Breaking Midnight (Il Paradosso Series Book One)

Chapter two

Venturing into the unknown was the result of trespassing onto subversive territory.

I awoke to a terrible pounding in my head and a feeling of extreme nausea. My eyelids were heavy, pressed under a cloth material and the tape over my mouth held a strong odor. Handcuffs dug mercilessly into both of my wrists, with my arms behind my back, making it difficult to move.

I gagged, feeling my stomach turn. Ejecta of vomit traveled its way up my throat. The awful smell of the tape was going to cause a choking hazard as it became difficult to breathe.

It was ripped off with a subtle force. Not able to control the convulsion any longer, I twisted to the side and threw up.

"Fanculo!"

I ceased movement.

Discerning that I wasn't alone, my attention perked at a woman's irritated voice. It sounded anything but friendly.

"If you even think about throwing up on me, I swear, I'll tear your eyes out of their sockets."

And it seemed she wasn't too pleased by the incivility of my gag-flex.

My mind was groggy.

I had difficulties comprehending what was happening. Where was I? Who was this woman? I hadn't been drinking last night.

Or had I?

My memory was a blur of events from the night before: me at the diner helping Norman and Ramona; Norman listening to that awful record player, driving his wife crazy. What else had I missed?

Oh, holy fuck. The eruption of gunfire. Their bodies in the back alley. They were dead.

A hand gripped my arm and pulled me up with force, only for me to fall back down, hitting a rough surface.

"Stupida troia! You smell like shit! Get up or I'll drag you by your hair this time!"

Wait, was that Italian? Did she just call me a stupid slut?

I didn't know much of the language, but enough to identify the bad words my friends and I had often used to mess around with each other.

And the fact that they were suckers for Italian men.

How ironic when I'd spent the majority of my life avoiding them. I relinquished from walking the same path, along the dark trail that my mother had so brazenly established.

It had been a struggle, but miraculously, I wasn't lying in a pool of my own blood yet. I couldn't say the same for the people that I worked for.

I tried getting on to my knees, but it was a lot harder to stand up with my hands restrained behind my back. I managed to stand to my feet and maintain a moment of balance but my legs kept buckling underneath me.

"Walk," the woman said, poking me in the back to push me forward. I was shoved into a wall, banging my forehead. I nearly fell backwards as I could barely stand up straight. My head was throbbing with excruciating pain.

I was held against the wall, the woman speaking from behind me in a warning tone, "You remove the blindfold from your eyes only when you hear the door shut. Am I clear, puttana?"

Why don't you kiss my tired ass, lady?

I nodded my head slightly, trying to fight back the urge to elbow her.

"Once I remove your handcuffs, you have five minutes to clean up your mess, and if I so much as sense you're making the wrong move; I will put a bullet right through your fuckin' head."