Hunger

Chapter 7

The room was spinning. I guessed that Marco was not a nice man, but saying this to me? It felt like an insult.

Everyones eyes were on me. I stared at Marco and shook my head slowly. My mouth was dry and my eyes ached. 

I managed to mutter, "no, your wrong." Marco closed his eyes and put his hand to his forehead before running it through his hair. He yanked open the folder and expertly flicked through the documents inside before lifting out three photos and handing them to me. The first was a picture of them sitting in a cafe, my mother was laughing and my father was grinning broadly. I looked at the date on the bottom left of the picture. It was taken a couple of days ago. The other two photos were taken yesterday and consisted of them sitting in a Porsche. We could have never afforded that kind of car.

"No. No, this is wrong." I said, though I couldn't tear my eyes from the photographs I clutched too tightly. 

"Rose." Marcos voice broke through my internal hysteria. I glanced up at the tense room, all of their eyes were on me.

"This can't be true. How could they- Why would they-" My breathing was going out of control as my brain attempted to make sense of the situation.

"They stole from us about a year ago, Rose. They staged their death believing we would never find out. They left you, Rose." He said, staring at me like it was obvious, like it was a normal, rational thing. 

They left you, Rose. They left you, Rose. Marcos words echoed through my mind as the men carried on their discussion, I didn't, couldn't, even attempt to hear. I was numb. I couldn't feel anything. This wasn't happening.

It could have been minutes, it could have been hours. Hell, it felt like days. I stood and pulled apart the information in my head while studying the half crumpled photos. I was looking for something out of place, something not quite right. Maybe, it was actors. Actors the mafia hired and took photos of to spite me. But why would they? They didn't even know me until last night. Looking at my mothers raised arm in the second photo I noticed a birth mark, it had always looked like a burn. I remembered her telling me 'Rose, I'm not going to fight you, you are going to bed' and then when I would cross my little five year old arms she would say 'see this mark? I fought a dragon and I won. You are not a problem, dear child'. I would stare at her in awe, I wanted to be as strong as her. Well not any more.

I felt a strong hand on my arm. Looking up, I saw it was Marco, everyone else had left the room.

He didn't say anything, just quietly guided me back to the room. After closing the door behind us, he locked it. "I want to go home." I said quietly.

"I know." He simply said, taking his shirt off and walking into the bathroom.

Anger filled me up, I had had enough of this defeated, weak feeling. I kicked off my heels and dumped them by the door.

"Marco, what was the point in bringing me here? To hurt me?"

He came out of the bathroom in a white top and black joggers. "No. You could be of some use to us."

"Brill, just brill. So where am I sleeping?" I asked, grinding my teeth as he walked over to the bed and got in.

"Well. Theres a comfy looking carpet?" He said, gesturing towards the floor. I looked at him in disbelief. "I'm kidding. Get in the bed, idiota" I didn't have to speak italian to know he called me an idiot.

"What? No, you are not getting anything you che-"

"Rose, just get in." He said with an exasperated, angry tone. I jumped.

Trying to be as dignified as possible I put pillows between us and got in the other side in my dress.

"With your dress on, really?" He said, turning the lamp next to him off. The room fell into complete darkness.

"Do you have any pyjamas for me?" I shot back.

"No. But you could use mine?" He grinned in the darkness.

"No thanks, you infected them."

I heard him suppressing a grin as he talked, it made me want to punch him in the spleen. "I don't mind if you want get out of that dress." He trailed fingers across the top of my spine. I shivered, going scarlet in the darkness.

"Don't touch me." I glared at him though I doubt he could see me as I couldn't see him.

His breath hit my face, I didn't realise how close he was. "Oh you will want me to soon, petalo" 

"Don't hold your breath. Wait, actually do hold your breath." I said strongly, he laughed quietly.

I rolled and faced away from him, now was my time to cry. Silently, the tears cascaded down my face, dampening the pillow. How could my parents do this?

"They are not worth it, you know." Came Marcos voice, surprisingly soft.

"Huh?"

"Your tears."

"I'm not crying" I murmured, unconvincingly.

"Of course your not." He sighed.

I was unbelievably tired. Especially considering I had already spent half of the day in a drugged sleep, this was too much.

The room fell into silence as I fell into an emotionally drained sleep.