hallway could fit more than 25 people. Selena wondered how many were there with her. The thought made her shudder. At the end of the hallway, there was a door marked EXIT. The two men opened the door bright lights shone at her from three different sources. The men grabbed the sheet wrapped around her and pulled then pushed her out the door. Naked, exposed and hearing many people but seeing none, Selena covered herself and stood still.
Chapter Forty-Two
Time stopped and after what seemed like an eternity a shadow walked toward her. Wrapping her in a blanket, W picked her up and carried her away, briefly touching the angry cut on her cheek. Selena closed her eyes, feeling safe yet unsure. She could hear his heart pounding. Looking around she noticed more men, mostly with guns. Before she could speak or get a good look, W climbed up some stairs and carried her onto an airplane. Taking her to a private room, he set her down and looked her up and down.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?” His brows wrinkled with concern. Not waiting for an answer he opened a nearby cupboard and pulled out a towel, sheet, and small first aid kit.
“I am fine,” Selena said, covering herself with the towel. She sounded harsh and felt bad. “Thank you, W.” She put her hand on his; he pulled away.
“Good. Get some rest.” The rest of his words buzzed through her ears as they popped. The plane was taking off. From wherever to wherever, at this point, she could be on the moon and have no idea.
W left, and Selena leaned back on the soft plush bed. When the door opened again, it was Lawrence, and he rushed over to her pulling her into his arms. He was wearing a soft shirt and it felt like heaven.
“This has gotten carried away, and I am sorry you are involved.” Lawrence kissed her softly and looked sad.
“It was your brother,” Selena said, and Lawrence hushed her, looking toward the door.
“It is complicated, and we can’t speak about it here. We can’t speak about it anywhere really. Oh, Selena, it has only just begun, but I am getting you somewhere safe. For now, let me hold you. I need to feel close to you.” Lawrence inhaled sharply and held her tighter.
In disjointed conversations for the next hour, or more Selena lost track of time, Lawrence explained that he was taking her to a safe house. She had to stay there without him; for how long, she didn’t know. Nowhere was safe and Lawrence couldn’t be sure what would happen. So when they landed he was saying goodbye. He kissed her tears with a gleam in his eye.
Later, in her room, on the hard plank bed, Selena shook her head at how she ended up here. He promised to come back for her when it was safe but could not guarantee when that would be. For Selena, who had finally become the sexual submissive she loved to be, living in a convent, with no sex at all was going to be very difficult.
She had been given a laptop with a secure connection. It gave the impression that she was still in North America to whoever traced her signal so she could talk to her parents. And deal with work. That one she was avoiding. Still, she finally got up the courage up to email her editor. Surprised to see a message from him she opened it to see an exclusive article for the next edition. It was about Scriva industries and their connection to criminal activity. Below the article was a short message from her boss. “You’re fired. Effective immediately.”
Chapter Forty-Three
Selena was shocked beyond belief. Yes, she was trying to avoid work, but she still loved her job. Becoming a reporter was her childhood dream. Certainly, her editor had to have a very good reason for letting go, the star in his team. At any rate, Selena had to find something to do in that unfamiliar place. First of all, she had to find out where she actually was. She could talk things through with her editor, even though she knew that it would be really hard to change his mind.
Luckily for her, when she stepped outside, Selena saw a middle-aged nun coming her way, walking on a narrow pathway, in the middle of a sizeable rose garden. The convent she was in was surrounded by tall elm trees and lush vegetation, as far as the eye could see.
“Selena Grier…” The nun said with a grin. “Your reputation precedes you. You must have quite a lot of questions.”
“Yes, I do…” Selena tried to return the smile, but, still in shock by the news of her dismissal from work, she couldn’t. “You know my name. What’s yours?”
“Well…” The nun averted her gaze from her and sucked in a deep breath. “That’s quite a long story, really. I… was Emily Santoro. Now, my name is Sister Rebecca. I am Lawrence’s cousin. You see, it’s not easy for our… enemies to track us down here.”
“And where is… ‘here,' exactly?” Selena asked in hesitation.
“We are in Santa Clara Monastery, California,” Rebecca replied. You may have noticed that it’s… much warmer than New York. By the way, I should get you a habit. You can’t wear regular clothes here.”
Selena took a moment to gaze at her surroundings. Rebecca was telling the truth: It was quite a hot day, it had to be at least eighty-five degrees. The sun was shining in the sky, and she felt really hot in her jeans and her thick, purple sweater.
“Oh…” She gasped. “Thanks. Where is Lawrence? Have you heard from him?” The mere mention of her cousin’s name wiped the smile off of Rebecca’s face.
“Come, sweetheart.” She sighed. “Follow me.”
“Why won’t you tell me?”
“Because I don’t know, Selena…!” Rebecca exclaimed. “Even if I did, I don’t think I should be discussing it with you.”
