Someone Else

Chapter 18

The first semester is officially over! I'm so f*****g relieved.

Chase came to visit and he stays with me in my room for a few days, it's basically been a s*x den in there.

I walk around the city that's now familiar like the back of my hand. It's early so I let Chase sleep in, I'm sure he needed the rest.

Today there won't be any drama or any coups, only me in town with only a wad of cash and my phone with headphones plugged in. A much needed me day.

I wonder around for hours, eventually getting lost when the buildings don't look familiar anymore but I just keep going. What's the fun in an adventure of I know what I'll find at every corner?

A lot of people pass by. Some putting in way too much effort in their clothes and some much worse for wear. Everyone looks so interesting, I'm get curious sometimes when I pass a young lady wearing fake Prada but sporting a real Gucci bag or a middle aged man with a scar running from his neck that disappears under his shirt.

People are the most interesting thing this city has to offer. Everyone is mingling together, even if they don't know it.

I find my way to a hotdog stand, a tchotchke stand, a magazine stand and I buy one thing from each place. Not because I necessarily need anything, but it's part of the adventure.

Eventually the sun starts to go down and I realize I've been in a daze the whole day. There are quite a few missed calls from Chase, Chloe, Ash and Nate. Guess it's time to open up Google maps.

Before I can tap the app, a white cloth is put over my nose and mouth and I'm knocked out.

+ + +

I wake up tied to a chair, something that smells suspiciously of blood is over my head. f**k me, did I somehow manage to piss off the Russians again?

"She's awake."

No s**t I am.

The sack is pulled off and a blinding light assaults my eyeballs. "Holy s**t, ow!" I shouted, blinking rapidly.

I'm in what would be most correctly described as a torture room but I suspect the people who are tortured here don't come out. Doesn't that make this a butchering room?

There are two men here, one of them I've met before. He's the guy who I mistook for Matteo a few months ago!

So that's why I'm here. But which side is he on? Russian? Italian? American? Greek? His skin is pale but his features...I can't tell where he's from. s**t, I might die here.

"You're making a mistake." I said stupidly. That was the first thing that came to mind? Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

"Really? You know why you're here?" The guy asked.

They had cut away my hoodie and it's cold down here. Goosebumps rise on my skin and I grimace. There's nothing worse than being cold. "Guys, where's my pen?" I asked. I can't feel it in my pockets.

The other guy crosses his arms. Was that to scare me? Well I'm not scared, just really f*****g concerned.

"Who is Matteo?"

I sigh. All this trouble because of him? "No, I want my pen. Did you throw it away?"

"Answer my question."

I pull on the rope in vain and they watch me with cold amusement. "Matteo Jameson, he's a guy who goes to my college, he's a close friend of mine!" I lied.

I'm not going to betray them like that by telling these guys where one of their homes are, they'd probably never let me use the pool again.

"You're lying." He said, picking something up from the table he was sitting on. It's my pen!

I calm down a bit at the sight of it but he throws it on the floor and crushes it with his boot. "Hey! That's mine! It can't be replaced!" I yelled, tears forming in the corner of my eyes.

He took something from the pieces, a small black disk. "This is a tracking device." He said, coming closer to show me.

A tracking device? "I didn't know that it was there." I said sadly. There are a ton of people who could have but the people who most likely did it was the Russians.

"Come on now, you're too pretty to be a liar."

The other guy comes to me with a carving knife and I look at it with despair. I'm going to die today. I doubt I'll wake up in another body this time.

God, help me. Please. I've made good use of this life you've given me. I've given back, I've helped people. Why is this happening to me now?

The cold metal couches my cheek and I shudder. "Just tell me what you want." I said, gritting my teeth.

"Who do you work for?"

"The Lord, Jesus Christ." I answered.

"Do I look like a religious man?"

Is that a rhetorical question? With his stony expression and tone, I can't tell. "I come from a rich family, I'm wildly successful. Why would I work for anyone?" I try to reason with them.

"Yes, many gold medals in cheerleading, extremely high IQ, a mechanical engineering student at Columbia. Your record only has one arrest and then it's completely clean."

