Married To The Mafia: Book II

10 - Hide And Seek.

"Leave, Devlin."

Pamela's throat was tight when she said those words. "If you want me to retain the little amount of respect that I still have for you, just leave."

The space of time that she'd left Devlin on the front porch and when she heard the hum of his car receding, Pamela had been weeping bitterly. Her last hope of salvation was gone.

Devlin come back! Her mind screamed. Save me!

The front door opened and shut with a click and she looked up at Marcel from where she sat with her hands and feet tied to a chair. He walked slowly towards her, not breaking contact with her eyes and she forced herself to hold the stare. She didn't want him to see that he intimidated her, or that she was afraid of him. He leaned in towards her and stroked her hair.

"You were good out there my darling."

Involuntarily Pamela shivered. What she was witnessing was unreal.

"Are you cold? Don't worry, we'll be out of here soon." He grinned at her, flashing white teeth that repulsed her. "I still can't get over how good you acted. You deserve an award my dear." He kissed her forehead and Pamela whined with disgust.

She had a lot to say, had words she wanted to describe him as but she didn't trust her voice. They would quaver and give away the extent of her fear. But she wiled herself to be calm.

"Gloat all you want." She said seething. "But you know the real reason I did it."

His smirk fell and he slowly straightened. "Gag her."

"Marcel please –"

He raised the back of his hand and whacked her across the face. She muffled a painful scream and ground her teeth so she wouldn't cry. She looked up at him. Obviously, begging did nothing to appease the demon that had taken control of the buttons in his brain.

"You know you should have listened to him when he begged you. You really should have."

Pamela waged a battle within her. Should she keep begging? Should she pretend like she didn't care? She did. She cared for her life a lot. She didn't want to die. Most especially, she didn't want Devlin to die.

"Marcel don't do this to me, please. Don't."

He shook his head and stroked her hair. "You know I care about you a lot. Why didn't you call ahead? Why did you have to find out my secret? I just can't let my secret out."

Twin tears trickled down her eyelids and ran a short race down her cheeks. "Marcel please. I beg of you." Her voice was hoarse, strained. Her resolve was gone. She was going to beg. The reality of what was happening to her was beginning to settle like a wet blanket over her. It was macabre. She had to find a way out. "I beg of you."

"Stop begging me!" He shouted, spittle spilling from the corners of his mouth. He bunched her hair in a fist and pulled it so that she would be looking directly at him. "You're making me feel like I'm a bad person, I'm not!" He ground out.

"Please don't kill me."

He let her head go, pushing it roughly. "That's not for me to decide, but your husband, he's a pain in the crotch. I've got to remove him from the picture." He looked at her, gave her a fleeting smile and added, "I'm sorry."

"Marcel please –"

"Beg from now till Doomsday," Marcel began, assuming the voice of a parent about to administer punishment. "but there is nothing that will be done. There is no hope for you." He bent to pick a layer gag. "This is your fate Pamela, it would do you a lot of good to accept it."