“Why?” Selena squinted at her, feeling her blood boil in her veins. “Is there something… fundamentally wrong with me? I mean, I… deserve an explanation, don’t you think?”
“Fine…” The nun sighed once more. “I will tell you more about it, but first, we need to find you that habit. Come with me.”
“Ok…” Selena reluctantly agreed. Rebecca turned around and headed towards the exit of the garden. The two women turned right and within minutes, they were entering the main Monastery building. It somehow reminded Selena of Lawrence’s place. She soon found herself in one large hall after another, until Rebecca opened the door to a much smaller
room, filled with closets.
“Here…” She said, offering Selena a habit. “I think you will find this really comfortable.”
“Thank you…” Selena took it in her hands. “Um, can I ask you something else?”
“Yes, dear. What is it?”
“What do nuns… do? I mean, other than… pray and all. Do they… play games?” Selena asked.
“We do play some games. ‘Scrabble’ is our favorite.” Rebecca’s response made Selena want to leave that place immediately. She was terribly bored of board games.
“I see. Well, thanks again.” She chirped, leaving Rebecca behind.
“Selena…” Rebecca’s voice forced her to stop. “I know that this life must sound really dull to a young girl like you. But, you need to stay here. It’s for your own safety. You asked me a question earlier. Have you forgotten about that?”
“No.” Selena murmured, turning to Rebecca. “Where is Lawrence?”
“It’s… rather complicated.” Rebecca said with a nod. “He’s on his way to a meeting with all the mob bosses in the United States. Frankly…?” Rebecca paused and squeezed her lips. “I don’t know if he’s coming back or not.”
“What?” Selena couldn’t hide her fear. “Why?”
“Because those meetings usually don’t end so well. Mob bosses are not so famous for their… patience.” Rebecca explained. “He told me he wanted out, a few days ago. But, I don’t think they’re going to let him. You see, he was born into this family. It was his fate in life to become a criminal.”
“Did he say ‘why’?” Selena went on.
“He didn’t, but I guess it has to do with… you.” Rebecca said in a low tone. “You can go back to your quarters now, my dear. Please, make sure you wear your habit at all times.”
“I will…” Selena agreed. “Thanks a lot.”
Back in her room, she couldn’t help but question Lawrence’s motives. If Rebecca’s instinct was right, then she had had a much greater impact on his life than she could have ever imagined. Leaving that life behind was a great sacrifice on his behalf. Still, Selena wondered about the kiss she had to exchange with W. What was that all about? Why did she have to do it?
She put on the habit, recalling a few of the many passionate moments she had had with Lawrence so far. The soft fabric was smooth to the touch. At the same time, though, it woke up the naughty girl inside her. However, she was too worried about him to even consider touching herself, not to mention that doing that in such a holy place was a big no-no. Selena tried to focus on other things, like what she would say to her editor.
“I need to get back there and set a few things straight…” She said to herself. “But not without my Lawrence. I can always get another job. Nothing is more important than our relationship.”
Chapter Forty-Four
Lawrence and W arrived at “Paolo’s”, a fancy, Italian restaurant on the outskirts of Miami. Unable to shake the feeling that every mob boss was going to tell him off on his actions, especially the elderly Don Giancarlo Emmanuelle (The Boss of Bosses, as they used to call him), Lawrence was very anxious. W preferred to keep his mouth shut. He even smiled politely at his boss, upon opening his door. The restaurant was closed to the public that afternoon.
“Will, what do you think?” Lawrence asked, straightening his jacket.
“You look pretty good…” Will teased him.
“I don’t mean that…!” Lawrence got upset. “Do you think they’ll be mad at me?”
“You’ve taken… precautions, haven’t you?” Will answered his question with a question.
“Yeah…”
“Good for you.” Will went on. “So have I. It’s going to get rowdy in there…”
“Let’s get this over with…” Lawrence said in his authoritative tone and made his way to the massive, oaken, front door of “Paolo’s.” Don Emmanuelle was sat at the head of the long, rectangular table, with his consultant Michael Stevens, standing on his left. Following protocol, Lawrence paid his respects to the Don and took a seat at the table, next to his brother, Vincent, on Don’s left. Will would wait for him at the door.
“Gentlemen, welcome…” Stevens spoke, as the last boss, Victor Manucelli, joined the small group. “We are gathered here to discuss a few problems. More importantly, the murder of Victor Manucelli’s men by Luis Santoro’s crew.”
“Luigi (Italian for ‘Lewis’)…” the Don said in his usual, high-pitched tone. “You know very well that ‘made’ members are untouchable. You needed permission for that, but you never asked. Why?”
“Don Emmanuelle, I’m really sorry for what happened,” Lawrence replied. “They had kidnapped my girlfriend.”
