Read My Masters' Nightmare Season 1, Episode 12 "Confrontation" for Free Online Page B

several single beds, a couple of cabinets, even a fridge
... and another wardrobe. I opened it, this time running my hand over the back
wall, since it faced the yard. My fingers brushed a metal circle similar to the
one in the other wardrobe. I pressed it, causing the wall to open outwards. I
stepped through the opening, entering a passage comprised of bushes, the night
sky now the ceiling. I raced through it, stopping at its edge to check for
Landi soldiers. An empty vineyard stretched out before me, the sweet smell of
grapes filling my nose. Up above, the half moon threw a faint glow over the dark
landscape, while a soft breeze brushed my face.
    Not seeing any soldiers, I took
off, running through the vineyard, vaguely remembering doing it once before.
The memory grew stronger with every step, making me stop in my tracks. I
glanced back at the house, the two story villa grand. My eyes locked on the
backyard. An image of a young Jagger popped into my head. He’d been playing
with a soccer ball while waiting for me to arrive for his seventeenth birthday.
He’d been so skinny back then, not the slim, muscular man he was now. Still,
that same pervasive sadness had surrounded him, something I’d chosen to ignore.
I knew I’d let him down, like everyone else in his life. No one had truly cared
enough to have noticed the signs of his abuse, because it had all been there:
his sullen outlook on life, the way his beautiful eyes misted over constantly,
his need to be away from home, his fear of large men ... and more. And now I
was finally going to do something about it—I owed him that much.
    A shadow rounded the building,
probably a Landi soldier. I ducked down and started running again, not stopping
until I was on the other side of the vineyard, too far away for him to see me.
Following Camila’s instructions, I headed east, hoping to reach my destination
in under an hour. I was good with directions and could find my way out of
anywhere, the skill having been hammered into me during my FBI training.
    The thought of the FBI—in
particular my boss, made me grimace. I was still angry with Dan for not being upfront
about Honey ... and everything else.He’d been like a father to
me, someone I thought I could trust wholeheartedly. It was ironic that I now
trusted a mob boss more than him. I wondered how much of a role he played in
suppressing my memories. Did he okay the drugs they’d used on me? Or did the
order come from a higher authority? And why the hell would they want to
suppress my memories in the first place? None of it made sense, especially
since I’d only come from a low level mafia family, one with no real power. Why
was I so important that they had to fuck with my head? And even if I did know
the ins and outs of the mafia world, which I hadn’t back then, they’d wiped my
memory. Again, it didn’t make sense. None of it did. Or maybe they’d molded me into
a vengeful killing machine, then unleashed me upon Frano, hoping I’d destroy
him. The thought enraged me, because I almost had. The memory of smashing
Frano’s head against the cell floor made me shiver with fear. I could’ve killed
him. I grimaced, mentally adding more names to my revenge list. After I threw
out the Donatelli trash, I was setting my sights on the FBI.
    I emerged onto another field,
seeing the forest surrounding the lake. I jogged around it, the cold air
pleasant, the run not too taxing. I loved to run, and had missed it while being
locked up in the D’Angelo house. The memory of the past few weeks came to mind,
and of everything I’d been through. Even though it had been horrifying at times,
I would’ve lived through it all again if it meant I could keep Frano.
    I continued following Camila’s
instructions, wishing I could turn around and go back to Frano. I hated leaving
him alone with that trumped-up bitch. He was quite capable of putting Camila in
her place, but just the thought of that sleazy woman touching and flirting with
him