Page 38 of Pocketful of You

"I'm nervous, dammit! You minus Romi makes for an unpredictable –"

"If you don’t start talking, you're gonna meet an unpredictable end, fucker."

"Ah hell, Sketch, don’t put me in this position –"

"Quinton!"

"Alright! Fine. I'll tell you!" Whimpering, he flailed the pool cue wildly. "Hey, Lucky, you don’t happen to have any more of those needles you stuck him with? Or a straitjacket?"

"Goddammit, Presley, just tell me already!"

"Then hold on tight, buddy. Because I'm about to blow your world – and not in the fun way."

16

Romi

Several days passed before Raffaele sent one of his henchmen to summon me from my room.

Cold to the bone, I allowed his guard to lead me back to the room of horror without a fight.

There was no point in defying him.

I didn’t stand a chance against these monsters.

I was underprepared and unprotected.

"Good evening, Ramona," he acknowledged from behind the huge desk when I stepped inside. "Have a seat."

Weary to the bone, I hobbled over to the desk and took the chair opposite his, just about ready to get whatever came next over with.

"What is the matter with your leg?" he asked, eyeing me with curiosity. "You walk with a limp."

"Last month, I jumped out of my treehouse and tried to kill myself."

His brows pinched together. "Why would you do that?"

I stared blankly. "Because I wanted to die."

My honesty must have taken him aback because he leaned back in his chair and stroked his jaw, expression thoughtful. "And now?"

Unsure of what to he wanted to hear, I simply shrugged.

"What do you want now, Ramona?"

"Sketch."

"Sketch?" He arched a dark brow. "You want to draw?"

"No."

"Then what –"

"Boyfriend."

"Ah." A smile ghosted his lips. "I see."

I doubted it.I leaned back in my seat, feeling lifeless and numb. "He might be dead by now." It was the first time that I allowed myself to think the words, let alone say them out loud.

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