His Kitten

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6. Some Answers


I groaned. My head hurt.

“Ahh we’re waking up.”

I opened my eyes, and squinted.

I was back in the bedroom, laying on the bed. A young man, with blonde hair was sitting on the edge of the bed. He was clearly American from his accent.

“Who are you?” I groaned.

He smiled, “my name is Andrew, I’m a doctor.”

I looked towards the foot of the bed, and Vincent was standing there with his arms folded.

“My head hurts,” I complained.

Andrew nodded, “that tends to happen when you hit your head hard.”

“He was going to shoot me!” I whispered.

Andrew glanced at Vincent, who shook his head and rolled his eyes.

Then he leaned towards me.

“If Vincent wanted to shoot you, he would have done,” he smirked.

You narrowed your eyes.

“He kidnapped me!” you whispered. Slightly horrified that another American was sitting there, knowing exactly who Vincent was and what he had done.

Andrew chuckled, “I don’t doubt it.”

He stood up and walked over to where Vincent was standing.

“She may have a slight concussion. She’ll have a headache for a while. Make sure she rests and drinks plenty of fluids, she’s a little dehydrated.”

I watched as he handed Vincent a small bottle of tablets.

“Painkillers, if she needs them.”

Andrew glanced at me and smiled.

“Try and rest Miss Ryan, I’ll come back in a couple of days to see how you are.”

Then he spoke to Vincent in Italian.

“Le pillole la renderanno assonnata. Lo guarderei. Ti tradirà alla prima occasione.” [The pills will make her sleepy. I’d watch it. She will betray you at the first opportunity]

Vincent chuckled, “Non preoccuparti amico mio, non ne avrà l’opportunità.” [Don’t worry my friend, she won’t have the opportunity]

I sighed, and closed my eyes. I heard the bedroom door close. I knew he was still in the room. Vincent that is.

How was I supposed to know he wouldn’t shoot me? After all, this was nothing to do with me. It was to do with my dad, and Uncle Daniel. If he hated them that much, why would he keep me alive.

What really hurt was that a fellow American didn’t think it was wrong, that I had been snatched from my home and family.

I felt the bed dip, so I turned my head away.

I felt his hand rest on my thigh. I flinched, but he ignored it, as his thumb gently rubbed up and down on my skin.

I turned my head to look at him, tears pooling in my eyes.

“You said you wouldn’t hurt me?” I whispered, my voice cracking.

His thumb grazed my cheek, wiping away an errant tear.

“I didn’t...you fell,” he stated.

I frowned, “you...you pointed a gun at me, at my head. I thought you were going to shoot me,” my voice becoming more high pitched.

“But I didn’t, did I?” he replied, his voice remaining perfectly calm. Gentle even.

I closed my eyes, and sighed.

If I was expecting an apology I would be sorely disappointed.

My eyes opened when I heard a knock at the door.

“Come,” He replied sharply.

When the door opened, a young girl stood there dressed similarly to the girls in the kitchen. She carried a tray which she placed on a small table.

She bowed and left the room.

“Why does everyone bow to you?” I asked, my brow furrowing.

He smirked.

“It’s a sign of respect, one which you seem to struggle with… Now sit up, and you need to eat something.”

I groaned, “can’t I have one of those,” I pointed at the bottle of tablets in his hand, as I struggled to sit.

The slight movement caused my head to throb.

“Once you’ve eaten something, I’ll give you one of these.”

He shook the bottle, to make a point.

I brought my hands to my head.

“You’ll keep me in pain, unless I do what you want.”

Vincent chuckled.

“No that will only happen if I have to punish you, but the bottle clearly states they should be taken with food.”

I felt my face flush. Slightly embarrassed and worried I might have put an idea into his head.

“Open,” He demanded.

I looked up, and he held a spoon in his hand. It looked like a spoonful of eggs.

“I can feed myself,” I objected.

He rolled his eyes, “you didn’t do a very good job on that score this morning, gitanna!”

I sighed and opened my mouth. I knew he wouldn’t relent, and I really needed that pain killer.

He proceeded to feed me the rest of the scrambled egg. It was surprisingly good, but then anything would be after not having eaten for three days.

Vincent opened the bottle of pills, then grabbed my hand. He tapped the bottle until one pill fell out on the palm of my hand. Then he passed me a glass of water.

I popped the pill in my mouth and took a gulp of water.

Vincent chuckled, “you’re not worried about me poisoning you then?”

I stared at him, horror on my face. Would he?

He laughed again, “don’t worry gitanna, I wouldn’t waste good food on you if I was going to kill you.”

He took the glass from my hand.

“Now lay down.”

I didn’t argue. The pain in my head was already beginning to fade, but I felt a bit dizzy.

I frowned, “why do you hate them so much? My dad, and Uncle Daniel?”

His face darkened. I’d said the wrong thing again. Last time he’d pointed a gun at me.

“You might as well drop the Uncle. We both know he’s not your real Uncle. As for your father...well he has a loose tongue, which needs to be silenced.”

I gasped, as my heart hammered loudly in my chest. I realised now, the FBI, my kidnap, him. They were all related.

“He worked for you didn’t he? That’s why he was arrested, that’s why you kidnapped me. To make sure he doesn’t talk?”

Vincent stood up.

“You need to rest,” he stated, as he walked away from the bed.

I pushed myself up, so that I was sitting.

“What will you do, if he talks? Are you going to kill me?” I asked, my voice shaking.

Vincent turned around and walked towards the bed.

I scuttled back. I swallowed back the bile that was threatening to rise in my throat.

He sat on the edge of the bed, his hand gently touched my face.

“No gitanna. I won’t kill you. Its enough that your father thinks I will. Besides,” he lifted my hand to his lips, and kissed it gently.

“I kind of like having you around,” he purred.

I felt my cheeks heat up.

“Now lay down, and rest.” He commanded.

I quickly lay back down. This time he didn’t get up, he just sat there gazing at me.

I had so many questions. What was my dad doing working for the mafia? How was Uncle Daniel...I mean Daniel involved? Surely people would be looking for me? Wouldn’t my dad tell them I had been taken?

Vincent put his hand on my head, and stroked my forehead with his thumb.

I closed my eyes. I was feeling sleepy anyway, but his gently hands always made me feel calm. Good even. Why was that?

Then I heard him speak. I didn’t understand what he said, but whenever he spoke like that, I would get a knot in my stomach and my face would heat up.

“Sei un gattino così innocente. Dormi bene.” [You are such an innocent kitten. Sleep well]

Then felt his breath fanning my face, as his lips brushed mine.

I opened my eyes, and touched my fingers to my lips.

Vincent looked at me and smiled.

“Don’t look so surprised, gattina, those lips have been begging to be kissed.”

I stared at him, but didn’t respond. I licked my lips.

Vincent chuckled, “did I steal your first kiss, piccolo?

I nodded. Despite being chased by the boys at school, I never really wanted anything to do with them. Outside of school, I never met any boys. I was always with my dad.

Vincent licked his lips and smiled.

“Close your eyes now, and rest.”

I did, hoping he would kiss me again, but he didn’t. So I drifted off to sleep, a little disappointed.

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