by A. G. Khaliq
“Seriously dude, you've got issues,” Harry spat bitterly. “Elizabeth is my girlfriend, and since you pretty much stalk Maya every hour of the day, she couldn't cheat on you even if she wanted to.”
“You little…” Fibonacci balled his hand into a fist, his veins pulsing on the surface of his skin alarmingly.
Harry was playing a dangerous game, getting on his wrong side. A very, very dangerous game…
Elizabeth rolled her eyes, with a pissed-off expression on her face. “I'm not sticking around to listen to this petty shit,” she muttered angrily.
“Let's go, Harry. Are you coming or not, Maya?”
I let out a sigh. I wanted so badly to go with her, but I knew that if I did, Fibonacci would punish me when I got home…
And that wasn’t something that I wanted him to do. I was tired of it. Tired of being made to feel worthless by him, like everything was my fault…
“No, I should stay with Fibonacci,” I mumbled.
“Suit yourself,” Harry shot back 145
exhaustedly. “It’s your own life you’re ruining with that creep. Don’t say that we didn’t try with you.”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes again, shaking her head at me disappointedly. Both her and Harry turned on their heels, walking away from the soccer field, leaving me alone with Fibonacci.
As soon as they were out of sight and ear-shot, Fibonacci spun me around, and slapped my face, hard. My hand sprung to my face as it stung, and tears began sliding down my cheeks.
“What kind of girlfriend are you?!”
Fibonacci screamed. “You don't even defend me in my absence! You sick, twisted bitch.”
I said nothing. I felt a lump in my throat, and my mouth felt like it had gone dry. I was in too much pain mentally to even get a word out.
“Let's go home,” Fibonacci snapped angrily.
“N – No,” I stammered.
“What?” Fibonacci asked quietly. “What did you just fucking say to me?!”
“I don't want to go home yet,” I mumbled timidly, tears continuing to fall down my cheeks.
“My finals are coming up, I need to study, Fibonacci…”
“DO YOU THINK I GIVE A FLYING
FUCK?!” Fibonacci roared. “You're coming 146
home with me NOW! Right this fucking INSTANT!”
I clutched my chest in terror, my whole body trembling into a frenzy. I didn’t know what to say, or what to do…
“You should have studied earlier, instead of wasting time on this pathetic soccer match!”
Fibonacci scolded, spitting at my face.
“Fibonacci, you've been drinking…” I said uneasily.
“So you're accusing me of being an alcoholic now?!” Fibonacci balled his hand into a fist, shaking it angrily. “That's it!”
He punched me hard at the back of my head, knocking me down to the ground. He clambered on top of me, grabbing hold of me by my shirt, and began dragging me across the soccer pitch, making his way to his car boot as I faded in and out of unconsciousness.
My surroundings continued to blur around me. I could barely keep my eyes open…
And then…
Everything went black.
Complete darkness…
And I never saw the light of day again.
I jolted upwards from my sleep, waking up in a 147
bundle of sweat and tears. I began to scream, rocking myself backwards and forwards as I sobbed.
“Stop it, Fibonacci…” I pleaded. “Please, stop…”
Tears continued to roll down my cheeks, as I began to regain consciousness, and alertness of my surroundings.
It was just a dream.
Another dream…
And he wasn’t here.
Thank God he wasn’t here…
Another nightmare…
Why couldn't I just shut him from my damn mind?!
My heart hammered against my chest. I stared out of the window, to see that it was a bright, sunny new day. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion, taking my phone out from the bedside table. I held it out in front of my face, and then dropped it in shock.
I’d slept in…
And now, I was going to be late for work!
I sighed exhaustedly, pissed off at myself for not setting an alarm, and letting my bad dreams get the better of me. I needed to stop letting these flashbacks get in the way of me living my fucking life…
148
I took a deep breath in, and then made my way to the bathroom. I stood in front of the sink, staring at myself in the mirror as I brushed my teeth. I looked and felt like fucking death.
With the way that I spoke to Mr Abruzzi at the club the other night…
I'd definitely put myself in his bad books.
And it was going to be so fucking awkward seeing him.
I spat out the toothpaste foam into the sink, and then rinsed my mouth out with mouthwash.
“I should apologise to him,” I mumbled to myself. “Because while I'm working at Indigo Limited, I don't want there to be any bad blood between us.”
I felt stupid for letting my emotions get in the way. I was supposed to be keeping Donte on my good side for the sake of the mission, and I’d already fucked things up six ways to Sunday. I couldn’t face Donte after the way that I humiliated him in the club. I felt so embarrassed and ashamed of myself.
“I'm too damn embarrassed to face work today. I'm just going to call in sick,” I sighed, and whipped out my phone to send the receptionist Sainabou a quick message.
Feeling ill.
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Won't be coming to work today.
I rolled my eyes and dusted myself off. A sudden sound of my doorbell snapped me out of my thoughts. I wondered who the hell it could be, at this time in the morning?
I made my way to my door, and opened it to see a man wearing a red t-shirt and black jeans standing there.
