Married To The Mafia: Book II

13 - The Code.

All she could do was say a prayer.

And when she tried to, she couldn't because she was too jumpy to. Blindfolded, gaged and cuffed hands and feet, all she could think of was how soon she was going to die. Every single sound and movement made her start. Her heart would jump and skip several beats, making her blood pump furiously, then they would slowly decrease to it's normal seventy-two beats per minutes.

She was presently blindfolded and had been that way since the blindfold was placed over her face shortly after Marcel had been ready to take her away. She hadn't bothered to plead with him or to promise that God will send fire and brimstone on him for torturing an innocent person, not because she hadn't wanted to, but because she'd been gagged.

The drive had stretched her nerves to breaking points. Her emotions were heightened and she'd been too keyed to relax. She hadn't even been blessed with the temporary comfort of sleeping. She'd stayed wide awake through out the journey and had counted the seconds it took for them to drive and arrive. Since she had nothing else to do, she thought it would come in handy. It'd been somewhere around seven thousand seconds. She'd taken note of the times the car had stopped moving too. Whenever the car stopped, she stopped counting and resumed whenever it did.

When they stopped finally, she knew because of the slapping of car doors and she being led on foot. Since she couldn't see anything, she focused her olfactory lobes to heighten her sense of smell. It smelt of wood and mud and grass.

A door creaked open, sounding like it was barely hanging onto it's hinges and she was shoved in, pushed to a chair and tied to it. The ropes bit painfully into her skin, bruising her. There was no use fighting and so there she sat, hopeless and distraught. She didn't even know if she could hope for a miracle like the last time.

Her ears perked when she heard voices talking in hushed tones but she made out nothing. Tried as much as she could, she couldn't make out a word. Unexpectedly, the gag and the blindfold was yanked off and she squinted against the sudden brightness of light.

"Give her water." The voice commanded.

A bottle was pushed into her mouth and despite the fact that she wanted to refuse, she was thirsty so she greedily gulped the water. The bottle was raised above her mouth and she angled her head so the water would enter her mouth. The person raised the bottle higher, pouring it carelessly over her nose. It created a painful sensation in her chest. She spluttered and coughed.

She heard his laughter and watched the stocky, heavily bearded man bend to her level.

"Hi."

Pamela was relieved that she didn't know the person. She honestly couldn't take a heartbreak.

"I'm Drew. Drew Scott. I'll cut to the chase. I have a few questions for you and it will be in your best interest to answer with complete honesty. That way, you'll live."

Pamela doubted it but she nodded slowly.

"Are you aware of the trust fund your dad stashed away for you?"

She nodded.

"Where are the codes to unlock it?"

"I don't –" She started but her voice was hoarse. She cleared it. "I don't know."

He gave her a malicious stare for several seconds. "Remember what I told you. You have to be honest."

"I am."

"No you're not."

Her throat tightened. "I swear I am."

He stood and paced. "I really like you, you know. That's why I don't want to use torturing methods." He swiveled to face her. "You see, you're fragile. As fragile as a flower. But when a flower is plucked from its roots, it shrinks. You don't want to shrink do you?"