“They were chasing me.”
“I was told, but… they are to help keep you safe.”
Madly, she suddenly screamed, “They were chasing me!”
I lifted my free hand. “Alright. They will stop. I will talk to them.”
“Make them go away!”
“Alright. Try to calm yourself.” I looked over my shoulder. “Maybe if you step outside?”
The men backed away and into the darkness of the night.
Strands of Isabella’s hair floated in front of her face as she exhaled heavily.
“Now, can you tell me why you ran?”
As if not mentally stable, her eyes widened, and she began to pace. “I must find her. I gave her a knife. A knife, Angel. I told her to stab one if he got too close.”
Not sure if she was talking present or past, I quickly asked, “Isabella, who did you give a knife to?”
Her hand let go of her nightgown so her arms could hold her chest, almost as if cradling a baby. “Vita Mia.”
My heart seized, hearing her refer to the baby as ‘my life’ because I instantly knew who she was speaking of.
Tears dripped from her trembling chin as she touched the imaginary baby’s face. “Scarlett.”
Oh no.
Pitifully, as if realizing she could no longer hold her child, her arms caved to her chest, and she groaned in a pain I hoped to never feel as her head slowly fell back so she could sob to the ceiling of the cave. “She may be dead.” Her body swayed as if trying to find some sort of comfort through her unimaginable agony. “Oh, Angel. I gave her a knife. I gave her a knife.” Her sway continued, leading her into a circle, her bare feet shuffling the dirt and stones. “I gave her a knife. I gave her a knife…”
I could barely breathe as I imagined a little girl, one who looked just like beautiful Isabella, alone in the dark somewhere, attempting to defend herself from seven men… with one weapon: a knife.
And her mother felt to be the blame. This woman was absolutely tortured over it. Tears drenched her skin and nightgown as she aimlessly kept making circles.
Isabella didn’t fight me as I scooped up her terribly thin form. In fact, she curled into my chest, just as she had my father the very first day I ever saw her. I could feel more tears now drip to my own skin as she cried, “I gave her a knife…”
Suits followed the Angel of the Night as he carried Isabella Giordano back home.
“Why is this knife a bad thing?” asked my father, who was now in Australia.
Sitting in a chair across from Sal and his mother on the couch, I rubbed my stressed forehead while speaking into the phone. “She fears the men would retaliate and kill Scarlett. In fact, at the time, knowing Isabella would soon be sold, no longer able to distract the men, she had hoped for this outcome.” After a miserable pause, due to everyone worrying, I added, “Isabella felt it was better than the… alternative.”
“Say no more,” sadly replied Mr. Rossi. “We fully understand.”
Mrs. Rossi’s eyes slid shut.
Watching a few tears fall from her, I told the men, “I will talk with her more tomorrow—today.” It was now early in the morning, and I was exhausted.
Once off the phone, I stared at Mrs. Rossi. Solemnly, I asked, “Can you read more than just Sal and I?”
Her light brown eyes opened and delivered a dead stare.
My voice cracked, “The girl is not dead, is she?”
Stoically, Mrs. Rossi stood, then faced her bedroom. As she walked away, she quietly answered, “No.” Behind her, her bedroom door closed.
“A little girl against seven men?” Sal leaned his upper body forward to grip his now longer light brown hair. “May God help us find her.”
Sal and I were physically growing into young men, but mentally being shoved into full-out manhood. Responsibilities were not the only complications becoming more demanding. Our body’s needs were becoming challenging, too. It was a very confusing time. Sweet kisses from girls and late-night Soldier tugs into socks were no longer all it took to quench a thirst, or enough to distract our overworked and overthinking brains. Noemi knew this and welcomed us to run to her body to escape.
Sal and I were scared. Now, both almost seventeen, a year had passed with no luck of finding a young girl we were sure was daily being violently abused. The more we learned about the human trafficking trade, the more we understood the world could be a devastatingly cruel place for some. Talks with Isabella only added to our growing disgust for those who claimed to be human, yet were the Devil’s spawn.
Our fathers had yet to return and sounded frustrated and depleted over the phone. Isabella was aging daily, desperate to learn her daughter, if still alive, had been rescued. Her tears were so dreadful because she had no answers. She didn’t know whether to mourn a loss or pray for Scarlett to be returned.
All of it had Sal and me searching for God’s special water, that Mrs. Rossi swore would save us. Luckily, because of Noemi, we had a direct natural source.
Once gentle touches matured for all three of us. I moved our rendezvous to the little cave in which Isabella had taken shelter. I didn’t want Noemi to ever be discovered with two young men. It would cripple her reputation and ruin all future marriage prospects.
She was in the cave waiting for us when Sal and I rushed in. Seeing us already removing our shirts, she rose to her knees and opened her arms. Still untangling our button-down shirts from our hands, we both dropped to our knees in front of her, each kissing a side of her neck. Noemi was smaller than us, so Sal’s and my growing shoulders fought for space as we wrapped her up in our arms, needing her impossibly close.
Sal and I never got annoyed with each other, though. We, although not interested in each other sexually, both were fond of the closeness of our bodies when sharing Noemi. It almost added to the comfort she was offering.
I pulled the strap of her dress down her shoulder so I could lick the skin that tasted so sweet to me. Sal’s hand was already drifting up her dress to cup her breast that had slightly grown.
Easily falling into our routine, the three of us lay on our sides as my mouth found Noemi’s, her tongue hungrily seeking mine. Delving into her glorious mouth, I jerked to a stop when Sal growled, “What is this?” He was behind her, her dress hiked over naked hips so he could sink fingers inside her.
Noemi giggled. “A new distraction.”
Sal smirked. “It has my full attention.” No longer appearing as stressed as when we entered the cave, he gently pushed her to my chest, raising her dress up further to expose her ass. “Angelo, you have to see this.”
Just wanting to keep kissing her, I lazily peeked over her roundness to see an object between her cheeks. “What the—” I quickly moved out of the way to lay her on her stomach, causing her to giggle again.
Sal and I scrambled to get by her legs and get a better view of this pink plastic thing in the shape of a flat circle. She wiggled her butt. “Do you not like it?”
“I love it! Sal cheered. “What is it?”
She nervously nibbled on her lips. “Getting myself ready for you.”
“Noemi, explain.”
Noemi got up on her hands and knees so we could get a full view. “It is an insert- a ‘plug’ to help stretch my anus.” Sal grabbed his chest, comically falling to his side, slamming to the dirt. Noemi peered past her side. “I want you there someday soon.” He pointed to his chest. She winked. “Only if you want to.”