Desolation (New Rochelle Mafia #1)

8. CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 8

ELODIE

S o, my parents’ dealer Dominic is the heir to the mafia family that runs my home town? I always thought he was just a petty mafia drug dealer. A rush of fear spreads through my body and I start to shake. All the threats he has made to me over the years. Saying he will have me eventually. He could actually make that happen. I look at Reba with fear in my eyes. She knows. He’s come into the diner a few times while I was there and she has heard the things he’s said.

After listening to Drake’s explanation, I need some time to think. When the door clicks shut behind him, I immediately turn to Reba, anger and betrayal rushing through my body.

Reba grabs my hand and says, “I know it sounds worse than it is. But I do want the best for you. I don’t have the means to do all the things that Drake can. While I am not telling you to have a relationship with him, because let’s face it, it’s insane what he’s been doing, I am telling you I think you should give him a chance at friendship. I have never once regretted my friendship with Gio.”

Sighing, I close my eyes, which hurts like hell, thank you very much, as I try to hold back tears. This is a lot to take in. I’m angry, don’t get me wrong, but a part of me, a very twisted part of me, is curious. And flattered. And freaked out.

I must be crazy too, right?

All the years of abuse I’ve suffered at the hands of the people who are supposed to love me most have twisted my understanding of what love is. Or just made me so starved for any kind of affection that I find something like this even remotely okay.

I can’t be mad at Reba. Am I hurt that she went behind my back? Yes. But, I understand why she did it. She cares and was just doing the best she could for me.

What I am most concerned about right now is the information I just found out about Dominic. “So, all the things Dominic has said over the years…” Looking at Reba, I see her wince.

“I haven’t said anything because I knew that Drake was keeping an eye on you, but I didn’t know he was the heir. They don’t usually deliver themselves. They have people for that. He could have just been a bagman, or crew member,” she says reluctantly. “Never in a million years would I have thought he was the heir. ”

Well, that’s just great. What the hell are my parents even doing buying drugs from the heir of the Petrucci Familia? Why couldn’t they just buy drugs from some rando? What does the heir to a mafia family want with me and my parents?

They are going to freak out when they realize I’m gone. Especially after them beating me up because I’m usually in my room for days after a beating like this.

My anxiety starts to ramp up and my breathing gets erratic. Reba softly rubs my arm and says, “Just breathe, I know you are freaking out, but just breathe with me.”

Taking a deep breath in through my nose and out through my mouth, even though it hurts like hell, I try to calm myself. Having a panic attack right now is making the pain of my broken nose and face so much worse. I hate my life. The only thing I’ve ever wished for is to have a normal life. But I’m never going to get that. Tears sting my eyes.

The feeling of desperation is taking over. I can’t stay here, can I? Should I? I can’t go to Reba’s because I won’t bring trouble to her door. My panic attack starts to ebb, but I’m still at a loss. I need to figure out a plan.

The fact that Drake has been stalking me all this time is insane, but the reason he has been doing it, to keep me safe, makes me feel cared for. At the end of the day, he doesn’t even really know me. I don’t understand how he thinks he is in love with me. How can he be?

I need answers to the questions I have. But first, I’m so sleepy. Between everything that happened tonight, Drake’s confession, and the small panic attack I am just done.

Reba continues to hold my hand as I fall asleep.

I wake up feeling like I’ve been hit by a Mack truck. My whole body is sore and my face is throbbing. I can barely open my right eye, which I’m sure is because of the socket.

Someone sits on the edge of the bed next to me and I flinch away.

“It’s just me El,” says Drake. “Here’s some water and a couple of pain pills. It’s a low dose because we weren’t sure how you would react. Dr. Rice said if we need to raise the dose we can.”

“No, I’m good with the low dose; I don’t like taking anything usually because I’m terrified of becoming like my parents,” I say, trying to sit up.

Drake gently helps me sit up and hands the pills to me, holding out the bottle of water after I pop them in my mouth.

“Where is Reba?” I ask.

“She went into the diner first thing this morning. She is calling in a couple of temp people so she can come back here as soon as she can. She was hoping to make it back before you woke up,” he says.

