Mafia's Devil part 28

KARINE

Like everything else, Luciano doesn’t care about my shyness.

I have little time to make out what happened between us as he dries me as if I’m an invalid and carries me to my bed in quick strides. He sets my clothes beside me and warns, “change in a minute or I’ll change you myself. We need to go.”

With that, he goes to the window and peeks out of the curtains, as if checking if Maksim’s rescue team is in the backyard. He should have sent someone after me by now.

Just to piss Luciano off, I take longer than needed to slide into my clothes. I walk to the bathroom, slower only because of my bruised ego, and I bunch up toilet paper in my panties to control the blood flow.

“Karine!” Luciano calls for me.

“I’m coming, damn it.”

I touch my forehead, irritated because I can feel my cramps crawling up my system. Without medicine, I’ll truly be crippled. This is the last thing I needed to happen in this kidnapping fiasco. Nothing is going well. If anything, the one that should be bleeding right now is Luciano.

Back in the bedroom, I find him still by the window, his fat wallet in-hand.

Fat wallet. Fat dick. Fat ego. The jerk needs a diet.

He glances at me, rips a blanket off the bed, and tosses it over my shoulders.

“We’re going.”

“Going where, though?”

This is going nowhere. I won’t let this man drag me around the country until one of us ends up getting hurt. There’s no end-game here, only Luciano’s unyielding greed.

“I will figure it out along the way,” he answers and takes my hand, leading me behind him. He smells like the cheap soap we used in the bathroom, his shirt wrinkled but still tight around his expanse shoulders.

“So you can’t tell me where? Can you tell me when? Until when are you doing this?”

“Doesn’t matter. I have the money to keep us going.”

“Money doesn’t make you invisible.”

“No.” He takes my hips and swings me over a pile of snow. After opening the passenger door, he says. “Power does, and I have plenty of that too.”

I stare at him in disbelief, but he’s so used to my judgement that all he does is press a hand against the small of my back and guide me to my seat. He closes my door when I’m buckled and walks around the car to the driver’s seat.

I need to get away from him.

First things first, though. I need clothes. This blanket won’t keep me warm forever.

We’re driving down the snowy road with nothing but silence and disdain between us. I can't stand him, and he can’t seem to stand what he feels for me— whatever that is.

“How is your flow?” he asks randomly.

Asking about my red out of the blue. Hah.

“What? Are you afraid I’ll get blood on your precious leather seat?” I scoff.

In all honesty, I’m miserable. The cramps are getting stronger, and my irritation is only braiding with the pain.

“I’m serious.”

“Fine. Now stop obsessing over my vagina. Take me back home and go sleep with some other bitch so you can take care of your horniness.”

“It hurts, doesn’t it?” he reads my mind.

“There’s a pharmacy.” I point to the end of the block. “Stop there.”

He parks beside a pile of snow and walks around as if to get my door. I get out of the vehicle to take that from him. The bastard can’t just kidnap me and then try to pass himself as a gentleman. There’s nothing gentle about him— nothing about his body, and less about his character.

He looks annoyed that I stepped out without his help, but takes my hand to lead me into the store. I rip my hand out of his grasp, and walk through the aisles in search of products I need.

I must look like a work of art with this itchy, brown, frilly blanket around me.

When I reach the feminine products section, I look for pads. Although childish and hopeless, I take the most expensive package— a whopping nineteen dollars that won’t even tickle Luciano’s bank account.

I take a packet of underwear, water bottles, junk food, and pain meds. There are no coats being sold, so I’ll have to stick with the blanket for a while longer.

Luciano waits for me by the cashier, intimidating the teenager there, although he’s not even staring at him.

He checks his phone and then looks at my basket. Running a hand through his hair, he asks, “Is that everything?”

I hate how good he looks. Acting on impulse, I ask the cashier, “What’s the most expensive item here?”

The kid types on the computer, giving Luciano a nervous look. “Uh, it’s a $475 medical device.”

“I’ll take fifty of those. Donate them to the nearest hospital anonymously.”

I cross my arms over my chest. There. That should put a small dent in Luciano’s bank account and mood. If he’s smart, he’ll let me go before I make him go bankrupt.

There’s a metallic clink as a black credit card is dropped on the counter. I look over my shoulder to glare at Luciano.

With a calm face, he says, “Do as she says.”

Outraged, I stomp outside as my items get rung up. I just blew twenty thousand dollars on his credit, and he doesn’t even bat an eye?

“Ugh!”

Minutes later, I hear, “You shouldn’t stand in the cold.”

Luciano stands beside me, holding plastic bags full of my things. He looks odd, because I know men like him don’t do their own grocery shopping.

“You shouldn’t step on my toes, but it’s all you seem to do,” I toss back.

“I bought the medical devices for you. Why aren’t you happy?”

“Because you were supposed to get angry!”

He frowns and sets the bags in the back seat. “Why would I be angry? It’s not a big deal. Besides, maybe some philanthropy will save my soul from burning in hell.”

I think the only person at risk of burning is me from how pissed I am.

“I’ll take you to a diner for breakfast, and then we’re leaving.”

I pull a water bottle and toss back a pill to soothe my stomach. Once I eat and rest for a few minutes, I’m leaving Luciano in the dust.

He drives for half an hour, bouncing to the next town. We stop at the first diner we spot, and I exit the car before he can get the door.

I take the bags, because I know I’ll need them when I run. Luciano gives me a questionable look.

“I need the pads and underwear,” I explain.

He shrugs me off and leads the way. We go up a flight of stairs and enter a warm, relatively empty spot. The server is quick to take our orders, and I ask for waffles, bacon, and orange juice.

Luciano orders coffee. Black, like his soul.

I eat as he remains preoccupied by his cellphone.

“I’m going to change,” I tell him when I’m done eating.

“Alright.”

I take the bags, change onto a pad quickly, and sneak toward the staircase. I don’t dare to look back as I push past the door. I don’t get far.

“Wrong way.” A hand grasps my forearm — Luciano. Of course.

He smells of coffee and rage.

I act impulsively. Violently.

I shove him, not realizing the staircase was right behind him. He releases my arm as he stumbles, realizing he would have taken me down with him, and then he rolls until landing with an impossible thud.

Without looking back, I run down the hall with my bags and kidnapper abandoned.

a/n: was she wrong for leaving?