AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I test the handcuffs; the metal is cold and unyielding against my skin, a harsh reminder of the futility of resistance. “Leone…” I whisper one last plea, a desperate hope for mercy.
“Shhh,” he hushes, tracing a finger down my cheek in a twisted gesture of comfort. “There are consequences, and you are about to learn exactly how cruel I can be,” he whispers before settling beside me on the bed and tugging the blanket up.
My heart races with fear, each beat screaming for me to escape and fight. Yet, I hold back, refusing to voice my terror. Admitting my fear would only hand them more power, a weapon to use against me. So, I swallow the panic, lock it away, and brace myself for whatever comes next, silently vowing to endure but not break.
THIRTY-THREE
FALLON
A week later
The relentless chill of the handcuffs bites into my wrists. Bruises, deep blue and tender, mar my skin. The only times I’ve been free of the handcuffs are using bathroom and the occasional shower breaks where I’ve managed to sneak my birth control. But I’m hardly left alone even while showering as Milo showers with me. I cherish those moments because he treats me as if I am human. Leone is mostly cold towards me. Milo appears that way except when showering, not that he speaks to me; he hasn’t broken that rule yet, but he doesn’t outright ignore me when we are alone.
“Stay still, Fallon,” Leone’s command cuts sharply through the stifling quiet of my confinement.
Perched awkwardly on the bed, I shift, trying in vain to alleviate the relentless pressure on my raw wrists. The room seems to constrict around me, the silence oppressive, punctuated only by the sinister clink of my chains or Dante’s haunting taunts from beyond the door. His nightly threats, lewd words, and my solitude were the only constants in my life. I shift uncomfortably on the bed, the metal biting deeper with each movement, the walls inching closer as if ready to swallow me whole.
“Please, just a little walk outside?” My voice is a desperate whisper, fluttering weakly between him and Milo, who averts his gaze, his discomfort palpable.
“Quiet Fallon,” snaps Leone, his voice cold. It’s the first word spoken since they shackled me here: the silent treatment—a cruel blade slicing through my sanity.
I was never able to comprehend the true torment of silence until it swallowed my pleas. Smothering every cry for recognition, leaving me to suffocate in a void so profound it frayed the edges of my mind and I thought Grandma was cruel, but this is something else. This enforced quiet fills every nook, amplifying the roar of my ragged breaths, my appeals dissolving into nothingness, leaving me adrift in stark abandonment. Leone promised I would learn his cruelty; I hadn’t imagined silence could cut so deeply.
“Please Leone. I am going crazy here!” I cry out, my voice a crescendo of terror. “You leave me alone, and he—” My eyes flick to the door, where Dante’s malicious shadow seems to linger. He loves tormenting me through the door when they aren’t here. Always threatening to come in and do vile things to me when Leone isn’t here, threatening violence, both physical and sexual, something that has me on edge while praying he doesn’t enact his threats.
I thrash against the bedding, my movements frantic, as if flinging the blanket away could somehow lessen the crushing weight of my despair.
“She’s scared, Leone. We could—” Milo starts to defend me but is cut off.
“Silenzio, Milo!” Leone’s sharp command slices through the brief hope Milo’s interruption brings. They prepare to leave, and panic surges through me. I tug at the chains frantically, the fear of being left alone with Dante’s haunting threats clawing at my sanity.
My breathing becomes shallow and rapid as claustrophobia tightens its cruel grip. The walls seem to close in, the looming threat of being crushed more real than ever—the terror claws at me, demanding escape.
“Please, don’t leave me alone tonight,” I plead, my voice saturated with raw desperation.
Leone regards me with the calculating gaze of a predator sizing up its next meal. Without a word, he snatches his phone from the bedside table, slips it into his pocket, and motions for Milo to follow him out the door, plunging me back into a deafening silence.
As night descends, it brings with it suffocating darkness, a tangible, oppressive shroud that tightens around my mind. Through the shadows, Dante’s voice creeps a sinister whisper that slithers under the door and coils around my heart.
“Fallon, just imagine how simple it would be for me to slip inside... To use you as I please,” Dante hisses, his voice dripping with malevolent delight. “ There’s no one here to stop me.”
Tears trail down my cheeks as I curl tighter against the headboard, pressing my hands over my ears in a futile attempt to silence his venomous words. But his taunts pierce through, each one a knife twisting deeper into my soul.
I shudder, overwhelmed not by cold but by the sheer terror of being left here on my own, paranoia becoming too much lately, paranoia about Dante, paranoia they’ll be killed and I will be left here to rot.
**The next day**
The steam from the shower envelops the room in a misty haze, but it’s Milo’s touch that anchors me to the here and now. His hands glide over my skin, igniting a flurry of emotions that conflict and converge within me. I shiver, not from cold, but from the intensity of feeling—a tangled mix of fear, longing, and a desperate kind of hope.
Milo’s hands are rough and calloused but they are also gentle, tracing the curves of my body, and caressing every inch with reverence. I close my eyes, allowing myself to be lost in the sensation in the moment because tomorrow is uncertain and yesterday is a blur.
As he slides his hands down my back, I lean into him, relishing the warmth of his body against mine. I crave what Leone has deprived me of for so long – human touch and connection, something I once took for granted. So, the world outside the shower ceases to exist for a brief moment.
But it is only for a moment. Like all good things, it must end. I turn to face Milo, wanting to express all the words that I’ve kept locked inside. But as I open my mouth, I realize words are not enough to convince him to help me. They never have been. So instead, I remain quiet, knowing he’ll never help me over Leone.
“Fallon, we need to hurry,” Milo’s urgent whisper breaks through the warmth, pulling me back to a less forgiving reality. “Leone and I have a meeting with the Mexican cartel soon.”
I turn to face him, the water streaming between us. “Take me with you,” I plead, the desperation in my voice sharper because of the vulnerability I feel with him. I know he is less likely to hurt me, but I also know he would if Leone gave the order to. “I can’t stay here alone. What if something happens? What if you don’t come back?”
