Owned (Dellucci Mafia Duet)

Fear.

Harper

I run all the way back to that shoddy place I now call home. I don’t even look if anyone’s following me; that’s how scared I am. My heart is going a million miles an hour when I finally close the door behind me, and it takes me a while to catch my breath.

That was a close one.

Another don on the steps of that building, ready to burst in if need be.

Who would’ve thought this city was so small?

I shake my head.

Can’t believe I just met the only girl I thought I’d never see again. And that she gave me her number …

I unfurl my hand. The note is still there, all crumpled up and messy. But the phone number is clearly visible.

She gave me this for a reason. Maybe she wants me to save her. Someday.

I close my eyes and take another breath.

I can’t do shit at the moment. I don’t have money, nor do I have the power to free someone else when I’ve barely freed myself.

I wish she could’ve come with me … but knowing how these mobsters work, he’s probably forced her to take some kind of tracking device with her to make sure she doesn’t run.

She didn’t want my life to be in jeopardy too.

Oh, man. Poor Melanie.

I will help her get out. One day.

I move away from the door and go into the kitchen to grab a much-needed glass of water, which I chug down in one go. It doesn’t make me feel any better. Nor does the paper in my hand.

I look at it again and then crumple it up and stuff it in my back pocket.

I will protect this note and her number with my life.

Tik. Tik. Skkrrtt.

I freeze midway toward the living room.

The noise has me on high alert.

It sounds like a door being opened. A back door.

Voices echo through the house.

My eyes widen.

Visitors.

I quickly hide behind the couch. Peering over the edge, I gaze at three men barging inside the house like they own it, one of them fondling a tiny little bag with white powder in it.

Shock ripples through my core.

Gangbangers.

So this is a drug house after all.

Shit.

“Wow, wow, wow … What happened here?” one of them mutters as he stops in his tracks.

They all glare at the living room, which has obviously changed since the last time they were here. I moved in some extra furniture I found lying around, along with some amenities.

“What the fuck …?” another one says. “Who was in here?”

I dive back behind the couch as my heart begins to race. I have to get out before this gets ugly, and it can get ugly fast when drugs are involved. But this house has only two exits, and I’m stuck in this room while they’re right inside the door. How do I get out?

Another one barks, “Show yourself!”

Adrenaline swoops through my veins, my legs ready to run. Can I flee without them catching me? Maybe I can use this table next to the couch as a distraction and throw it at them.

Suddenly, two eyes appear from behind the couch, catching me off guard.

“Well, hello there.”

I shriek from the scare.

He walks closer.

“Stay away from me!” I yell.

He clutches the couch, wearing a filthy smirk on his face. “What a way to welcome your guests.”

I eye the corner of the room from the edge of the couch, his fellow buddies quickly approaching. There’s no time. I must act now.

So I grab the nearest pot standing on the table and hold it close. “Don’t! Or I’ll throw this!”

The guy pauses, laughing at me. “You really think I’m scared of a vase?”

His buddies join him in staring at me now while I’m crouched behind the couch, and they all start laughing in sync to make me feel ridiculed, and it’s working.

I throw the vase at them. “Get out!”

One of them sidesteps, and it barely misses him. “Jesus!”

“What the fuck are you thinking?” the other one says. “Why the fuck would you throw that?”

“I told you to get away from me,” I hiss back.

“Well, this isn’t your goddamn house, now is it?” the last one growls.

“Gee, you noticed?” I quip. I can’t help it when they’re all up in my face like that.

I grab the small table the vase was on and use it as a defense.

The first one cocks his head, tucking the bag of drugs into his pocket. “You know what? I wasn’t going to bother. I was gonna let you go. But now that you did that, I don’t think I will.”

I squeal when two of them reach for me, one of them snatching the table from my hands while the other grabs my wrist. I fight them off, kicking and screaming, but they still wrestle me to the floor. Behind the couch, I have no way of getting anyone’s attention, not even with the window open. I just pray someone will walk past and hear me scream.