Kira
I sit at the window. It’s open and overlooks the garden where I watch the guards patrolling. I count as they walk, timing how far they go, how long they stop, and where they go next. How long does that take? I track it in my mind.
When you’re a chef, you’re required to remember many complicated things, from ingredients to measurements to tastes to how to tell if something is perfectly cooked. How to select fresh items. I smile. I excel because I have an excellent memory, and it’s serving me well now.
I strip my bed and start to knot the sheets together. I don’t know if this will actually work or if it will hold my weight because I’ve only ever seen this done in movies, but I need to try to get out of here.
What’s Miguel going to do if I get caught? Ground me?
I time the guards carefully. I don’t want to mess up this chance. I give it an hour, maybe two, to ensure that there is a routine to their patrol.
It’s getting closer to dinner, and they’ll come to tell me to get dressed soon. I have to get out of here before that.
A guard walks from the left toward my window. I count slowly to a minute, then another minute. I watch as the guard passes under my window and wait until he turns the corner. I have four minutes before the next guard walks by.
I toss the makeshift rope out the window and throw my legs over the ledge. I take a deep breath, don’t hesitate, and shimmy down the cloth quickly. I hear a slight tearing noise, but it holds just long enough for me to get to the bottom. I’m about five feet from the bottom, so I dangle at the edge of the cloth and drop, bracing myself.
I don’t pause but limp to the right. High hedges cover this side, so no one could have seen me once I hit the ground, but someone is sure to notice the makeshift rope hanging out the window.
I peek around the corner, it’s clear, so I shuffle around it and make my way up the pathway.
I need to find the exit, and I need to find it fast, but moving too quickly will get me chased and probably caught since I don’t know my way around the garden. So I sneak as quickly as possible, hiding in the bushes.
I pass a guard facing away from me, holding my breath again so he doesn’t hear me. I don’t let my breath out until I’m a few yards away. I glance past the bushes and see a pathway around the garden to the gate.
The gate! I inspect it closely. Guards are posted on either side of the gate, so there won’t be a way to sneak past them down the middle; there’s no coverage. I look at the corner nearest the entrance. It’s far enough away and covered by enough bushes that I could hide while I scale the wall. There are also vines growing up the wall and fence in the corner, which will give me more purchase if they’re thick enough.
Now to get there.
I slowly creep along the side of the garden until I get to the section of hedges lining the end. Again there’s a small pathway between the tall hedges and the boundary wall, but the plants and vines here are more unkempt. It doesn’t look like this is a regularly patrolled area. I grin at my luck and slowly tiptoe my way down the pathway, casting a glance back every now and then to ensure no guards can spot me. I keep low, even though the hedges are high because the last thing I want to do is be spotted. I reach the corner without a problem and quickly dart behind the large bush hiding the corner of the estate.
The guards at the gate won’t be able to see me until I scale the fence here, and by then, it will be too late. I can run for it as soon as I’m over and get to someone who can call the cops or get somewhere I can call Alessandro.
I start to scale the fence slowly, and it shakes more than I would like it to. Starting to panic, I climb quickly and pause when I reach the top. Thin wires run across the top.
An electric fence.
They generally hurt, but if I’m quick enough, maybe it won’t be more than a sting. However, there might be an alarm attached. I bite my lip, but I’ve hesitated too long and been too distracted with my contemplation.
Hands roughly grab my legs and drag me down the fence. Two guards shout to each other as I hit the ground hard. My ankle pains, and I cry out. They each grab an arm, and although I kick and scream, they drag me back toward the house and into the living room.
“Kira. Kira. Kira.” Miguel looks at me from his seat on the armchair. The guards drop me in front of him. “Didn’t I tell you, you would be punished if you didn’t behave?”
I glare at him but don’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction.
“I’ve ordered the guards to nail your window shut, don’t worry, there’s air conditioning in the house, so you shouldn’t be too hot. Also, I will now be posting a guard under your window as well as outside your doors.”
“Asshole.” I spit at him, then throw a slew of Italian curse words about him, his mama, and his nonna his way just for good measure.
I stop when I see the cold look in his eyes and shake my head. “I’m going back to my prison now.”
