Page 4 of Drowning in the Deep

“What I mean is, I haven’t seen my associate Ragno in a couple of days. You have any idea where he might be?” La Rosa tilted his head back and looked down his nose at me.

I shrugged. “Not sure. You think he’s dead?”

“Should I assume he is?”

All I could do was give him a knowing smile. “Well, keep fucking with me, and you’re gonna find out.”

CHAPTER3

ELISA

Iwas keenly aware of the exact quantity of every single item that could possibly be counted in Daemon’s room. This knowledge had come not from this particular entrapment but from the last time I had been his prisoner. Back then, I’d spent hours in this room, wondering when the hell I’d be let out. I’d had absolutely nothing to do after he’d taken my phone, so all I could do was sleep, eat whatever Janis brought me, and entertain myself the best I could by counting tiles, panels, and various other items around the room.

Now, sitting here, slumped because of the awkward position of my handcuffed wrists, I refused to start that business again. This was different. It had to be. My father hadn’t given me to Daemon this time, so my family would be expecting to hear from me eventually. If my father didn’t, he’d start asking questions, which could stir up trouble with the Petrovs, and while I was fairly certain Daemon didn’t give a fuck what my father thought, he likely wouldn’t want to make him mad just for shits and giggles.

Still, it wasn’t as if everything Daemon did made rational sense to me. At least this time he’d just handcuffed me to his bed, rather than locking me inside of a fucking dog cage. If I’d had to go through that again, I might’ve just tried to find a way to end it. Not only was that disgusting and humiliating, it had let me know that I wasn’t even human to him—at least not at the time.

But then I’d seen my face on his arm, and I had to wonder how much of what Daemon said and did was a show and how much of it was genuine. He had to have at least cared about me at one point in time or he never would have gotten that tattoo.

Now, he refused to believe me when I told him I’d acted in his best interest in taking the file that Ragno was after. It made no sense for me to have it otherwise. If Ragno had come to my apartment looking for the file that I took and I intended to give it to my father, why wouldn’t I have just handed it over and been done with it? Instead, I’d refused to let him have it, and he’d taken me to my father to have my ass handed to me.

I needed to re-explain this to Daemon in a logical way that made him understand why I’d been willing to risk facing my father when he was angry. I had done it for Daemon. He simply didn’t want to hear what I had to say, blinded by his rage.

Sighing, I moved my arm to try to brush my hair back from my face, but I couldn’t lift it high enough for that. What was I going to do if I had to go to the bathroom? Was Daemon prepared to have me urinate all over his bed?

I shook my head and tried to refocus on the question before me. Daemon wanted me to agree to kill my father—or at least help him plan my father’s demise. What would that look like exactly? Was I even capable of doing such a thing for someone who wasn’t related to me? I didn’t think so. I’d always stayed out of that part of the family business.

“But you did help kill Ragno,” I muttered aloud. Hadn’t I had a hand in that? Sort of. I didn’t feel bad about my cousin’s death, but I was scared shitless that my father or one of my brothers was going to find out that I was involved. They would take their time killing me, trying to get information about what had happened out of me.

I liked to think I wouldn’t squeal, that I would never sell Daemon out, but I didn’t have the high threshold for pain like some of the big thugs I’d seen get their teeth knocked out or their fingers sliced off one inch at a time. Could I really endure that and not tell my father what had happened? I didn’t know.

If we tried to kill my father and were unsuccessful, he’d do something similar to me before he really did kill me. And if we did succeed and the old bastard died, what would that make me? The same as every other shitty person in my family, a killer who didn’t know any other way of handling their problems. I didn’t want to stoop to their level. I’d spent my entire life rebelling against that in my own way, trying to make a respectable life for myself.

The door opened, and I started, thinking it was Daemon. When I realized it was Janis coming in with some clean laundry, I relaxed slightly, though part of me was a bit disappointed. I’d been wanting to see Daemon again, even if he was likely going to yell at me and humiliate me for refusing to help him kill my father.

Janis smiled when he saw me, and I grinned back at him. The disappointment melted away at his expression. Janis and I had gotten to know each other pretty well when I was here last, and he’d been kind to me whenever he could. At least now I’d have someone to speak to for at least a couple of minutes, though I knew there was no hope of him freeing me. Daemon was his boss, after all.

“Miss Elisa!” he declared. “It’s so lovely to see you. How have you been?” He paused to set the laundry down and close the door behind him, probably not wanting the entire household to know I was here.

“I’ve been better,” I admitted, showing him my handcuffs as I gave him a little wave. “But I’m alive, and in our business, that’s something to be happy about, I suppose. How are you?”

“Well,” he said, not as a filler word while he thought of a response but as a condition. “I’ve been quite well. I’m so sorry to see you’re tied up.” He chuckled at his own joke.

I didn’t laugh but my smile didn’t fade. “Thanks. I’ve been in worse predicaments—in this very room.”

“Yes, that’s true. Let me finish putting Daemon’s clothes away, and I’ll see if I can make you more comfortable, though I’m afraid I won’t be able to set you free. Wouldn’t want to upset the boss.”

“I understand,” I told him with a nod.

As he went about putting away Daemon’s laundry, we chatted about how things had been in general terms. He noted that many of the new girls had either gotten jobs in other households as maids or were fitting in nicely there at the Petrov place.

“I still think there are too many of them, but at least the house is always clean,” he said. “Daemon doesn’t like for them to touch his things, though, so here I am still managing his laundry.” He chuckled and hung some items in the closet, finishing with his task and then coming to stand at the foot of the bed, clasping his hands together. “Now, let’s see what we can do here.”

I was at a loss, so I waited to see what he had in mind. Janis began moving pillows from the other side of the bed, tucking them under my arms so I’d have something to rest them on and making sure that I was overall comfortable.

“That feels much better,” I told him as I was finally able to relax my wrists a bit. “Thank you.”

“Of course. Are you chilly? Would you like a throw?” he asked me, surveying my position again.

---