Omertà

Chapter 4: The Not-So-Great Escape

I'd been in this room for about five hours when Dimitri finally came back. I'd spent most of my time doing nothing, just sitting on the bed. Then I'd tried untangling my hair, changing out of his shirt and removing last nights makeup to make myself more presentable, but by the time the lock disengaged in the door, I had absolutely nothing to do.

In my complete and utter boredom, I'd come up with a plan: I was going to knock out Dimitri and escape the next time he opened the door. So when the door swung open, I leapt from bed and swung my fist at his face.

"Che cazzo!" He yelled in shock and pain, lifting a hand to his jaw. My eyes widen in realization when I saw he was still conscious. So I did the only logical thing I could think of, and I started pounding his chest with my fists.

Sadly, my attack only lasted seconds as he grabs both my wrists in one hand and dragged me over to the bed. Pinning me to the bed, Dimitri hovered above me, furious.

"What do you think you're doing?" He yelled, making me flinch.

"I was escaping." I mumble quietly.

"Escaping? Escaping? You're ridiculous!" He roughly pushes me away as he stands up and starts pacing the room. "Tutto quello che ho fatto da quando siamo arrivati ​​qui è cercare di tenerla al sicuro e lei cerca di cazzo fuga!" He stops pacing and sighs, pulling at his hair.

I'm terrified of what he's going to do, seeing as he's extremely aggravated at the moment. "I'm sorry. I just want to go home." My voice breaks at the end and his face softens.

"Bella, I really wish we'd met under different circumstances... I'm sorry I've dragged you into all of this, I never meant to hurt you in any way. There's something about you that makes me want to keep you safe." His voice is full of raw emotion as he slowly comes closer to me. His hand reaches up and gently cups the side of my face, his thumb stroking my cheek bone softly.

I can't help but feel sick to my stomach. This is all some sick joke. He doesn't actually care because if he did I wouldn't be in this white room against my will. I turn away from his touch and refuse to make eye contact with him.

"You don't mean that."

"Yes I do!" He insists. "Bella, look at me." I keep my gaze fixed to the floor. "I said look at me!" He yells, making me jump. I reluctantly turn my gaze to him fearing what his anger might make him do. He's visibly fuming and his eyes are ablaze.

"Please, if I'm going to be stuck here, don't torture me more than you have to. Just leave me alone." I beg.

"No." He stands, suddenly, surprising me when he grabs my hand and pulls me up. "Come with me."

I have no choice but to follow him.

•-•-•-•-•

"Just hit the damn bag, Bella!" Dimitri whined, gesturing to the punching bag hanging from the ceiling in the basement. After our... conversation, Dimitri dragged me downstairs to the basement to teach me how to punch because, and I quote 'your hits are weak'.

I refuse to hit the bag, though, because I will not embarrass myself in front of him again. I cross my arms in front of me and shift my weight onto my hip. I watch as his eyes lower to my chest before flickering back up. I squirm in discomfort under his gaze. This was giving me some serious déjà vu to the freshman year gym class I was required to take. The teacher was an overweight, balding man with beady eyes who breathed loudly through his mouth.

"If you don't hit it, I'll make you lift weights." He threatens, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"What? You can't make me lift weights." How could he possibly force me to lift weights? My eyes widened when he suddenly begins stepping closer. He was actually going to try and make me? I quickly pivoted in the spot and tried to run, but, like last time I tried to run from him, he caught me around the waist. He swung me over his shoulder like I weighed nothing and began walking towards the weight lifting corner of the training area.

He throws me down gently and picks up a bar with two large weights on both sides. I was too busy wondering how he picked it up with such ease to get up, so when he got to me, he pushed my shoulders back to the ground and placed the bar across my stomach. I gasped in shock when he put it down. It pushed down on my stomach only enough to make me slightly uncomfortable and trap me, but not enough to hurt me.

I looked up at his infuriatingly smug face. "I can't lift this! It's, like, 400lbs!" I cry in frustration.

"You're going to have to." He says, pulling up a chair and sitting down. "I can wait. And it only 245lbs." He adds.

I stayed on the ground, struggling as Dimitri watched me with a smirk on his face until I just gave up.

"Dimitri, please take this off me." I begged. I could feel the claustrophobia kicking in. I hated feeling so vulnerable and helpless. "Dimitri! Please!"

I don't know what suddenly made him care, maybe it was the panic in my eyes, but he finally got up and lifted the weight off me. I sat up and hugged me knees to my chest, trying to calm down.

"Bella? Are you okay?" He asked, placing one hand on my back and the other on my knee. I didn't answer because I was too busy trying to prevent the oncoming panic attack. "Annabelle."

"Oh, look, you do know my name." I mutter. Slowly, I stand up and shake his hand off my back. "Take me back to the room." I say quietly.

He just nods and takes my hand in his. His fingers intertwine with mine, but I leave my fingers extended and stiff. He seems to take the hint and moves his grip to my wrist.

He unlocked the door wordlessly and closed it the second I passed through the doorway, leaving me alone in the cold, white room.

I walk into the bathroom and turn on the lights. I stand at the sink just staring at my reflection. How did I end up here?i never meant for any of this to happen. I just wanted to go to a party and have fun.

I slowly begin to undress and turn the water in the shower on. Rather than wait for the water to turn hot, I step in right away and finally let the tears flow freely for the first time since I arrived hear this morning.

When I step out of the shower an hour later, my eyes are red and puffy from crying and I have a headache. I wrap a towel around myself and run my fingers through my hair. I look up at the fogged mirror and trace my finger on it, leaving a straight line. I smile weakly to myself and turn the line into an 'A'. Then I add more letters to write Alyssa. I add two more names to the mirror: David and Marianne, my parents' names. I smile one more to eat the names and go back into the room in search of the clothes.

When I open the bathroom door, a wave of cold are hits me, sending shivers down my spin. I shuffle over he the drawers and look for something warm, but there only seems to be tank tops and shorts. I sigh, pull on he clothes, and crawl under the thin sheets of the bed. I toss and turn for a bit before giving up on sleep and staring up at the ceiling. This was officially the most uncomfortable bed I've ever had to sleep in.

Just then, the door clicked open. "Hello?" A soft, distinctly feminine and familiar voice called out softly.

"Teresa?" She walks into the room and smiles.

"Do you mind if I turn the light on?" She asks timidly.

I smile and nod.

"I just have to check on the tattoo." She walks to the side of the bed and I lift up the side of my bed. "Wow, it's so cold in here."

"I know..." She gives me a tight lipped smile.

"You can put your shirt down. It's clean and it's not infected, so you're good." Teresa smiles at me again.

"Here." I look up and see her beginning to peel of her sweatshirt. "Take this." She pushes it towards me. "My room is heated and I have more."

I look at the sweatshirt in my hands for a minute. How could someone so kind and thoughtful be related to people so cruel and heartless. Without thinking, I hugged her hard.

"Thank you." I whispered.

"Your welcome." She smiles and opens the door. "Goodnight, Annabelle."

"Goodnight, Teresa."