My Masters' Nightmare Season 1, Episode 5 Escape (7 page)

I glanced at him. He was now
staring down
at his hands, looking sad. I knew he was thinking about his
rapists, Alberto and the priest definitely deserving a painful
death at the Black Russian’s hands.

“
No matter
how much Frano fucks me off,” I said, “what happened to those
Russians isn’t his fault.”

“
It will be
in the Black Russian’s eyes, and nothing will change that, so we
need to kill him as well as get Sophia out.”

“
No, I need
to take the Russian to the FBI, my
famiglia
still has unfinished business with
them,” I said slowly, my brain working twice as much, making sure I
didn’t trip over my lies.

“
The
Black Russian is too powerful, the only way he’ll go down is
through death, and I’ll be the one who’ll take him there. If he
wants to bed me, I will give him the last orgasm he’ll ever
have.”

“You can’t, you’ve been
abused enough.”

“
I won’t be
the one dying
,” he said, indicating for me to turn right.

I
steered into the dark road, wondering
whether his plan was better than mine. In all likelihood it
probably was, and could possibly save more lives, especially since
my way wouldn’t be instantaneous, the red tape alone a major
hindrance.

Jagger pointed to my
right.
“Turn
down there.”

I did what he said. The road
was long and straight allowing me to pick up speed. I could see
that Jagger was growing more and more agitated as the minutes
ticked by—probably over the possibility of his family getting hurt.
He was tapping his leg, constantly looking at the odometer, no
doubt wanting me to go faster, but he kept quiet, only his actions
telling me to hurry up.

A
bout twenty minutes later we finally
turned into his driveway, which practically kissed the shore, the
shimmer of the moon dancing across the water. I pulled the car in
front of the large Mediterranean-styled house. Only a few lights
were on inside with no sign of disturbance. Jagger and I jumped out
of the car, Jagger faster than me, my nerves about seeing Frano
again kicking in. I shoved the feeling deep down inside of me, and
ran after Jagger, grabbing his arm before he entered the
house.

“
Remember,
” I said quietly, “don’t tell them who I really
am, then we can both get my sister back.”

“
Okay, but
l
et
me take the lead.” He freed his arm and grabbed my wrist. Still
clutching the gun I’d given him, he pulled me inside. “Thierry!” he
called out, heading for the main staircase. “Frano!”

Footsteps answered, the sound
coming from the passage on the other side of the dining-room.
Jagger practically dragged me around the table, no doubt eager to
see his brother and cousin. As he neared the door he stopped
suddenly, letting out a yell. In the passage doorway stood Alberto.
His face was swollen and red, his appearance even more hideous than
usual.

Letting go of me,
Jagger lifted the
gun and fired at him, causing Alberto to retreat into the
passageway. Jagger ran after him. I yelled at him to stop, but he
charged ahead regardless. I followed him, finding him looking at
all the doors, no doubt wondering which one Alberto had disappeared
into.

“
Alberto,” he
yelled. “Come out!” When no one answered, he placed a hand on the
left door and turned the handle.

The door on our right shot
open.
Alberto barged out of it, his sudden appearance taking both
me and Jagger by surprise. He plowed into Jagger, sending both of
them crashing into the adjacent room, the door banging against the
wall as they hit it. Jagger cried out, the momentum sending him
sprawling across the floor, his grip on the gun lost. Alberto
landed on top of him then lunged for the gun. I went for Alberto,
but skidded to a halt as he turned the gun on me. “Back off,
bitch!” he yelled, looking vicious.

I
raised my hands and took a few steps
back.

Keeping the gun
trained on me, he
pushed to his feet. “Up,” he said to Jagger.

“
Just shoot
me,
”
Jagger said, his voice broken. He was lying face down, not
moving.

Alberto kicked him.
“Up!”

Jagger cried out, but still
didn’t move. Alberto kicked him harder, causing Jagger to holler
and curl up into a ball.

“
Stop
it!
”
I shouted. “You don’t need to hurt him.”

“
Then make
him stand.”

Not taking my eyes off Alberto,
I moved forward cautiously and bobbed down next to Jagger. “Just do
as he says.”

Jagger shook his
head.

“
Then she’s
dead,” Alberto said, cocking the gun.

Before I knew what was
happening, Jagger spun around
and pushed me down, blanketing my body with his
own.

“
Oh, for
fuck’s sake,” Alberto growled, “just get off her and I promise not
to shoot the bitch—for now.”

Jagger hesitated then pushed
off me. He got to his feet and moved in front of Alberto. “You can
shoot me,” he said, holding his arms out wide.

Alberto leered at him.
“Only with cum.”

“
I’m not
your
puttano
!” Jagger yelled, looking ready to attack.

“No, you’re my
lover.”

“
I’m
no one’s lover! And Frano won’t stand for this.”

“
He won’t
have a choice. He should never have
gone to the Donatelli to get you
back.”

“What?” Jagger croaked
out.

“
He went to
the House of Whores.” Alberto laughed. “And now you turn up here,
naked and ready for my cock: it’s fate, Jagger, you’re mine and he
can’t do
merda
about it.”

“Where’s
Thierry?”

“With Frano.”

Jagger put his hands to his
head. “Phone Frano, tell him I’m safe.”

“The only person I will be
phoning is the Black Russian.”

“
No, we need
to warn Frano and Thierry or the Donatelli will kill
them.”

“
They won’t
kill them, they’re in mourning. My stupid wife accidentally
poisoned Don Donatelli and Lucky.”

Jagger’s face fell. “Where
is she?” he croaked out.

“
In
hospital
, and unfortunately breathing—for now.”

“
You
bastardo
!” Jagger yelled, taking a step forward.