“Can I help you?” I shrugged.
“I'm the postman, Miss,” he greeted, smiling. “You have a letter.”
He folded an envelope into my hands, before turning on his heel and walking away from my apartment.
“Thank you!” I called out, and then shut the door, making my way back to my living room.
I opened the envelope, and jolted backwards in shock.
There were some more notes, case files and photographs…
I was assuming that they were from Boss.
I flicked through the different pieces of paper, and felt my blood run cold.
There had been more murders!
I needed to get my gear on…
I'd spent enough time settling in, and now it was time to dig in and tackle all of this shit. I’d 150
spent too much time slacking, and I hadn’t even started investigating it.
I held out the case studies, reading the descriptions of the people that had been murdered.
The first picture was of a young black child, with scruffy, rugged black hair, and he was wearing a red t-shirt paired with black trousers. The Crime Scene images showed him horrifically lying down in the middle of a street, with a gunshot wound in his chest, and a pool of blood around his body.
TERRY ROBERTS.
10 years old.
Shot and robbed.
Known to sell drugs in his school.
Deceased.
The second picture was of a white woman with bright red hair, freckles and slender blue eyes.
Her entire body was covered with purple bruises, and her face had been burnt from acid being poured on her.
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RUBY ALLEN.
35 years old.
Beaten and raped.
Known to be in debt.
Deceased.
The last image was of a white man, who had white bubbles frothing out of his mouth in the photograph. He’d snorted so much cocaine… So much cocaine. I could feel my blood run cold as I read his description.
BRATVA BOULEVARD.
25 years old.
Know
n debt, overdosed on drugs to take his life to eliminate this debt.
Known to have several mental health conditions.
Deceased.
I felt sick to my stomach. Women were being raped and murdered, and men were killing themselves because they were so depressed as a result of their debts getting so huge, that they didn’t see any other solution…
Enough was fucking enough. I took several deep breaths in and out, and then turned 152
on my heel, making my way to my desk, ready to devise a plan as to how I was going to begin gathering evidence against the Russian Mafia.
153
20
donte
I stood in my kitchen, drinking cup after cup of alcohol, allowing it to burn down my throat. I was drinking so much to the point I felt fucking sick. But I wouldn’t stop. Cup after cup, cup after cup…
I needed to numb my pain. I needed to try and forget about Sapphire, after how badly she fucking spoke about me. I needed to move on, find another woman to pursue.
I was so pissed off at myself…
154
So fucking pissed off.
“WHY CAN’T I STOP FUCKING
THINKING ABOUT HER?!” I roared.
I punched the wall angrily, pleading her to leave my body and brain. I continued to sip from the cup, pissed off and agitated. By now, I was so angry, that my eyes began brimming with tears.
I wanted to blame all of my reckless behaviour on my bruised ego, but I couldn’t. I was more bothered by the fact that Sapphire thought I was a fucking monster, when the only people I’d killed in my life were rapists and paedophiles. And how could she even come to that conclusion or assumption, when she only knew me as her boss at Indigo Limited? She knew nothing about my Mafia involvement, so none of this was making any fucking sense to me.
She said that she could see it in my eyes…
And that was screwing with my mind more than it fucking should. I should have been ignoring her, going down to my strip club to get fucked and forget about everything, but I couldn’t. The only woman who’d ever rejected me in my lifetime saw me as scum.
Did I really come across as such an intimidating, terrifying motherfucker?
My mom ran into the room, with a terrified and worried expression on her face, that 155
snapped me out of my thoughts. I figured that she probably heard me screaming. She took my face into her hands, forcing me to calm down. I could never stay mad when my Mom spoke to me.
Never…
She had the sweetest and kindest soul. She was so caring and loving, and I didn’t know what I’d do without her. Everything that I was doing in my life, I was doing for her sake, as well as my father’s…
“Donte, are you okay?” Mom murmured.
I rolled my eyes. I was far from okay.
“Fine, Ma,” I sighed.
“What's wrong, baby?” Mom asked exhaustedly. “Talk to me.”
“What good will it do?” I shot back, dusting myself off and throwing the cup in the washing-up bowl.
“Would this have anything to do with the girl that your brothers have been talking about?”
Mom asked uneasily.
“Leave off it, Ma,” I replied exhaustedly. I really, really didn’t want to talk about it, because the more I talked about her, the more I wouldn’t be able to get her off my damn mind…
“Donte, what happened?” Mom asked worriedly.
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I sighed agitatedly. “I tried so hard with her, Ma,” I said timidly, tears pricking in my eyes. “Made such an effort to get to know her, to show her how special I think she is, to try and get a date with her…
“And she spoke to me like I'm some piece of shit on the ground. Like I'm a fucking monster!”
I shook my head angrily, running my hands through my hair in frustration.
“Did she give you a reason as to why she behaved that way?” Mom asked wearily.
“No!” I shot back bitterly. “One minute she's all flirty and nervous and chatty, the next, she acts like she doesn't want to know me!” I broke off my sentence, exasperated.