At the sound of Lawrence’s excuse, the rest of the table burst into laughter. The Don wasn’t amused. Instead, he looked troubled.
“Luigi, I’ve known your family since before you were born.” Don Emmanuelle continued. “I grew up with your grandpa in Sicily. I would probably be more lenient with you if you were married to her. We honor family. But, killing five men for a girl is unforgivable.”
“One of them was my nephew, you son of a bitch!” Manucelli interjected, jumping from his seat. “I’ll see you dead for this, Santoro!”
“Let’s keep it civil…” Stevens advised.
“Civil…?” Manucelli squinted at him. “My nephew’s dead!”
“We know…” Stevens assured him.
“Don, if I may…” Lawrence raised his right hand in the air.
“Go ahead…” Stephens nodded at him. Lawrence slowly rose from his seat.
“Again, I am very sorry for what happened.” He started his short speech. “I shouldn’t have done it, at least not before I talked to the Don about it. But, in my defense, it all happened very fast. I didn’t know if… Manucelli’s men had hurt her in any way. I had to get her out of that place.”
“They hadn’t laid a finger on her…!” Manucelli yelled.
“I’m not done yet!” Lawrence had had enough of his interruptions. “Don, I want out. I don’t want this life anymore. I want to settle down.”
The table burst into laughter for the second time. Don Emmanuelle was starting to get desperate. He put his head in his hands.
“You can’t do that, Luigi. You know that…” He said, in a firm tone. Manucelli rose from his seat and approached the Don. He whispered something in his right ear. The Don nodded and put his hands on the table before he got up himself.
“I’ll be seeing you, gentlemen…” He waved and went to the right, towards the kitchen. Then, Manucelli pulled a gun out of the left pocket of his jacket and pointed it at Lawrence.
“For Joe...” He whispered. Before he could squeeze the trigger, a gunshot rocked the restaurant. Will had shot him in the wrist. Manucelli let out a loud cry of pain, as Lawrence and the rest of the bosses literally jumped from their seats and ran towards the exit. Will rushed outside, waiting for his boss. Manucelli’s crew opened fire upon Lawrence. He didn’t have time to reach for his gun. Several bullets hissed past him, as he bobbed and weaved instinctively. Lawrence made it to the front door. Will grabbed him by the arm and the two men started running towards his limo. Meanwhile, Manucelli’s men also got out. A hail of bullets hissed past Lawrence and Will, hitting several of the other cars parked next to his limo. He opened the door and jumped in the passenger seat. His limousine was bulletproof, but if Manucelli’s men destroyed the tires, it would all be over in seconds. Will started the engine and set the car in reverse. He crashed it into an oncoming SUV and sent it a few feet to the right, before he put his foot hard down on the accelerator and violently turned right, towards the exit of the restaurant. Upon reaching it, Will turned left, to a downhill road. Within seconds, though, the two men realized that they were not out of harm’s way just yet. A navy-blue SUV and a limo were chasing them.
“What the fuck…!” Lawrence yelled. “The Don just sanctioned my death!”
“You know what that means…” Will said, overtaking
a small, blue Ford. “It’s either you or Manucelli…” He went on, facing Lawrence this time.
“Let’s shake those pricks for starters…” Lawrence said, looking over his left shoulder. “They’re gaining on us…”
“This limo’s a bit too big for this…” Will complained, swerving to the right, avoiding a large truck. “I don’t think we’re going to make it.”
“Just keep driving…” Lawrence said, noticing that they were even closer. The SUV was no more than twenty feet behind them. A man in the back seat jumped in the trunk. Lawrence froze, as soon as he saw him emerging with a large, antitank tube in his hands.
“Fuck!” He screamed at the top of his lungs. Lawrence then looked in front of them. There was a rig, barely fifty feet away from his limo, as the road straightened.
“Will…” He tried to keep his voice down, placing his left hand on his driver’s shoulder. “You have to overtake that rig.”
Will didn’t speak. He looked in his rearview mirror and saw for himself the reason why he had to do such a thing. At that moment, the man that Lawrence had earlier seen with the antitank tube had just popped the trunk open.
“Fuck, no!” He yelled and put his foot down on the gas even harder, swerving to the left. The opposite lane was clear. Steadily, Lawrence’s limo reached the rig and began to overtake it. Will kept glancing at the SUV behind them and at the rig, one at a time. Manucelli’s man was now aiming at them, holding onto the left side of the SUV and with the antitank tube on his right shoulder. Will swerved violently to the right, in front of the rig, before he and Lawrence heard a deafening, banging noise. Right before their car was thrown forward, Will caught a glimpse of a flash in the rearview mirror. The dump trailer of the rig was blown up to smithereens and every glass on the tractor was shattered. The trucker lost control of his vehicle. It rolled onto its right side, as the burning trailer blocked the view and the path of vehicles on both lanes.
