The Mafia Leaders Girl

Chapter 43- Life Or Death

Here is another song I felt would go great so you can either use this song or the one above.

~Recap~

"You should be asleep, sweet cheeks."

I jump at the unexpected voice and look towards the door to find the star of my recent and past nightmares.

I sigh tiredly and try to mask my fear as I ask with hatred and venom, "What do you want, Ryker?"

Jules~

"What do you want, Ryker?" I sigh.

He says nothing, but steps into the room, a look of mischief on his face. A hint of sociopathic glint runs through his eyes before it's masked, but I don't doubt there's more where that came from.

"My, how much you've grown, sweet cheeks," he mutters, his eyes traveling from the tip of my shoes to the top of my head.

He stops right in front of me. He doesn't stand close enough where I can smell his foul stench, but close enough to the point where I feel as if my personal bubble has been violated.

This close to him, I can tell he's aged since I've last seen him- and not in a good way either. His scratchy beard is untamed and bothers me. His eyes droop with the help of his under eye bags, making him look like that little freak from Lord of the Rings who kept saying "My Precious!".

He looks like he's also gained some weight because his stomach nearly falls over the waistband of his khakis. And his teeth! They were nearly yellow, but now they just look rotten.

Wow. I guess he really just...let himself go. I could really feel sad for the man...but I don't want to.

"I know what you're thinking," he says, his voice coming out more hoarse- most likely from smoking. "You're thinking, 'I can't believe he found me!". Well believe it! I have connections and no matter where you go, I'll find you." He bends down to run a stray finger against my leg. "I'll always find you, sweet cheeks."

I tried to shake his hand off, but regret it as soon as the cuffs on my leg dug into me more painfully.

"Actually, I was thinking about how fucking ugly you've become," I grit out.

He scowls at me, that hint of the sociopath I've seen earlier coming to light. He reaches behind him and pulls out what looks like a medium sized kitchen knife.

"Just like your mother," he whispers harshly. "Yoy both had a mouth on you." He runs the tip of the knife along my thigh, his eyes following its every movement. "But don't worry. I taught your mother a lesson and I'll teach you one too."

My teeth clenches in anger and my eyes narrow, but I stay quiet. As my father taught me, patience is a virtue in cases like this.

Ryker moves the tip of the knife from my thigh to my jaw, caressing my face. I glance behind him to see Stacy still asleep. I didn't want her watching this.

"You know," Ryker says, snapping my attention back to him, his eyes still on the knife against my skin. "Your mother was a difficult bitch. She wouldn't believe anything I'd tell her. I had to create fake blood tests just to make her actually think you weren't hers."

I stared at him in shock.

So it was all true? The dream I had was real? Ryker really did make my mom believe I wasn't her? Everything I thought about my mother....it wasn't her fault?