From Mafia Doll To Montana Queen

via

wasn't merely a temperature

n dress, gnawing at my b

t to my chest, listening to the madden

ys. Time had ceased to

the door g

in, violent

e held a riding crop in his hand, the le

p," he c

st, but I stood. I wouldn't give him

d, his voice devoid of any warmth, an

croaked. My throat

cracked thro

A sharp, stinging fir

l the copper taste of blood fil

it,"

N

ruck

it was m

the rough stone wall ha

grate near the ceiling, I

adowed and cruel. She was holding a phone, the screen glo

e whispered, her voice dripp

preparing to strike again, blind

n. The sun. Him laughi

d in my gut like

trembling with defiance. "Beat

me again

y blow, the love I held for him evaporated. It was be

ocking eyes with him, "we are n

w a flicker of doubt in his eyes-a ghost of the

ft, slamming and

the stone rough agai

r-the door opened agai

s my

looked old

e and draped his heavy coat over my

is pocket. My sketchbook. The o

spered, his voice thick with

ed them

s other pocket and pulle

d t

ved for Marcus out of wood when I was twelve.

oice breaking. "He didn't even look at what

d me the

illusion

aid, his hands trembling with suppressed rage. "He told me

my eyes dry. "I'm not a

e tear leaked from his eye

gent. "The other Capos. They say Marcus is going too far. But

y shoulders,

will not di

small key fr

uard changes. I've paid off the

ad

es. Offshore accounts he doesn't

efore I c

alone

rms. They throbbed, a rhythmi

ncil I had hidden in my poc

, the black dust coatin

chanted in my head.

My father was opening the door, but I

digging into my palm until I felt

ant I w

owed. *I will live