Entangled Hearts

Chapter 4: The Deal

My mind was racing at a hundred miles an hour, but my mouth remained sealed shut. I wanted to explain myself, to tell them everything—beg, cry, and pray that they would let me go—but my tongue refused to obey. It was paralyzed, as if controlled by the same brain-freeze gripping my thoughts. My eyes obeyed too, fixating on my trembling hands, my heart pounding heavily in my chest. Even though I couldn't see Leonardo's piercing gaze, I could feel it drilling into the top of my skull, as if he were reading my thoughts and calculating his next move.

"Fine. Kill her," he said, motioning to his brother.

"WAIT!" I shouted, using every last bit of air in my chest. The shout was more powerful and terrifying than I had expected.

"I..." I murmured, finally looking up again. The alleyway seemed darker and grittier, as if the walls had absorbed the deaths that had taken place there. I looked at the brothers one by one, trying my best not to glance at the bodies lying next to me. I wanted to find a good place to start my story, but I didn't know how. I could sense their impatience growing, especially in the youngest brother.

"I am Fatima," I said quietly, as if their demeanor would shatter if I spoke too loudly.

"We don't give a f*** about your f***** name," the youngest brother sneered, moving closer to me. I pulled back and gasped. "Were you sent here by the Demici's to spy on us?" he shouted again, spitting all over my face.

"No!" I cried, my voice trembling as I closed my eyes, feeling him inch closer. "No, I don't know what you're talking about. I came here looking for a donor for my father. Please, I've done nothing wrong," I pleaded, looking desperately into each of their eyes. They all seemed indifferent to my crying and begging, except perhaps the oldest, Enzo. The most perplexing look was Leonardo's—I couldn't quite pinpoint it, but something wasn't right.

"Elaborate," Leonardo commanded, his voice icy and precise. So I rambled, giving them a play-by-play of everything that had happened, keeping my eyes on Enzo, who seemed to be the warmest of them—cold, but warmer than the others.

"I'm from America. My father is sick and needs a kidney donor. That's how I met Tello—he was going to come back with me to America to donate his kidney. I don't know anything else about him, or about this business with the Dertrisi or whatever their name is. Please, I just want to go home." I don't think I had ever looked so desperate in my entire twenty-seven years of life. All I could think about was how foolish this entire trip had been, and how stupid I was for believing it could work. I'm in a completely different country, for God's sake! Ya Allah... And now, I'm going to die. Thoughts of my mother and my friends flooded my mind. I imagined them suddenly getting a phone call from the Sicilian police, telling them I was dead. If even that.

"You know, she might be telling the truth," the fat brother said, lowering his gun from my face. "I mean, look at her," he pointed the gun at me, and I flinched, thinking he was going to shoot.

"Why would they send someone like her if they wanted to infiltrate? She looks like a bloody terrorist."

"Yeah, they'd send someone who would blend in, not stick out like a sore thumb," Enzo added, brushing his stubble.

"Maybe she worked for Tello, keeping tabs on him. Then, when he didn't show up, she followed him here, and BAM," the younger brother smashed his hands together. I shook my head, shifting my gaze between them. "Yeah, maybe that's how he sold you, taking a couple of kidneys from our trafficking. We'd never notice, and he gets someone who owes him for life—a slave."

"No, no, no!" I protested. "That's not true! I've never met Tello before in my life. I have my text message history to prove it." But they completely ignored me and continued their conversation.