De Luca

Chapter 14

Nathalie pov

I called in sick from work, taking a week off from both jobs. By that time, the bruise on my neck should be fading away, and my left tight would get a little better.

The moment I called in sick, Lance called me, not buying my story. I lied to him telling him that I went skinny dipping with Reds and caught a cold. I had to cover my mouth with a napkin to sell my fake cold, through a few force coughs in the mix.

No way was I telling him the truth. He would do something stupid and get himself killed. Just when I got off the phone with him, Giovanni called me. I told him I was okay, and Kristy was taking care of me. Now I was the one avoiding him. Hopefully whatever had him busy would keep him that way and he wouldn’t drop by my apartment.

I applied some make-up around my neck, just in case I had a surprise visit from anyone.

I sure as hell didn’t call my mom, she would kill me herself or got herself killed if she confronted Trent.

I step out of the -what used to be the safety of my home -and began my search for Mr. Santini. I asked a few teenagers if they ever heard of him. They all seemed hell-bent on not saying a word. For two days, I got nowhere.

I googled the Motel; I was taken too all those years ago. Something like that never leaves your memory, no matter how many times you try blocking it out. Havoc Motel, it’s the motel that Marco, Mr. Santini guy, dropped me off. I was walking down the road from Havocs Motel when a black SUV pulled off to the side of the curb. My breathing became uneven; fear and panic crept in me. Now if it was Trent.

I pulled out the knife I had strapped to my waist, hiding the blade behind my forearm. I continued at the pace I was, trying to control my shaky hands. The driver door open, and out step, a man I could never forget -Marco.

I held the knife in my grasp as I walk closer to him. The passenger window rolled down, and there sat Mr. Santini. “Ms. Pryce, please get in.” Marco opens the door for me, and I tucked my knife away and got in the back.

To say I was terrified that he found me just like that had me ready to s**t myself. “You’ve been busy. I heard you’ve been looking for me, why is that?” His accent was thick. Is it possible that he doesn’t know?

“Trent got out,” My voice came out bearly audible, I told him what happened, and he asked me to show him the proof. Because from what he saw, I look okay. I pulled my pants down, showing him the stab wound. I lifted my hair, wiping some of the makeup away, making Trent’s fingerprint now visible around my neck. That seems to have gotten his attention.

He nodded, and I pulled my pants back up. “Why would you bail him out?” I asked him. I know I should not accuse a mafia boss or question him about his business. But he knows how dangerous, and sick Trent is.

“I didn’t. This is all new information for me. If anything, I tried killing Trent while he was in prison; clearly, he is a hard man to kill.” He looked at Marco, and Marco shook his head.

If Mr. Santini didn’t bail him out, who did? Who the f**k would bail Trent out of prison and why? If anything, this person must be sick or wanted to get back at Mr. Santini. Even so, they had to know that Trent was a psycho.

“Then who would?” I voiced my thoughts out loud.

“That I’m afraid, is the question we both want answers too. Ms. Pryce, whoever did this, clearly wants you dead. And if he found you at your home, its someone close to you.” Now, why would he go and say some s**t like that?

I didn’t take anyone’s man, or slept with a married man, nor did I owe anyone any money. Why would someone want me dead? How did they even know where I live to begin with. Now I couldn’t trust my friends. Well, that’s not true.

FUCK.

I shook my head, trying to figure out who I pissed off. No one came to mind, and I was probably going to die.

“Here.” Mr. Santini broke me from my chain of thoughts. He was holding out a gun for me to take. I hesitated on reaching out for it and staring the black metal. “Look, its either you use it, or you die, your choice.” way to be blunt.

“This is your safety, make sure it is off, and if you point this at someone you better be ready to kill and live with that for the rest of your life.” Seriously, I am a woman who has never killed a day in her life. How am I supposed to live with that s**t?

“Point and pulled the trigger. This how you pop the clip out and reload.” Mr. Santini demonstrated with another gun, and I tried to take in all this at once. Something told me that this would be a one-time explanation.

We were done talking, and Marco opened the door for me. Before Marco close the door, Mr. Santini called out to me.

“And Ms. Pryce, be careful.” I nodded to him as Marco closed the door. I am now making my way back to the bus stop. I am scared that Trent would finally have his way and kill me.

My only hope now is that Mr. Santini can find him before Trent finds me. I went back into work after ‘my sick leaf.’ With Mr. Santini words clouding my thoughts.

Jessica didn’t know about him, Lance I’ve known for six years, him I could trust. Jazmine, on the other hand, the b***h could hold a grudge like, I don’t know who holds grudges for life. Think of them and then picture Jazmine.

The nurses called me back and told me that I had forgotten to sign the release papers. They needed me to come down and sign them for their paperwork, so I did just that.

I got in and sign the papers and just when I stepped out of the hospital. I saw someone that looked like Giovanni, but couldn’t be.

The reason it couldn’t be m Giovanni is because the woman walking next to him is his ex-girlfriend, Olivia.

See this is precisely why it could not be him. Whoever it was him.

“Reds?” I asked in disbelief. What was he doing with her, and why was he coming to the hospital with her.

He looked shocked, surprised even, to see me. “Regina.” I looked between him and her.

“Care to explain. I mean, is she dying? What- What are you doing with her?” I asked him and then shot a glare at the b***h.

“Oh, didn’t he tell you.” He looked at her, and I looked at him. This was straight out of a movie.

She needed to learn the term, speak when spoken too.

“Okay, Giovanni, you got two seconds to explain yourself,” I told, I could feel my blood boiling. I already got my ass handed to me by my crazy ex. Now my new boyfriend is with his ex.

Somebody is about to get punched.

“Ugh, Hurry up and tell her my feet hurts.”

“Olivia, enough!” he shouted at her.

“I’m pregnant, and it’s his.” I’m sorry a b***h say what now?

I gapped at her, rolling my eyes in disbelief and I turned my glare at him. I was hoping he said its a lie, and she’s dying with a terminal disease or something, but he said nothing!

No words came out of his mouth. Nothing.

We’re having a Mexican standoff. I was conflicted on who to punch first — the b***h or him.

I went for him.

Boop. I hit him, right on his nose. I was hoping that I broke it and that it was bleeding, but none of that happened.

“You chickenshit. Go f**k yourself.” I punched him again, and he stumbled back a little. This time I manage to cut his cheek.

I walked off, pissed as ever. Giovanni called out for me, even ran and caught up with me. We bickered back and forth. And I kicked him in the balls, getting into the first cab I saw.

He got her pregnant. That was why he was avoiding me. Forget my ass whopping this hurt worse than that.