Violent Beginnings (The Moretti Crime Family 2)

I dress in a flurry, wanting to hide all proof of what happened. If I’m not reminded of it, then it never happened.

Once I’m completely dressed, I turn around to walk back downstairs, but I crash into a wall, and by wall, I mean Markus. My cheek presses into his chest, and I take a step back, trying my best not to breathe his manly scent into my lungs. I don’t want to enjoy any part of who he is because doing so makes me feel like I’m doing something wrong.

This is wrong, Fallon. All of it.

“Sorry,” I blurt out.

How can someone so big move so quietly?

“Ready?” he grunts, unfazed by the fact I plowed into him.

“Yes.” I hold my arms down at my sides, even though I want to cross them protectively over my body. As I follow Markus down the stairs, I let myself look at him and realize he is now wearing boots and a hoodie, both of which he wasn’t wearing before.

That only reminds me of the mystery of this place and where all these clothes I’m wearing are from.

“Is this your real house?” Curiosity is finally getting the better of me. I can only hope it won’t get me killed. He stops mid-step, and I almost run into him again. Maybe I need to stop walking so closely.

Peering over his shoulder, he glares down at me. “No, I brought you here mainly for convenience, and because there is a cell in the basement, which I don’t have at my house.”

His frank words shock me, but at least he’s honest. With nothing else to do with my hands, I shove them into my pockets.

“So, you know the person who owns this place or…” I’m waiting for him to tell me he murdered them or something.

“If you’re wondering if I killed the person who owns this place, the answer is no. I more than know him. You could say he’s my boss.”

Well, that’s a surprise.

“What kind of work do you do?” I know it’s a stupid question before I finish the sentence. Markus doesn’t sell cars or sit in an office all day. His boss has a cell in a house located in the middle of nowhere.

“Are you sure you want me to spell it out? I’m sure you can put the pieces together and come up with your own conclusion.”

Markus leads us outside, and I decide to not push him by asking any more questions.

If I’m honest, I’m quite surprised. I didn’t expect him to let me outside, let alone without having the chains attached to my body.

Is he no longer afraid that I’ll run? Or is this a trap? Maybe he brought a gun and is planning on shooting me if I run. Yes, that is much more likely.

Gulping fresh air into my lungs, I take a moment and check out the scenery. Trees. There are trees everywhere. It’s like someone took the house and dropped it into the middle of a tree plantation. Seeing for myself that there is nothing but forest for miles makes the fear of it all really set in. There is no one to help me, no one to save me. I’ll bet there are no neighbors for miles. Markus doesn’t offer to take my hand, almost as if he’s testing me.

Testing to see if I’ll run, like I would be stupid enough to do that. Instead, he cocks his head in the direction he wants to go before heading off that way. I shove my hands deeper into my pockets, thankful that he didn’t try and hold my hand. Every time he touches me, I’m zapped into another dimension and seem to forget all the bad he’s done.

I don’t like how my body reacts to him or the heat that stirs in my belly when he looks at me. This cannot end any differently than it was supposed to all along. I have to remember the task at hand. What’s really important here.

I follow behind like a lost puppy, taking in the sights and sounds around me.

The birds chirp, and the sun hangs high in the sky. The warmth of it against my skin is like a beacon of light in complete darkness. It’s only been a few days, but it feels like forever since I’ve been outside and felt the sun’s rays on my skin or the wind in my hair.

For the first time since arriving here, my lips turn up at the sides, and though the motion feels foreign, I’m smiling, letting the fresh air and sun push me through another day.

I do my best to keep up with Markus, but one of his steps equals two for every one I take, and after only a few feet, I fall behind. He’s almost at the edge of the large backyard before he realizes how far behind I am. Turning around, he stares at me, his eyes narrowed to slits. He’s watching me, hunting me. A shiver runs down my spine, and the knots in my stomach coil tighter. I say nothing, though, and neither does he.