Cameron

If I wasn't dead before, I surely am now.

We made eye contact before he laughed deeply before taking a step forward.

A nervous chuckle escaped my lips as I waved a shaky hello, as a diversion, before sprinting in the opposite direction.

I made it to the other side of the apartment and contemplated on what to do. All the rooms were filled with Raffaele's men. All except one.

Mad Maddies.

I practically flew into the bedroom at that thought and hurried to close and lock the door behind me, however, I failed miserably as a foot lodged itself between the door and the door frame.

Oh for fuck's sake.

A hand appeared, his hand, and he used it to push other the door. He muttered some things in Italian but I had no idea of what was being said.

"I demand to know what on Earth is going on!" A voice shouted from the other side of the room. It was Mad Maddie.

Thank the lord she is awake, she is the only one who can save me now.

And with that thought I let go of the door, causing it to open with a bang, and ran behind Mad Maddie.

Beefy Bert walked through before saying stuff in Italian.

I was, least to say, shocked when I heard Mad Maddie say shit back. She had the perfect Italian accent. Unlike Johnathon. His accent is shit but then again, at least he knows the language.

We share similar accents, I have an accent because I am British like him and Mad Maddie. Well, half. My dad was French and my mother British. I have inherited nothing from my father, from my looks to my personality. He was a kind man. I am a total bitch and proud, just like my mother.

"Please move away Zia. The girl is my business."

"No Bruno,"

So his name is Bruno. Good to know.

"You will not lay a single finger on her, capisci? "

"Look what the bitch did to me!" he exclaimed, pointing at his bruised face.

Instead of replying she put a hand on her hip, a glare on her face and pointed towards the door. He complied.

And with that expression in her eyes, even I would fucking dare to contradict.

As soon as he left the room slamming the door behind him I moved away from my hiding spot behind Mad Maddie and stood next to the dresser. She let out a sigh as she sat down on her bed, a frown etched on her wrinkled and worn out face and a distant look in her eyes. She was doing that a lot recently. I cringed. I hated it when people around me were down. I tried to think of a way to bring her back to reality from wherever her mind was currently pondering.

I thanked her for saving me from Beefy Bert. As she laughed lightly at the nickname I mentally fist pumped air and sat on the chair next to the dresser.

"He's Bruno, but I rather you stick to your own nick-name. His reaction shall be beyond hilarious." She said before getting up. She walked out the room and beckoned me to follow.

The whole place was clean now and everyone was settled down in the living room. I was about to walk in but stopped mid-step and contemplated whether it was a good idea or not.

This is illegal, walking into this room will make me a part of it and I cannot get involved with these criminals. I don't know what they'll say or do when I walk in and I am not sure I want to find out. I might have had stood a chance of getting away with my life before, but with Beefy Bert or Bruno, or whatever, I don't stand a chance. He was angry before, and I don't want to see him angrier. Especially when I have no bullets to defend myself, fist alone would not be sufficient enough. Not this time against so many. And I am pretty sure that this is barely even a tenth of the number of men involved in this mafia.

I could not trust any of them. Not Johnathon or even Mad Maddie. Even she is clearly involved in all of this. I had to talk to someone.

But who would I go to about such a situation?

My question had a quick and simple answer.

Ivan.

As I practically felt my eyes fucking sparkle with the thought of my genius plan I looked up towards the living room again, making instant eye-contact with Mad Maddie. She looked at me as I waved a silent goodbye and she sighed before looking down at the carpet. Johnathon noticed her movement as he was sitting next to her and looked towards the corridor seeing me with my hand still raised but before he should say anything or realise that I was about to run, I ran.

When I was out the apartment door, I was confronted with two men. They began to shout and shove. I quickly handled them before proceeding to get out the damn building. Once outside I realised how there was a clear increase in the number of cars parked outside than the usual one or two. There were still people in the cars. I kept my head down and kept my gaze low as I slowly walked away. I felt eyes on me but continued walking as if it was an ordinary day.

Surprisingly I heard some faint talking and heard the start of a car engine. I didn't dare to look behind.

Fuck.

I carried on walking, not taking my usual shortcuts to get to the pub quicker but the long route which was out in the open and in public. Well, as public as it can be in such a remote area as this. After long I was finally there.

About bloody time.

I strolled in seeing the bartender lift an eyebrow at my entrance. I had never come here except on my weekly Sundays. I took the bottle of whatever the hell, off the counter and along with me to my usual booth. When I turned my head back towards the bartender, just during a basic glance of the area, I saw him remove a small mobile from his ear and into the pocket of his blue jeans. He peered around himself as if to make sure no-one was watching him and I quickly tore my gaze away before he could see me.

I slid further into the booth, if possible.