“Maybe she's been hurt by men in the past, and she's afraid to let you in,” Mom tried, taking a deep breath in. “Don't stop trying son…
I know how women work, she just needs reassurance before she puts her walls down again.”
“I'm not gonna chase her like a damn dog forever,” I blustered seethingly. “I'm sorry Ma, but I respect myself. I know my value, and I won't allow myself to be spoken to like shit. She made her choice.”
“Okay son, if that's what you want,” Mom 157
mumbled quakingly.
“It's just weird, how it hurts so much,” I muttered. “Like, I barely know her, but I feel for her as if I've been married to her for 15 years.” I broke off my sentence, trying my best to stop myself from crying. “I can't stand seeing her with other men, and I'm so attracted to her.”
“Oh, Donte…”
“But I'm not going to chase her,” I shrugged, shaking my head. “Because I know now that she doesn't want me. I'm going to move on.”
“I'm sorry, son,” Mom sighed. “I knew how much you wanted to get out of this arranged marriage.”
I furrowed my eyebrows, bugging out as she said this. “I couldn't give a fuck about this marriage,” I shot back bitterly, curling my lip. “I don't give a fuck if I have to marry Sharon anymore. Maybe a new woman is what I need to help me move on.”
Mom folded her arms in disbelief. I was making a rash decision, but I didn’t fucking care.
I was hurting too much to care right now…
“I'll marry her, Ma.”
“Don't make any rash decisions, son,”
Mom frowned. “Once you say yes to the marriage, there's no going back.”
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“I don't have anything to go back to,” I muttered.
Mom glared at me, knowing better than to protest whenever I had my mind stuck on something. I’d made up my mind. I knew that I was no saint, no fucking santo myself, but that didn’t mean that I was going to allow a woman to shit all over me, and treat me like I was worthless. I’d never hurt or played a woman before in my life. I respected women, because my mother raised me teaching me the value and worth of these queens…
Whenever I hooked up with a woman, I always made sure to lay out all of the cards on the table, to make sure that we were both on the same page, to avoid the girl from getting hurt. I always made sure that they knew what they were getting into, that it was just sex, and nothing more, and that I wouldn’t be able to offer them commitment. Sharon was the only woman who’d ignored the shit I said, but that wasn’t down to me. I’d done my fucking part, and given her a warning.
I wouldn’t sleep with a woman knowing that they had feelings for me, and lead them on unintentionally, knowing that I would probably end up hurting their feelings.
So I wasn’t about to make myself 159
miserable over a woman who didn’t respect me.
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21
maya
A FEW DAYS LATER
My chest heaved upwards and downwards as I slept, and the nightmare continued to take its course…
As soon as we got home after Fibonacci had dragged me off of the soccer field, I found myself 161
awaking from my unconsciousness. Fibonacci was dragging me by the ear to the punishment room, where the cage was. He threw me into the cage with such force, that I fell to the ground with a hard and painful smack.
“You're staying in here f o r e v e r,”
Fibonacci spat angrily. “You're not going to university anymore. From now on, you'll be under my 24/7 surveillance!”
He broke off of his sentence, as he let out a blood-curdling scream, and shook his fists in rage. He was so angry…
So damn fucking angry.
He turned on his heel, bolting away from me. He walked to the other side of the punishment room, glaring at me with those bitter, piercing eyes of his,
whilst he drank some alcohol from a beer can.
I lay on the floor exhaustedly, my head feeling like it was about to split open, because it was searing in pain. I couldn’t accept this as my fate. I couldn’t live the rest of my life like this, trapped in a cage, in terror, in fear.
Harry and Elizabeth were right…
I couldn't keep living like this.
But if Fibonacci was planning to keep me locked here forever now,
How the hell was I going to get out of 162
here?!
God knows what would happen to me if I stayed here…
He would beat me, rape me, torture me…
Or even kill me.
God knows what he would do.
I couldn't believe that I was so stupid to put up with him for so long…
I guessed I was scared…
Too scared to tell anybody what really went on behind closed doors,
Aside from the ways that he stalked me whenever I was in public.
I was terrified of what he was capable of, Terrified that he would hurt the people that I loved…
A single tear slid down my cheek, as I thought about my mother. How would I make sure that she was looked after when I wasn’t there, if I was here in this cage with Fibonacci?
Enough was enough.
I had nothing left to lose now…
If Fibonacci loved me, he wouldn’t treat me like this. He wouldn’t make me feel like I deserved this. He wouldn’t make me feel like everything was my fault.
I was tired of sacrificing my sanity for the sake of my love for Fibonacci. I needed to let him 163
go, and I needed to move on with my life without him…
I would either die in here, or I would die trying to escape.
I would take my fucking chances.
I kneeled inside of the cage, rattling with the bars, trying to find a way to make my way out of here.
The bars seemed pretty solid…
Until I rattled a little more, and realized…
that the door was loose.
My heart hammered against my ribcage, as I clutched my chest in fear. Fibonacci hadn’t locked the cage properly, because he’d been so drunk. This could be my only chance to escape…