“You give no orders in this house. This is my kingdom. I warned you, Kira.”
He stands tall and foreboding above me.
“Get out.” He looks at his guards, and they leave, shutting the door behind them.
“What are…Miguel!” I cry out as he drags me up by my arm. His grip is tight and painful. I try to pull away, but he’s too strong. I try to kick him, but I miss him, and my ankle pains again.
He sits on the armchair, yanking me down, stomach first, over his lap.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I shriek.
What little dignity I have is gone as he yanks down my pants and thong. There’s a moment of stillness.
Smack.
I grimace as his hand hits the bare flesh of my ass cheeks. I don’t cry out, though. I’m not giving him that. There’s another pause. I’m wondering if that’s all there is.
Smack.
Harder this time, my skin stings and burns where his hand made contact. I shake my head, I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes, but I’m willing them not to fall.
Smack.
His grip loosens, and with a nudge of his knee, I’m tossed to the ground in front of him.
“If you want to behave like a child, I will treat you like one, Kira.” His voice feels cold and distant. I hurry to pull my thong and pants up and glare at him, tears still threatening in my eyes.
“Fuck you, Miguel.”
“You did once,” he comments. “It was good.” I look away, and he snickers.
“Guards.”
They come back into the room at that point and come to stand near me.
“Take her back to her room. Make sure the maids bring her new bedding, so he’s comfortable.” He kneels next to me. “Better make your list of what you want, or you will be living in your own filth.”
He steps over me, almost on me, but I move at the last moment. His large stride takes him out of the room and out of sight.
One of the guards reaches for my arm, and I snarl, “I can get up myself.”
He backs off, surprised. I limp out of the room and toward the stairs. It takes me a while to get to the top, and then I slowly go to my room, slamming the door behind me.
Miguel
I sit in my office with my hand stinging from hitting her. I hit her. I’ve never hit a woman before that didn’t want it. I certainly never hit her when we were together. I stare at my hand, and I shake my head. I warned her. How many times had I warned her?
I light a cigar and move to sit in front of the open window that overlooks the garden, and I remember. I remember what it was like the first time I ever saw her.
Thirteen Years Earlier
University has been the best escape from my father. It’s the best idea -he wants me to have an education, and I want to be anywhere he isn’t. It’s a win-win situation.
Classes are interesting enough. There’s so much to learn, but even better are all the women on campus. I’ve certainly flirted with my fair share of them, but they’re all the same-cookie-cutter girls looking for an American boy to build an American life with.
I am in one of the top frat houses, but I suffered for it. My first year of university was hell on Earth. I was the greasy Italian kid until one frat boy took it too far, and some of my cousins paid him a visit.
Since then, I’ve quickly risen in popularity, and everyone knows I throw the best parties around town.
Today is no exception to the other happy days I’m enjoying. I sit in my Economics class, listening to the professor drone on and on. I’ve already taken down the notes for this class, it’s almost finished, and then I’m free for the remainder of the day.
The bell sounds, and the professor yells out reminders about upcoming tests over the noise. I pack away my laptop into my backpack and throw it over my shoulder. I run a hand through my hair and follow the throng of people out of the lecture hall.
Outside it’s a beautiful sunny day, and my friend Jeremy waits for me. He’s been nagging me to get in with my family even though I’ve warned him that it isn’t the kind of life people want. He insists, so maybe in summer, I’ll invite him over to the beach house and introduce him to my father.
Jeremy slaps a hand on my shoulder. “Interesting lecture?”
I shake my head. “Easy enough, didn’t really have to use the old brain to work out what the professor was talking about.”
“That’s cause you’re too smart for your own good, Miggie.” I hate that nickname, but everyone calls me Miggie on campus. My father would have a coronary if he heard it. Miggie doesn’t command respect. Miggie doesn’t instill a sense of importance.
“I named you Miguel after a strong man in our family for a reason!” That’s what my padre would say if he heard what people called me. I’d have to tell Jeremy not to use that name when we’re at the beach house, or my father will do worse things to him than not let him in the family. He’d probably do worse things to me too.
