Chapter Three
Jessie yawned as the bus dropped her off at her stop. She rubbed her sleepy eyes. She slept late last night, trying to finish her latest romance novel. Books had always been her guilty pleasure growing up and she never got tired of her addiction. Maybe one nice big cappuccino would help. Mama Rossi’s served breakfast, but there were more customers at lunch and dinner time.
Jessie peered through the windows of the restaurant. Huh. Empty. Maybe she was early for once. Nice. Tony didn’t need to yell at her for being late.
She turned the knob and entered the establishment. Goosebumps dotted her skin as she looked around the space. The place was deserted. She took out her phone and checked the time. 7:30 AM. At this time of the morning, half the staff would be here.
Jessie didn’t feel completely awake. She’d grab that coffee and find out what was going on. The staff were welcome to use the expensive espresso machine in the kitchen, as long as they knew how to operate it and didn’t break it.
As she walked, she noticed a text message she must’ve missed last night. It was from Tony, asking everyone to come in later this morning. Breakfast service would be canceled. Sweat beaded on her forehead and dripped down her back. How could she have missed that?
She began to backtrack. It wasn’t too late to run out the front door. Light emanated from the foot of the door of the private room next to the kitchen. Jessie swore she heard voices inside. Multiple ones. The hairs on her arms rose.
“Leave, come back later. Pretend you weren’t here,” she whispered to herself.
Jessie eyed the front door. She took a step forward. A gut-wrenching scream punctured the air, freezing her in her tracks. Another high-pitched wail followed, along with a man’s pleas and cries. She must be imagining the sound—except she knew she wasn’t.
An uneasy feeling started in the pit of her stomach. It was the same bad feeling that assailed her when she’d walked inside the frighteningly quiet house she’d lived in with her mother. There, she’d found her mother’s corpse, hanging under a ceiling fan and silently swaying back and forth thanks to the fan’s movement. A pile of shoes underneath her bloodless feet.
Swallowing bile down her throat, Jessie looked from the lighted room and back to the front door again. Her way out. She felt like Bluebeard’s wife or Pandora. Jessie didn’t know what made her close her hand on the knob leading to the private room. Morbid fascination maybe?
Whoever was inside let out another piteous scream. Her skin crawled. A man was in there. He sounded like he was being tortured. What should she do? Call the cops? If she did that, there would be no place inOakheartCity for her to hide. The Rossi Family controlled this city with an iron fist. They were the predators at the top of the food chain while Jessie was a nobody.
She let go of the knob only to watch it turn, as if by magic. Jessie remained where she was, like a deer caught in the headlights as the door swung inward. A thin pale man with greasy black hair wore a grin on his face. He was laughing while someone else was being hurt, possibly being tortured in there, Jessie thought, feeling sick.
The man scowled when he saw her. “Who the fuck are you?” he demanded.
Jessie peeked over his shoulder. Her insides turned inside out and her bile rose. Plastic sheets covered the floors and walls. Piero dangled in the middle of the room. His wrists were bound to some kind of hook from the ceiling while his feet dragged on the floor. He was also naked. Splotches of blood, made vivid against his white skin, covered his entire body.
Jessie refused to look at the—oh, God. Were those body parts? None of it made any sense, especially not the big man wielding a wickedly sharp butcher’s knife. He didn’t wear a shirt. Just worn-in blue jeans and those familiar practical work boots he favored. A crazy thought occurred to her. She’d never seen him without a shirt before. His entire upper body, including his arms and neck, were covered with black ink. He also had pierced nipples. She would’ve found him utterly sexy if the situation wasn’t so dire.
Sergio paused from his task and looked right at her. Surprise flashed across his grim features, followed by defeat and weariness. The scar on his face seemed to ripple under the bright and stark single bulb that illuminated the room.
The thin pale man in the suit grabbed her shoulders and shook her. “I asked you a question, bitch.”
“Baldo, let her go. I know her,” Sergio said through gritted teeth.
He definitely didn’t look pleased to see her. The momentBaldoreleased her, Jessie broke her momentary paralysis. She shot out the front door like a runner, although she’d never been good in sports her entire life. Her heart raced, threatened to claw its way out of her chest. Her breathing turned harsh. She would never outrun him or Sergio. She needed to get away. Pronto.
Baldoyelled behind her, but she ignored him. Jessie flagged a cab, and by some miracle, the car stopped right in front of her. She got in, slammed the door shut just asBaldopounded his fists at the glass.
“Drive,” Jessie yelled.
The driver grunted but did as she asked. “Look, lady. I don’t want any trouble.”
“That was my ex-boyfriend. I need to get away from him. Please.” Jessie surprised herself. The lies came easily to her tongue. The driver looked at her through the rearview mirror. She must have appeared spooked because he nodded grimly. Was that sympathy on his face?
“I’ll get you to wherever you want to go.”
Jessie gave him his address. It felt like an eternity before she finally arrived at where she’d been only an hour before. She paid him and bolted right inside her apartment building. Then she jabbed the elevator button, relieved when the doors finally opened. She looked at the doors leading outside, almost expecting Sergio or one of his suits to burst in. The elevator doors hissed closed and sagged against the wall. Once it opened to her floor, she darted out the corridor. Jessie fumbled for her keys. She felt a lot safer and a little less paranoid once she was inside her unit.
After setting all the locks, she slumped to the floor. She lived in an unsafe part of town, so the locks were a good investment. Would they protect her from what she’d stumbled upon? Maybe everything had been one bad nightmare. If so, she desperately wanted to wake up now.
“It couldn’t be him,” she whispered to herself.
Jessie shut her eyes. She put the pale thin man out of her mind. It was Sergio she pictured, standing next to the tortured man. Sergio holding the knife. He didn’t wear a shirt because it would get dirty with blood. How practical.
A giggle escaped her lips. An ugly sound.