I nod and grunt in pain at the movement. Okay, so don’t move the head if at all possible. Got it. Shifting around, I try to get myself in a better position. I feel grimy, and I know there is probably blood caked on me since I haven’t showered yet. Embarrassment floods through me as I realize Drake is literally pressed up against me and I probably smell horrible.

“El, please stay here and let me take care of you. I know you’re probably thinking of anything you can do to get away from here, but please just let me take care of you,” Drake pleads with me, nothing but care and concern in his eyes.

“Can I take a shower?” I ask.

“No, I’m sorry. Dr. Rice said you can’t get your face wet right now. But I can run you a bath, if you want,” says Drake. “He will be back in a little bit to check you out again and is going to clean your face up with medical supplies. He’s worried about infections.”

Um, I don’t know about that. What if I can’t undress myself? The last thing I want is Drake helping me undress. Things are already weird enough. Also I didn’t even think about infections, but I guess they really did a number on me this time, so he’s probably right to be worried about that.

“I guess the bath will have to work, but if I can’t undress myself I’m going to wait till Reba gets back,” I say.

Drake looks a little disappointed but nods his head in agreement. Yeah, no way José. We are not going there.

He stands and goes into the bathroom. I hear him start the water and rummage around in the cabinet. After a few minutes, I smell a lavender scent coming from the bathroom and I assume that he has put some stuff in the water, bubbles maybe, or a bath bomb.

Coming back out, he strides over to the bed and then gently helps me to my feet. He wraps his arm around my waist and helps me into the bathroom, sitting me on the edge of the biggest bathtub I have ever seen in my life. Really it’s more like a small bathroom sized hot tub, with jets and steps to get in.

I’m never going to want to get out of this tub.

Drake lifts my feet and goes to pull off my sock. Jerking my foot out of his hand, I ask, “What are you doing? ”

“Don’t worry, I’m just taking off your socks so you don’t have to bend down. I’ve had my fair share of face and head wounds so I know it hurts to bend down when you have them,” he says, reaching for my foot again.

This is so embarrassing. Internally groaning, I let him have the foot even though I don’t really want him to. He has a good point though. It does hurt to bend over when you are hurt like this. All the blood rushing to your head makes it pound so hard that it hurts even worse.

He stands after taking off both of my socks and brings a towel and washcloth over within reach, along with the fluffiest bathrobe I have ever seen. He sets everything down and says, “If you need anything, I’ll be right out here. Just yell.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine. I’ve always done this alone before,” I say.

He growls. Literally growls. There has been a lot of growling in the last twelve hours.

“The fact that this has happened enough that you can take care of yourself when you are so hurt, makes me want to go kill them right now,” he says angrily. “You don’t have to do this alone anymore.”

Turning, he closes the door softly behind him.

Sitting on the side of the tub for a moment, I try to get my bearings. For one thing, I’m not used to someone actively trying to help me like this. Not to mention, I’ve never experienced this level of luxury or comfort. The robe, the massive bathtub, it’s very overwhelming. I don’t need Drake to wait on me hand and foot. Rolling my eyes to myself, I think, quite literally my foot.

I stand slowly and undo my pants, letting them and my panties slide down my legs. Halfway there. Sitting back down on the side of the tub, I reach for the collar of my shirt, stretching the opening enough that I can pull my shirt over my face without touching it. My bra goes next.

Standing again, I slowly walk over to the mirror. Gasping when I see my reflection, I stare at the mess my face is. Tears start forming in my eyes. I look like I got jumped by at least five people. My face is swollen and a mass of blue and purple bruises.

My right side is much worse than the left and I see a gash just under where the socket is clearly broken. Ah, that’s why the doctor is worried about infection. My body isn’t any better. Bruises litter my arms, stomach, and legs, and the bruising on my ribs is killing me.

Slowly turning, I head back to the tub and carefully climb in, the hot water instantly soothing some of the worst spots on my body. Too bad I can’t just spend the next few days in this tub. Letting the water soothe my tired and battered body, I feel myself slowly drift off.