The Mafia's Angels

17. Basketball

Josephine's POV:

Doing just the smallest of tasks hurts like a little bitch, but slowly but surely, the painful aches are starting to wither. As I pull on some white nike socks and trainers, I hear a soft knock at the door.

"You ready?" Alex calls.

"Just a sec," I reply, as I basically fall onto the floor to do my laces up.

The mansion is fucking massive, and Alex walks next to me, not once complaining about the slow pace. He points out every room to me, some we go in, some we just look at, from everyone's bedrooms, to the multiple empty guest bedrooms, to the beautifully clean bathrooms and each balcony. There are multiple studies; unused living rooms; a show kitchen which is the one I ate in before, as well as a servant's kitchen, with brand new appliances and some of the biggest fridges full of food I've ever seen; a few game's rooms, with pool tables, arcade games and bowling alleys; a huge cinema room, which looks like an actual theatre; a grand wine cellar, housing a seemingly infinite amount of bottles; and there's even a panic room.

Eventually, we make our way outside to the massive veranda, with the pool house in the distance.

"And that's basically it," Alex says, as the tour that seemed to take hours, comes to a close. It was good though, as all the walking seems to have eased my achy legs.

"This is an amazing house!" I smile dumbly at him. He smiles back.

"And that's just this one. There are a load of others we use, all around the world."

This life wasn't too bad, I realise. I had this seemingly never ending supply of wealth that I didn't have to work for, a bunch of sexy guys around me, and no responsibilities. I bask in the sunlight, thinking, maybe I didn't want to escape. It was almost as if I was in a movie.

Yeah I'd been kidnapped, but it was kind of fun. I've convinced myself it is at least.

Then, I spot a basketball court in the distance.

"Wanna play?" I ask, pointing towards it.

Alex's face goes a shade lighter all of a sudden. He doesn't look at me as he replies.

"No, I don't play."

I'm a bit put off by his weird reply, but I make my way towards the court anyways.

"I'll play on my own then," I say back to him.

"Josie," he calls me, "Josie!"

He's at my side again, matching my slow, but faster than before, pace.

"I don't wanna play," he says gruffly.

"Ok, well I do," I reply, as we reach the court.

He mumbles something, before he reaches me again, and grabs my arm, hard.

"Ow!" I moan.

"I'm not playing basketball with you," he says.

"Then don't!" I reply, pulling my arm out of his grip. Why the fuck was he having this weird reaction? I thought he liked basketball, seeing as I'd seen him in a jersey the other day. He was completely fine a moment ago? Some would even say infatuated and now he was acting cold?

"You can just sit and watch," I say, bending down to grab the ball.

I've never played basketball in my life, but I considered it wasn't dissimilar to netball. I bounce the ball up and down with my right hand, and make my way to one of the hoops. Then, I lift the ball above my head, groaning at my pained stomach, my arms wobbling. As hard as I can, I chuck the ball at the hoop, and it whacks off the backboard and directly back at me.