Alberto aimed the gun at me.
“Unless you want her dead, I’d suggest you get your pretty
culo
down to the cells,
so I can make that call to the Black Russian.”

“Why are you calling
him?”

“
To tell him
about what the Donatelli have done to his guards and
Sasha.”

“
You can’t,
you’ll get Frano killed.”

“
He won’t
kill Frano, he likes him too much. Apparently, he wants to lick
him. And since Frano won’t let me have you, then the Black Russian
can have him.”

“He’s your
brother!”

“
He
threatened to kill me today if I touch you again. If anyone else
had said that they would be dead, but I love Frano, so this is my
only means to keep him alive
and
out of my way.”

“
By letting
the Black Russian use him?”

“
Only as a
trainer. Frano will be safe, and I’ll finally get what’s
mine.”

“I’m not
yours!”

“
S
ì
, you are, but that wasn’t what I was
talking about. I meant the house.”

“
That’s in
Frano’s name.”

“
Not after I
petition the court.”

“
They won’t
give it to you.”

“
They
will once they find out Frano’s not even a D’Angelo, and since he’s
being a prick, I don’t care if he finds out anymore.”

“
What are you
talking about?”

“
His father
was my mother’s lover.”

“You’re lying.”

“
My father’s
the one who told me. And now that prick’s dead, I’m claiming my
inheritance.”

“
No!” Jagger
went for Alberto
, a gunshot stopping him in his tracks. His eyes
shot to me, fear coloring his face.

I touched my neck and looked
down at my hand. Blood smeared it, the bullet having grazed my
flesh.

“
That was a
warning shot,” Alberto said, “the next one will hit the jugular.
So, get your ass downstairs. Now!”

Jagger grabbed my arm and
yanked me along with him. With Alberto following us, we headed down
to the slave cells, walking right back into captivity. Alberto
smiled at us from the other side of the door, then pulled it shut,
locking us in.

Jagger groaned. “From one
prison to another.”

“
Frano will
help you,” I said, not
confident in that, knowing he was walking into a
snake pit at the Donatelli.

Jagger breathed out, his
expression sad, his eyes even sadder. “That’s if he’s even alive.”
He
looked up
at the ceiling as though talking to God. “This can’t be happening,
I can’t take Alberto anymore.” He dropped his gaze, giving me a
pleading look. “Kill me.”

I shook my
head.

He screwed up his face.
“Please.”

“
I can’t,” I
said, feeling uncomfortable, his expression so familiar, his eyes
... that pleading. It hurt and not just because I felt sorry for
him, no, I wanted to protect him, had
always wanted to protect
him.
Where
the hell did that come from?
I thought.

“
Then if you
won’t,
I’ll make Alberto kill me,” he snapped, his face turning
angry. “I’ll push him so hard he loses his temper, because
anything’s better than existing like this.”

“
Just
calm
down,” I said, reaching for him.

He hit my hands away. “Don’t
touch me!”

I lowered my hands. “We escaped
from the Donatelli, we’ll escape from him too.”

He
shook his head. “I will never escape
him—other than through death. Like the
Padre
, he has ruined me.” He closed his eyes.
“Even when he’s not here, I can see him,” he ran a hand down his
stomach, “and feel him.”

“
I
understand
how you feel—”

His eyes snapped
open
. “You
can’t!”

“
I do,
and you’ll get through this.”

“
The priest
trying to drown you isn’t the same thing. I was eleven when he
first raped me. Eleven!”

“
I was
sixteen when he raped me.” I froze, those words coming out of
nowhere.

Jagger’s face dropped.
“What did you say?”

I stared at him, confusion
taking over me as the memory flooded my mind. The priest was raping
me, pushing his cock inside of me, making me bleed, scream, and
cry. He was too big, the man laughing as he split me in two. I’d
fallen unconscious during it, then had woken up with my head being
pushed under water. A male voice had screamed at him to let me go,
that he would do anything if they just let me go. And the priest
had—literally, allowing my body to drift away on the lake. No, it
wasn’t a lake, it was a river, because the flow had taken a hold of
my body, battering it against rocks, until someone had pulled me
out. A mouth had touched mine, breathing air back into my body. I
had coughed out the water, then had opened my eyes and looked up at
a kind face: my foster father’s.

Looking concerned,
he’
d brushed
my wet hair aside, the name that fell from his lips stunning
me.

Jagger grabbed my arms,
snapping me out of the memory. “What did y
ou say?” he asked, his face filled
with concern.

I
stared up at him, remembering
everything and not understanding any of it. He’d been a skinny boy
the last time I’d seen him. I’d gone to his room to give him his
sixteenth birthday present, but he’d wanted something else instead.
He’d kissed me, then had tried to undress me, ripping my blouse in
his excitement. I’d panicked and pushed him away, making him fall
onto his bed. He’d started crying, saying that he knew I’d turn him
down, that he wasn’t good enough for me, that he was tainted and
dirty. Then it had all spilled out, Jagger confessing what the
priest had done to him. I’d stared at him in horror, not wanting to
believe any of it. He’d got off the bed and walked towards me,
holding his arms out, wanting me to comfort him, but instead I’d
ran to his cousin, needing Frano to tell me that Jagger was lying.
But when Frano had opened the door, I’d burst into tears, unable to
say a word, because deep down I had known that Jagger was telling
the truth, my mind unable to handle it. Before I knew it, I was
sobbing on Frano’s shoulder, then kissing him in his bed. My
boyfriend had just told me he’d been raped and sexually abused for
years, yet I’d made love to his cousin straight afterwards. I’d
hurt Jagger like everyone else had, had walked out on him when he’d
needed me the most.