Maid for the Mafia by Jaylee

Columbian Penis

**ROMANY**

I followed Damien and Alex into the meeting room, despite that I didn't want to. The moment I stepped inside I felt nauseous. My eyes went straight for the right and left sides of the room. To the couches that had been shrouded in darkness last night. Today the dim overhead lighting was turned on and the seats were empty. Still, it was like I could hear the groans of invisible men and see their shadows moving along the cushions. Although I knew there wasn't anyone physically there... I couldn't shake the feeling of them watching me.

Ripping my eyes away, I noted Alex and Mickey arguing in one corner and Damien and Tiny setting up a tarp to the right of the table.

That's when I saw her. *Stella.* She was seated in the wheelchair that Father Mateas had been tied to a couple of weeks ago. She wasn't tied up like he was, but she certainly didn't look comfortable sitting there. *What the fuck are they planning to do with her? Why is she in that thing?*

I've seen it a couple times now and it always comes out of this room bloody. *They wouldn't... right? She's a woman.* There are four men in this room and if any one of them thinks that I'm going to sit here and watch them *torture* her, I'll leave today. And I won't go alone either, I roll that cunt Stella out with me just to make a point. I won't take her any farther than the driveway, but I won't leave her for them to butcher either.

Facing forward, my eyes caught on the armchair directly across the table - Alex's seat. The seat he was in last night when I... when he... ugh!

Again, I shook myself, clamping my eyes shut to chase the memory of that horrible thirst away, but it just wasn't going. With a curse on my lips and a glare in Alex's direction, I stomped over to the water dispenser next to the cabinet and grabbed a glass from the shelf, filling it to the brim.*Fucking bastards!* As I drank it down it occurred to me, in twenty-three years I'd never even smoked a joint. Not a *cigarette*, not a bowl! I drank, but that was it. I hardly even did that! They *destroyed* that for me. They fucked off God knows how many of my brain cells by doping me up with that liquid fire! It was my sobriety, *my* life drug free and they took* it from me! But that's not all they took! *Fuck!*

So he does remember what I look like. Nice.* For a moment, I can't decipher the expression on his face. He almost looks stunned, or... ashamed. Mickey is still talking to

underwater and nobody's breathing. I notice Stella is now positioned over the center of the tarp, illuminated in a circle of white light coming from the panel in the ceiling. The rest of them are seated around the table staring at her. Alex in his seat, Damien directly across, then Mickey and Tiny on one side. There's an empty chair between Tiny and Damien at the end of the table and I wonder if it's supposed to be for me. Alex lights a cigar while Mickey lights a cigarette and I suddenly

want to get this over with.* The *minute* we finished in this

then slamming my glass of water on the table. Then again after I'd sat down, scooting the seat back and forth a few times to try and fuck up Alex's wooden floor. Each time I succeeded in honking the wood,

on Alex... yell

smoking it?" I snapped,

he finished his cigarette then laughing again

just in case he missed it, because he

the table from everyone, but Alex. I even thought I saw Stella crack a tiny little

then spun it like a top, before stopping it

to name each and every instance that you went behind my back. You will