Owned (Dellucci Mafia Duet)

Maybe the stick was lying.

Maybe it wasn’t true.

Sweat ripples down my back, and I take a strand of my hair and tuck it behind my ear to stop the jitters from spreading all over my body.

Because the thought of some nurse trying to make me go through tests just to confirm my worst fears is making me wanna run like hell.

“Hey.”

A voice going in my direction makes me lift my head and look.

A woman sits down next to me, holding a pen and paper, but her full hair and beautiful face make me do a double-take.

Because I recognize this girl.

This girl was in the auction with me.

“Melanie?” I mutter.

Am I high, or am I dreaming this up right now?

“You’re really Harper, aren’t you?” she asks, still clutching the pen and paper like she was about to fill it in but got sidetracked. “I thought I recognized you, but I wasn’t sure.”

I fall into her embrace just as hard as she hugs me.

“Oh my God, I can’t believe you’re here,” I say.

“Me neither. Of all the places, this is where we see each other again,” she replies. She pushes me away with both hands and looks me up and down. “You look like you’re in bad shape, girl.”

I snort. “That’s an understatement.”

“What happened to you?” she asks. “I mean, I know we both got …” She leans in to whisper, “Auctioned off, but …”

I nod. “Marcello got me. The Italian don.”

She makes a face, baring her teeth. “Yikes.”

“Yep.” I rub my lips and look away briefly as I don’t really want to discuss my ordeal. “Let’s just say it wasn’t all sunshine and roses.”

She rolls her eyes. “Tell me about it. I thought that whole Mafia thing was sexy and shit, but Stefan is just a girl’s worst nightmare, to be honest.”

“Stefan?” I frown.

“The Polish don.”

“Ahh …”

She stares off at the wall for a moment. “Guess we both got the rough end of the deal.”

“Do you know what happened to the other girls?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “Nope. I asked, but no one ever answered me. Not even Stefan. He only uses me as a fuck doll, and that’s it.”

“I’m sorry,” I reply.

“Don’t be. At least I’m here now, away from him.” Her scoff ends in a laugh, but not a good one. “For as long as it lasts anyway. I only have to go for a test, and that’s it.” She turns to me. “How come you’re here?”

A blush creeps onto my cheeks. I don’t really want to discuss it, but I guess there’s no way around it now. “I may be pregnant.”

Her look intensifies. “May?”

“Well, I mean the stick said I was, but it might be a false positive.” I clutch my shivering knees. “I just hope it is.”

The look in her eyes softens. “Oh, honey …” She pulls me in for another hug. “It’ll be okay.” Suddenly, she starts to whisper, “Is your don waiting for you outside? Are there guards?”

I shake my head.

“He lets you go by yourself?”

“I ran away from him,” I whisper back.

She leans back, her jaw almost on the floor. “How?”

“He trusted me and let me sleep in bed with him,” I reply.

“Oh wow,” she mutters.

“I don’t know.” I frown, rubbing my legs as they’re starting to itch from all this worry coursing through my veins. “Maybe I—”

“Listen, girl,” Melanie interrupts, grasping my shoulders. “Get out. Run. As fast as you can.”

I’m bewildered by her comments. “Wha—?”

“Save yourself before it’s too late,” she hisses. “Stefan is right outside, waiting. If he sees you, he’ll catch you.”

The sheer horrifying look on her face tells me enough as I get up, panic flooding my every muscle.

“Go. Run,” Melanie says, and she looks over at another corner of the room. “There’s a side exit over there, and I don’t think Stefan’s guards will be watching that one.”

“What about you?” I ask as I keep holding her hand.

“It’s too late for me. Stefan owns me now. But I’ll figure something out.” She scribbles something down on the paper she received at the desk and tears it off, stuffing it into my hand. “Take this and go. And don’t look back.”

I take a peek only to realize it’s a phone number. Hers maybe?

“Just go before he sees you. GO!” She pats me on the back to force me to walk.

I nod and scramble to get myself together as I storm away, not even looking back to wave or say goodbye. And I hate that I have to leave so abruptly, even before I had the chance to get looked over and helped.

But the risk of being discovered by another don, a Polish don … is a risk I’m not willing to take.

After all, I’m free now, and I’ll be damned if I let anyone lock me up again.

But that freedom sure comes at a heavy price … heavier than the loneliness it encompasses.