Mafia Zaddy

Chapter 2: Call me Zaddy

My body was overcome with a wave of heat, hearing their words. I shifted in my seat, looking subtly toward the door thinking about whether or not I could beat them to it. Suddenly, I heard the loud clack of my phone hitting flat on the table in front of me. The noise drew my attention forward to see the person staring down at me with disapproval.

“You really don't want to do that." they said simply, again extending a gloved hand in my direction. “Give me your wallet." I felt compelled to give it to them, hearing their voice wash over me in that tone. Instead I froze out of confusion. Was I enjoying this?

After processing for a moment I let out a lazy sigh, suddenly very thirsty from the soju. “Knock yourself out," I said, digging my wallet out of my coat pocket. “If I could get my bus pass, though because-"

They snatched the wallet out of my hand with a single quick motion, causing me to cut my words short. They made a quiet hush noise, then started thumbing through my wallet. They produced my ID and squinted over the details. A crooked grin crawled across their face, and they leaned down to try to meet my gaze. “Imelda?"

My whole head turned bright red. I wasn't used to anyone saying my middle name out loud. “I… that's not… I actually go by-" They reached forward with a gloved hand and placed two fingers under my chin, tilting my gaze to meet theirs. Their eyes were intimidating, overpowering.

“Oh, we're calling you Imelda, forget what you used to go by." Their gaze drifted down toward my body, then back to the contents of my wallet. “Let's see, browsing crappy hotels on Christmas Eve while drinking alone, out of state ID," they squinted down toward me, as though evaluating, “And you continued to eat your noodles instead of calling the authorities. Why?"

My heart was racing, staring up at them. It took me a moment to realize they had asked a question. “Oh." I shook my head, rubbing my face with both hands as though it would sober me enough to cope with the situation. “Cops rarely if ever make situations safer. I just came for the noodles, everything else isn't my business."

I tried to speak as calmly as I could, but it was hard to keep my eyes from drifting over the inked skin poking out from their collar, crawling up their neck. “Mm Hm…" they uttered, still studying the contents of my wallet. After a moment, they tossed it on the table next to the cell phone. “Alright, get your sh*t. We're leaving."

I started shoving my wallet and phone in my coat pockets, then paused. Wait, did they mean we as in us or we as in them and the person outside? I gripped my coat, trying to roll through it in my head when they barked down at me in a sharp tone. “Up, now."

My body responded before my brain had even processed the words, shooting upright in their direction. They smirked and led me toward the door. “We have a car right outside, it won't be far. Don't try anything reckless." They unlocked the door and held it open for me.

When I stepped outside, I saw the person who had been on the other side of the door. The person in the suit came from behind me and wrapped a long arm over my shoulder. “Imelda, this is Sergio. He works for me."

Sergio was at least a few inches taller than the one in the suit and very broad. He was dressed in a simple button up and slacks, both black. He moved quietly to open the back door of the car, motioning me inside with a tiny nod. I climbed inside, and the person who'd been leading me slid in beside me. Sergio situated himself in the driver seat, and we made a slow retreat.

My mind raced, trying to figure out what was happening. Was I being kidnapped? When they told me to go, I just went. Was this a date? Were they going to take me into a field and shoot me? Overwhelmed by the events of the night, I let out a deep sigh and sunk into the seat lazily.

The beautiful person next to me casually started removing a glove, tugging one finger out at a time. “What's the matter, pet? Do you really hate being called Imelda that badly?"

I squirmed into the seat, still not used to hearing my middle name out loud but enjoying the sound of it. “It's not so bad." I muttered, staring down at the coat laying over my lap.

“Then why are you pouting?" they asked, using their now bare finger to unlock their phone. Sergio kept his eyes forward, focusing on the road.

“I'm not," I insisted quietly. I couldn't tell how much of my confusion was from drinking and how much was from the situation. “What are you going to do to me?"

A tiny smile found its way to their lips, but they didn't look up from their phone. “What do you want me to do to you?"

I could feel my face flush again, and I shrunk into the seat with an embarrassed posture. “That's not… I'm confused. I don't even know your name."

They typed out a quick message, then locked their cell phone and placed it in their lap, turning to face me. “Ask nicely."

My heart felt like it was going to pound its way out of my chest, but I put all of my effort into appearing collected. I was scared. And excited. I had no idea where we were going, but I started the evening not knowing where I was going so it didn't seem so bad. I found myself speculating how much of their body was covered with tattoos. “Please? What can I call you?"

They let out a long exhale, leaning back into the seat with a deep, elaborate stretch. “How about you call me Zaddy?"

Sergio cleared his throat loudly from the driver seat, and the person sitting next to me laughed. I nervously rubbed the back of my neck. “I've never heard that name before."