Owned (Dellucci Mafia Duet)

When my ankles are freed too, I take a few seconds to get my muscles working again. I’m exhausted, in pain, malnourished, and thirsty as fuck, but the mere thought of escaping this hellish place gives me renewed energy.

“What are they doing with Harper? Do you know?” I ask as I get up.

“No, but I heard her cries. It can’t be anything good.”

“We have to save her.” I stumble to the door, recapturing my footing only barely.

“Marcello, wait.” Ricardo grabs my shoulder.

“What?” I bark.

When I turn my head, he raises a water bottle. “I know you want to save her, but you’re—”

I snatch the bottle from his hands and glug down the contents in one go, smashing it onto the ground as some of the water slides down my chin. “I’m fucking ready to save my fucking girl.”

Ricardo smirks. “Good. We’re gonna need that hard punch of yours when they realize you’re gone.”

He nods, and I nod back before he opens the door, and we storm out. Guards are everywhere, but Ricardo charges right at them like a fearless lion, kicking and punching his way through.

“Marcello, catch!” he yells, and he throws me a gun that he hid in his pocket. I manage to grab it midair as another guard comes storming at me, but I shoot him right in the head.

The door in the back opens up, and that one guard with that mask on who was torturing me all this time comes bursting through, the look in his eyes maddening, like a bull seeing red. “MAGGOT!”

He stampedes through the guards, shoving them aside even though they belong to the same family, charging straight for me. But I aim the gun at his knee without breaking even a drop of sweat and shoot.

He goes down crying like a bastard, and it sounds like a serenade to my soul. While Ricardo deals with the other guards, shooting them down one by one as they come pouring in, I pay extra special attention to the one who deserves it the most.

The guy is on the floor but still tries to get up even though he can only stand on one leg, so I shoot him in the other knee as well. He falls down, leaning on his elbows, but he still refuses to give up, clawing his way toward me to try to grab me.

“You won’t get away with this!” he growls.

“I fucking sure as hell will,” I reply, and I move my foot out of reach from his fingers, only to stand on top of them slowly, increasing pressure as I bend over and grab a fistful of his hair so I can rip off that mask of his. What’s behind it is an ugly face filled with scars, one I wish I never had to lay eyes on. I force him to look me in the eyes. “Remember when I told you you’d be the first to die?”

I shove the gun into his mouth and point it up toward his brains. “Beg.”

He shakes his head, rage still flooding his blood. “Fuck you,” he hisses, barely audible around the gun in his mouth.

I crack down onto his fingers harder and harder until one of his bones breaks, and he cries out in pain. “Now you know what it feels like,” I growl.

“Marcello! Hurry up, will ya!” Ricardo yells from the other side of the room, still punching and gunning down guards.

I sigh as I realize right now is not the time to enjoy torturing the filth who tortured me. Then again, he probably wouldn’t be able to handle it. But when he tries to fight me off, I gun down his hands, enjoying the sounds of his screams, before I put a bullet through his brain.

The sight of his blood gives me great pleasure after all the pain I’ve endured.

“C’mon!” Ricardo beckons me, and I focus my attention on the action around me. Several Irish and Polish guards lie wounded scattered around the floor, their bodies pierced with bullets and bruised with fists. A door on the other end of the hallway is opened up now, the one place I know leads to salvation.

But we must find Claudio first. I owe it to him to save him from this hell.

“Open up all the cells,” I tell Ricardo as he tries to go ahead.

He frowns and pauses in his tracks. “Why?”

“Claudio is inside one of them,” I reply as I kick down one of the doors myself. The cell in front of me is empty, but I know he is here somewhere. They wouldn’t just kill him without telling me. Molly loves to see me suffer, so she would definitely want me to know every little detail of his torturous death.

No, he must still be living and breathing somewhere, waiting for someone to come and rescue him.