***Sorry for the delay darlings. I've had a crisis in my love life and it has given me a killer case of writer's block. My "Gianni" and I have been having issues...sweet. Hope i'm not letting you down with this one. It's a longer chapter. Not so much "sexy time" and a little bit of violence. Eh, enjoy I hope.***
The hotel clerk stared at her as she slapped the euro notes down on the counter. "I need a room."
His mouth opened and closed. He continued to stare, taking in her disheveled appearance. "I need identification."
Natasha rolled her eyes and fished a 100-euro note from her pocket and thrust it at him. "No ID, just a room."
He looked around nervously before slipping the bill into his shirt pocket. He handed her a key. His eyes roved over her face, taking in the tearstains, and his voice softened. "Is there anything else you need, Signorina?"
"Yeah." She handed him her car keys. "Get my car." She handed him another hundred euro note.
She'd driven overnight. She was too exhausted for politeness.
She climbed the winding staircase to her room and set her shopping bags inside the door. It was a moderate sized room. Nowhere near as large as her previous accommodations but she could care less.
She looked down at herself and groaned. She still wore Gianni's shirt. It was stained with his blood. She unbuttoned it with trembling fingers and tossed it into the trashcan. She slipped out of her skirt and put that in the bin too. Her underwear and bra joined the pile.
She went to the bathroom and stepped into the shower and scoured herself until the steam became so thick it made it hard to breath. She dried herself and slipped into a pair of white cotton underwear, then walked to the balcony. She threw open the doors and looked out over the coastline. Waves crashed against the beach far beneath her window. Winding stairway wound it's its way down the sheer cliff wall. The lights of Sorrento glimmered and across the water she could see Naples. She looked up at the stars and hugged herself. Dad, you were right. I don't know what I've gotten myself into.
She closed the balcony doors behind her before turning out the lights and sliding between the covers. She gazed up at the ceiling, tracing one spindly crack that marred the eggshell white surface. She felt like crying but could not. She had cried too much recently. Instead, her insides were twisting themselves in knots, pressing against her chest, hindering her breath. It was long before exhaustion claimed her and she fell into a troubled sleep. ***
It took her a moment to realize where she was when she first opened her eyes. The knowledge hit her hard and all she wanted to do was retreat to sleep. But no matter how she tried she could not close her eyes. Each time she tried she saw Gianni bloodied and pale in her mind's eye.
With a frustrated groan she slid out of bed. After taking a hot shower she examined the contents of the shopping bags; a new suitcase, a few days worth of clothes, accessories, and a few new pairs of shoes. She'd paid cash. No one could follow her credit card trail.
She pulled on a tight-fitting white t-shirt, distressed denim jeans, and her puma tennis shoes. She grabbed her purse and sunglasses and headed out the door.
It was midday and warm as Natasha walked down slope towards the center of town. She kept her head down as she walked. Two men on scooters honked at her and whistled as they drove by.
Natasha walked along the street looking in shop windows not really seeing anything. She sat down in the town square at a sidewalk café. She sat her head in her hands.
"Signorina?"
"Padron?" She looked up to see a waiter.
He smiled at her, his eyes assessing her. "May I get you something?"
"Oh," She looked down at the menu and ordered smoked salmon. She ate and left a generous tip. She went in and out of stores buying more clothes and necessities. She flagged down a taxi and the driver helped her load her things into the trunk.
The bellhop took her bags to her room and she flopped onto the bed fully clothed. The sun was setting as she fell asleep.
A dark shadow fell over her as she slept. A black-gloved hand trailed over her collar bone and down to trace the lacy edge of her bra over the generous swell of her breast.
Natasha's eyes slid open. A dark figure stood over her. She shot up and opened her mouth a scream but a hand covered her lips muffling her screams. He pushed her back down on the bed, applying pressure to her abdomen.
She squirmed but he was too strong.
He leaned over her and she saw his face in the moonlight. Gianni.
She stopped struggling and stared up at him.
"Please, bella. Don't scream." He said quietly. "I only want to talk. I promise I won't harm you. Do you understand?"
She nodded fiercely. Her mouth was dry with fear.
"You won't cry out?"
She shook her head.
He took his hand away, a mere inch at first, then all together. She breathed hard as if she had just sprinted a mile. She screamed as loud as she could, the sound echoing off the walls of the small hotel room.
Gianni clamped his hand over her mouth. He sighed. "Natasha...please."
Her fear was turning to anger. She growled against his hand.
"Please listen to me."
She roughly pushed his hand away taking him off guard. "Listen to you?" she hissed. "Why the hell should I listen to anything you have to say?"
The stared at each other a moment.
His voice was low. "Because I'll tell you the truth."
Her brows drew together and she opened her mouth to speak but thought better of it and fell silent.