"Yes! I'm clean!"

The other guy makes a 'tsk tsk tsk' sound and trails the knife down to my neck.

A small pain invades my rapid thoughts. He f*****g cut me!

"You're perfect. Too perfect. People don't change over night, Amelia. You were scouted, weren't you?"

Scouted? What am I, a football player being checked out by universities? I thought this was the mafia.

"I have no idea what the actual f**k you're talking about." I said. My neck feels wet... Is the cut deep? Probably not, I don't feel lightheaded or anything.

"Then explain these photos." He said, showing me photos of that day in the diner with those two crooks... I'm grabbing the fat one's arm.

I am going to die. "They said something about me stealing money from them but they had made a mistake!" I still can't tell what side they are on.

"Russians don't usually make mistakes, Amelia." Every time he says my name, my skin crawls.

Could he not have said 'the Russians'? It would have been a major indicator.

"You're awfully pretty. They like girls like you." He continued. The guy with the knife goes away and this guy pushes my hair back. "Green eyes, black hair, fair skin, and that smell... You are a vixen I'm sure."

He leans over to my neck and takes deep breaths. I resist the temptation to slam my head into his face, which would surely lead to my death.

"I am not dangerous, I'm not a threat to anyone! Please, just let me go."

"But we've just started having fun." He said, holding his hand out. His partner hands him a knife and he slowly cuts away my shirt. I'm not wearing a bra under it!

I pull on the restraints again, desperation taking the steering wheel. My wrists and ankles burn, my arms and legs are going numb. "Please, don't."

The front of my shirt is open but I'm not exposed yet. He uses the tip of his finger to trace my breasts and I flinch.

"Matt!" I scream for help for the first time. I writhe in the chair, trying to get his filthy hands off. "Matteo!"

The guy covers my mouth with his hand. "Shhh, I haven't even done anything to you yet."

Yet.

I bite his hand and blood fills my mouth. I immediately spit it out.

"f*****g b***h!" He yelled. His hand cracks across my face and my vision goes blind for a second. My face is screaming with pain.

"Matteo!" I sob, my left eye is already starting to swell closed.

The door flies open and he's actually there, I think. The last thing I see is a blurry man pulling out a gun.

Is this the end for me? I think to myself before my body goes limp.

___________________________________

This time, I wake up in a bed under a heavy blanket.

I groan and sit up, my hand immediately going to my face. f*****g hell, that hurts! At least my eye isn't swollen shut.

"Princess, you're awake."

Matteo comes into my line of sight. He was sitting on the floor, leaning against the bed.

I look down at myself and I'm wearing a black shirt that's way too big. One of his shirts I presume.

"What happened to the other guys?" I asked, remembering what happened.

"They're dead."

Oh... "Why'd you kill them?" I asked.

He looks at me in disbelief and I pout. "You're not serious?"

"They were only doing their job."

He scoffs. "You are not going to argue with me on this."

"Like hell I am! You shouldn't have killed your own men!" I exclaimed, crossing my arms.

"They touched you!"

"I'm barely scratched." I pointed out.

He looks up at the ceiling, as if praying to God to give him some patience. "They were going to r**e you and then worse."

"It was because I didn't tell them I knew you." They thought I was a spy or something and wanted to protect their boss.

"They're dead now, let's not talk about it anymore. How do you feel?"

Like I've been beat up. "Fine. I need to get back to my dorm." I said, getting out of the bed. "How long have I been out?"

"A few days."

I freeze. "Days?"

"The doctor said it was because of extreme mental strain." He explained. "You had a really high fever and almost died, Princess."

My jaw drops. Really? I almost died in my sleep? That doesn't sound half bad to be honest... My face must have healed up during that time.

"Where is my phone?" I asked him.

He takes it out of his pocket and returns it to me. I look through it and see someone had responded to my messages for me. "I had to, they would have called the cops and you would be in worse trouble."

I understand why he did it, I'm just embarrassed. "Can I go now? I want Toothless."

"That damned dragon? You brought it with you?"

"Was I supposed to leave him at home?"

He pulls me into his arms. "What am I going to do with you?"