Page 48 of Condemned to You

I followed her to an open area with a stage set up and a few people gathered around. A man walked onto the stage and asked the crowd, “Which lovely lady would like to be our muse for tonight?”

Grace wanted to come to this exclusive sex party that catered to her favorite sexual desire. I was willing to try anything once but made it clear once things got weird, I was gone. This game they would play tended to be over the top for my liking. The rules were simple. The crowd dictated your moves. They tell you what position, where to touch, and how much to inflict on the other person.

Grace stepped forward in her see through lace bra and underwear. The man smiled and invited her on the stage. Her nipples were poking through the sheer fabric as you heard the AC turn up.

A man addressed the crowd, “What kind of play should our beautiful muse here endure for the evening?”

I became uncomfortable as people in the crowd began shouting out answers.

“Orgy.”

“Woman on woman.”

“Rape.”

The man on the stage nodded his head in approval. That was my cue to leave. As I made my way through the growing crowd, I found my clothes and threw them on. Grace found her way here, she could find her way back. It was cold and the wind hit my face like slashes of a whip. Quickly getting into my car, I felt an immediate shift in tension as I knew I wasn’t the only one in the car by the sound of the gun click and the metal barrel against my head.

“Drive.”

I glanced at my rearview and met a pair of brown eyes. “Do you know who I am?”

“Very well.” The man’s voice held a threat. “Now like I said, drive. And no funny business.”

Starting the car, I left the parking spot and took his direction driving down the winding road.

“Who are you?”

“I believe you call me ghost.”

My body tensed. Immediately I knew what he was referring to. He had been the ghost we had been looking for unsuccessfully. It sent chills down my spine knowing this person was in my backseat unapologetically.

“For a second I thought I may have had a stalker although I would have preferred a female – they have sites for that you know. Hurts less to know you’d get swiped left.”

“Humorous,” the man commented, “Tell me, does Aria still have those haunting dreams of me?”

“You’ve been long forgotten,” I lied.

This was the man who left burn marks on Aria’s back. We have been looking for him since without any luck.

“Alfie, is short for Alfred I assume. Is that a family name?”

Glancing between my rearview and the road, I replied, “You can ask the priest who found me.”

“An orphan.”

My hands gripped the steering wheel and the uneasy feeling was starting to bottom up a negative emotion. I had long stopped calling myself an orphan – the DeCarlo family took me in and cared for me in more ways than any foster family had. I didn’t have it rough growing up like other kids, but I never got the close familial bond until I encountered the DeCarlos.

“Is that what you want to talk about?” I mocked. “Usually, people don’t need to sneak into my car with a gun for that.”

“I have a proposition for you.”

“Bite me,” I replied.

“Emilio wouldn’t be so quick to turn something down without getting all the details.”

“I’m not Emilio.”

“Of course not, he’s free from the shackles of the DeCarlo family. Shackles that you now wear.”