Hunger

Chapter 15

Something jabbed me in the side, jerking me from my slumber. I glared upwards into amused eyes before groaning and burying my face in the pillow again. It was Marco. He had never come back that night, thankfully. 

"Idiota, idiota, idiota" He carried on, taunting and poking.

"Oh such sweet words to wake up to," I said, muffled.

"Well, thats what you are," He said, sitting down making the bed tip softly under his weight, "I mean you are not only in a mafia club held by, well, mafia but you have an opposing mafia that are after you. So you decide to escape any kind of protection and wander off. Not only that but you were also half naked." He chuckled, pulling the duvet down to reveal his shirt that I was still wearing.

I turned and yanked the duvet back while he laughed. "What do you want, Marco?"

He laced his fingers together before turning a suddenly serious gaze on me. His mood swings were giving me whiplash. "We are moving to another club, we think we may know who attacked us the other night and we are not taking any chances."

I didn't even bother arguing, "fine, let me get dressed." I sighed, ignoring him as I rose to my feet and walked towards my closet.

His voice followed me, "oh and you are not allowed to know where it is," He said behind me before a hand clasped around my mouth. I gasped, breathing in fumes off a white cloth plastered in between my mouth and his hands. Fading, I slumped backwards and he caught me, "especially after that stunt you pulled last night."

I uttered one last word before falling unconscious, "Asshole."

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I awoke again, jolting upright. We were in the back of a very expensive looking black car with tinted windows. I was still wearing Marcos shirt.

"Morning, well, afternoon." Came Marcos voice next to me, "I think you drooled on me." He was staring  down at his lap where my head must have been.

"Okay number one, you deserved it, and two where the hell are we?" 

"Now now, Petalo what would be the point of drugging you just to tell you where we were." He smirked.

"Brilliant, just brilliant. We are still in the same country, right?" I asked, rubbing my hand along my forehead.

I got no reply.

Crap. 

I tried to peer through the partition at the driver but couldn't see anything. No doubt the driver was also part of the mafia and in on this. I sighed, falling back against the seat.

"Can I at least have clothes?" I asked, staring down at his shirt.

"There are joggers under your seat." Came Marcos brisk reply as he stared out of the window, thoughtfully. Slipping my hand under the chair, my fingers found cotton. They were black and looked like my size. Thankfully, I slipped them on before bringing my knees to my chest and trying to make sense of the passing surroundings. My head was still reeling from the drugs. We sat like this, for a while. Me with my arms crossed, biting my tongue to hold back all the obscenities I yearned to hurl at him. Him forever staring out of the window with his usual sub zero temperature gaze.

Abruptly, the car swerved. Colliding with another vehicle before flipping onto its side. Metal scraped against metal with an ear piercing screech. The car skidded across concrete and I was violently thrown over onto Marcos side, the window now where the floor should be. I raised my arms to protect myself from further injury as I was battered by flying objects and the impact itself. Time stood still as I tried to make sense of things. The car had come to a halt. I could smell gas and heard a fire flickering nearby. My body ached as I lifted my head, Marco had blood rolling down his face and was motionless next to me.

"Marco, Marco!" I pleaded, pushing at him. My fingers struggled at his seatbelt to free him before I heard slow footsteps approaching the car. "Help, help, call an ambulance." I called to the stranger between coughs. No sound.

The familiar click of a guns safety shattered the silence. 

They had found us.