We step onto the grass outside the main building and walk toward the courtyard, where everyone has lunch. A few of the frat brothers are meeting us there, and from there, we’re going to decide what we’re doing for lunch.
The loud and obnoxious groups of Delta Kapa Delta’s can be heard from far away at the noise level they’re at. I smile as they all start smacking me on the back in their aggressive greeting. It’s how they show they care about you in a very manly way. None of them would cop to that, though. I certainly wouldn’t.
“What’s for lunch, boys?” I ask, sitting on a stone table that they’ve surrounded.
“I need to carbo-load, so I say pizza from Capizzi. We can get two each and see who finishes the fastest.”
“Capizzi’s makes decent food. I won’t lie. But I’m not buying today.
It’s someone else’s turn. You guys arm wrestle and see who’s paying.”
I move off the table, and immediately they start challenging each other. I feel so powerful when I get them to do what I want. I glance around the courtyard and am about to issue my own challenge when I see her.
She’s definitely Italian, with dark hair that falls in luscious thick curls from her head. Her nose is stuck in a book, so I can’t see her eye color, but she’s got a nice body covered in curves. My brain is already picturing those in just lingerie.
“Boys, I’ll be back,” I call. They all glance at me and then start wolf-whistling, cheering me on. I ignore them. Running a hand through my hair, I go over to where she is.
“Can I join you?” I ask, smiling widely.
She doesn’t even look up. “No.”
I frown. “That’s not very friendly.” I sit down regardless. “What’s wrong?”
She still doesn’t look up. “Why must something be wrong just because I don’t want to pay attention to you?”
Ouch. I smile again. “I’m just trying to be helpful. You look new. I generally know everyone who comes here. I like to be helpful.”
“I’m sure the other ladies thank you for your service,” she says sarcastically.
I don’t know what this woman’s problem is, but I have never wanted to win someone over quite as badly as her. She is challenging me. She doesn’t care who I am or what I represent. This is definitely going to be fun.
“Look, I’m sorry. Let’s start over. I’m Miguel, from Delta Kappa Delta Frat house. I’m sorry I came over and bothered you, but I just saw you, and something about you spoke to me.” I sit back. “Is that cheesy?”
Finally, she looks up at me, and I feel as though the air has been knocked right out of me. Those blue-gray eyes bore into me, and she quirked an eyebrow. “Does that line actually work?”
“Sometimes,” I tease. “Sometimes I get chewed out. Not this bad, though.”
She shakes her head. “Look, I’m sure you’re good at what you do, and I know you’re trying to impress Fred and the gang over there. I’m here to study, not to play with little boys.”
I cough slightly. “I can assure you. I’m anything but little.”
She snorts, “Now you really have something to prove. I’m just not interested, Miguel.”
“At least tell me your name.”
She sighs. “If I tell you my name will you leave me alone?” she asks.
“For today,” I assure her, “but I’m going to find you every day and ask you out until you go on a date for me. I’m determined now. I can’t be stalking someone without a name, though.”
“Stalking is creepy,” she shakes her head, “and I have boundaries.”
“If I can come up with an interesting way to ask you out,” I say, “without being creepy or an asshole or crossing any boundaries. Will you go out with me?”
She studies me, and I almost hold my breath in anticipation.
“My name is Kira,” she says. “You have a deal. You come up with a way that isn’t flashy or expensive, and that isn’t embarrassing, and I’ll go out on a date with you. Good luck with that.”
“I’m gonna try every day,” I promise her as I stand up, “’cause you’re worth it.”
She shakes her head again and returns to her book while I saunter over to the boys.
Present Day
Just thinking about how enamored I was with her makes my blood boil. I stub out the cigarette, the fifth cigarette I’ve smoked, and stand up. I need to work off this excess anger, or something is going to go terribly wrong.
My hand at least has stopped stinging, but now I can’t get those blue-gray eyes out of my mind.
I decide to change and go jogging on the treadmill, but first, I take out my phone and call Lyle.
“Yeah, boss?”
“Call Dr. De Oliveira, tell her to come to see our hostage’s ankle in the morning. Can’t be returning broken goods to the Sorvinos.” I don’t wait for his response. I hang up and leave my office-still haunted by those blue-gray eyes filled with passion.