I banged my head against the table. Frustrated and then becoming more frustrated at the small pang of pain that came with the self-inflicted blow. A sudden sound of something falling on the table I had my head rested upon caused me to jump and swear, my imagination getting the best of me, but it was only Ivan. Bloody hell.

"How the hell did you get here so fast? I didn't see you when I came in." I spoke as soon as he apologised for dropped the bottle.

"Ermm, Stephan called me, just lucky I was in the area." He answered and I quickly opened my mouth again.

"I may have had an encounter or two with the people who asked me to get you information about, I have just run from them, and, you need to tell me what the fuck I am supposed to do. Now."

"What? Okay, you can tell me later about what exactly happened but before I can help you, you need to sign the contract."

"I just fucking told you that I have just run from them, you expect me to bring the damn contract along?!" I shouted in disbelief whilst trying to keep my voice low and trying to avoid any unwanted attention.

"I bought a copy, don't worry. Just sign it. I need to go now since they will have probably followed you here. Just act as normal as you can, this conversation and our last ones, have never happened. Okay? And try to get involved with them, naturally and find out as much as possible. We will send details of where to meet up next time for a catch-up. And oh yes, remember, you will now go by the name: Cameron Smith. I am afraid I must cut it short and end our conversation here. Try not to get yourself killed." And with that, he got up, smirked, walked past the counter and into the back.

"Try not to get yourself killed," I muttered, annoyed at his immaturity. My life and sanity were at stake.

Fucking prick.

Whilst I was drowning in my sadness I took the opportunity to have some of that drink.

Wait a minute, who the fuck is Stephan?

My confusion was interrupted by the arrival of another: The one and only Beefy Bert.

I could tell it was him without seeing his face because I recognised the tattoos that littered his arms as he lazily crossed them over each other on the table.

I kept my eyes low and didn't speak a word. I could not be fucking arsed.

I grabbed the bottle and put it to my lips.

Before I could down it or at least take a decent gulp, the bottle was snatched out of my hand.

"What the fuck!"

I looked up to see the culprit staring down at me before taking a large gulp of the bottle himself. As I scowled at him we made eye contact and neither of us was willing to break away or back down. I held my stare as he stared straight back. We did not speak a word, it was like he was trying to figure me out just by looking into my eyes. Shame, he shall find nothing.

My eyes were hard and void of emotions whereas in my mind I was screaming: back the fuck down bastard!

I am quite competitive if you haven't realised.

Our staring contest ending by the sound of someone clearing their throat. It was the bartender.

We both turned to look, well glare, at him as he told us we had to pay for the bottle. He asked for the full price and I argued it was half empty. But he was having none of it, Beefy Bert just leaned back into the booth and watched as I took out money from my back pocket. When the bartender walked away I turned towards Beefy Bert and told him that I won.

"Won what?"

"The staring contest," I replied in a duh tone. He looked at me as if I had grown another head. I rolled my eyes at him before reaching towards the bottle, however much to my dismay, I was stopped when the tips of my fingers touched the bottle when his hand tightened around my wrist.

"I think it's best if you stay sober for now, yes?" There was a hidden danger in his voice and I couldn't bring myself to meet his eyes. He got up and walked out the bar with me trailing behind him. Then, thinking about his eyes, I began to reminisce the moment I had punched one of them. I chuckled to myself but when He turned around I shut myself up and scolded myself to keep it that way.

I was pushed into a car, I wasn't sure what type as I was not paying much attention. When he buckled me and himself up, wait a minute. These are men of the Mafia and they wear their seatbelts? I don't know why but I found it more hilarious than it actually was. Looks like I had too much to drink. Again.

In the moving vehicle there was a man driving that I recognised from the apartment, a woman I had never seen before and in the back was me and Beefy Bert. When I looked towards I realised how close he was to me and that he was getting closer. I tried to move back but I could only go so far due to the seatbelt. But it was not too back because, neither could he. It was then that I saw the black bag in his hands. He opened it up and told me to bend my head towards him to make it easier.

"Fuck no," I said, vigorously shaking my head. I hated being in the dark, especially if I was conscious during it. It reminds me of...

"Fine, just close your eyes." I was surprised he had listened to me. It was probably because of the way I had reacted that had gotten him to give in.

Instead of fully closing my eyes I just looked down at the floor of the car. I fiddled with my fingers, not looking up or out the windows even once to see where we were.

I didn't need to.

I just counted the time it took for us to make a turn and which way we were going. We have been going in the same direction for at least ten minutes which tells me we are on the motorway.

I tried to memorise as much as possible but we had been travelling for over four hours and I had given it up after one.

I grew weary and tired during the journey, I closed my eyes, feeling the stare of another pair.

I fell asleep not long after. Yet my sleep was not as dreamless as I hoped.