The Calabrese won’t care if the girls are released now. They got their use out of them and they’ve been sold. What better place to hide than with the enemy? But there is a nagging suspicion in the back of my head that tells me this is just way too easy.
Sal’s face was shocked at the thought of human trafficking, and I’ve never heard the Michelis associated with it before, but that’s not the gospel. Just rumors and innuendos.
Who really knows the truth about anything when men who make their living off of lies, double crosses, and violence?
Matteo leads me into a room that reminds me of summer. Sheers in the large window with green and yellows curtains pulled to the side that fit snugly into a glass and stainless steels tieback hooks that match the curtain rod. The color continues to the quilt on the bed and matching bed linens.
This room is very feminine for a guest room, and I assume his mother, or a girlfriend helped him decorate it. Or maybe he had a girlfriend live here at some point in time. The jealousy I feel is pushed down, because I have nothing to be jealous about. Sal and I together would be a disaster of epic proportions.
My eyes come to rest on the bed where jeans, a t-shirt and boat shoes are all laid out as if they knew I was coming.
A bathroom adjoins the room and glancing in, I’m greeted with a row of jars and bottles that look like moisturizers and bottles of expensive perfumes on the marble countertops. Now, I feel like I’m intruding. Does it belong to a current girlfriend or one from the past?
Matteo cuts the rope around me feet and I waste no time in pulling my dress off. I don’t even care at this point if I’m naked in front of him. I slide my panties off, letting them fall to the ground all too suggestively hoping to distract him. When I fail to unnerve him, I step out of my tight dress. I hope he gets excited and has to jerk off in a paper napkin later.
I don’t even cover myself as I reach for the jeans and slip into them. They’re a tad big but a welcome change as far as comfort goes.
Matteo is looking extremely uncomfortable with me in a strapless bra as I hold my arms and he slips the shirt over my head, then, one arm at a time. While he re-ties my wrists, I check my look in the mirror.
The t-shirt logo is a big red mouth with a tongue sticking out. Ha, how appropriate. I recall it was one of those eighties' bands, Aerosmith or The Stones. Hard to be sure when both lead singers have big lips.
I’m allowed a bathroom break with the door open and enjoy a refreshing splash of cold water on my face as I wash my hands. Matteo instructs me to hold out my hands, re-ties my wrists and checks my knots before we head back to the living room. I’d love a shower but I’m not pushing my luck.
Matteo reties me to the chair and I hear Sal outside the house. There are numerous voices outside and I have no clue what is going on.
An hour passes and Sal returns, carrying bags of cash, my cash, and the fake IDs I had made for me and Sofia.
God damn, him.He’s smarter than I thought. I knew I overplayed the sentimental value of the car.
Damn.
He reads me like the simple instructions on a container of microwaveable macaroni and cheese. Somehow America’s gooey cheesy dish is the latest, hottest trend in Italy, the land of pasta.
We can thank the American burger joint that made melted yellow cheese so popular it had to get its own spot on shelfs in the stores the only held European cheeses for centuries.
“How did you know to tear my car apart?” I ask him but I already know the answer. I should have been a detective instead of trying to be a smuggler.
When it came time to hide that stuff, I knew better than to put it in the trunk. Instead, I had the inside of the doors lined with the money and the IDs, thinking no one would look there. Well, no one but Sal, apparently.
“You’re not very trusting, are you?” He eyes me but it’s not out of contempt. A devilish grin covers his face from ear to ear. “I don’t like to underestimate my opponent.” He walks closer to me. “Care to explain?” He waves the ID in my face and sits down in front of me. I’m on the losing end of this and I know it.
“Look, I came with what I could, not knowing if I would ever go back home. That’s everything I have. I had to take it with me, naturally.” My voice growing softer as my anxiety increases.
My heart feels like it’s having palpitations and I could use a stiff drink right about now to circumvent hyperventilating.
“Naturally,” he agrees with brooding eyes that study me.
I casually look to his high cheekbones and breathe him in thinking I shouldn’t be this hot in cooler clothing. “Look, I’ll help you in the club with the Albanian thing and you help me with finding the girls. Sofia maybe one of them. This is real, and I need to find her. No one deserves the life those girls get, least of all Sofia. Her husband is a ruthless pig and is already parading around with some skank he picked up in a striper bar.”
Sal puts the IDs down and grows quiet. He pensive face must mean he’s considering my proposition.
“Where do you think they are?” he breaks the silence.
“No clue, Fausto, my brother led me here. But the girls haven’t been gone that long and must not be too far. If I had to guess, they are up here somewhere since they come in at the Port of Civitavecchia. And in case you missed geography class, there isn’t much south of that Port, so I assume they went north.” I shrug my shoulders. “It’s logical.”
He covers his eyes with his hands for a minute before standing. “I get your point. I don’t know why your brother put you on my tail, I don’t want the syndicate world to think we are traffickers. So, I guess I have some skin in this game too. How dare he blacken my family name?”
His face is one of indignation. He has a valid point. I wouldn’t want to be blamed for something I didn’t do either.