My Masters' Nightmare Season 1, Episode 5 Escape by Marita A. Hansen

then had tried to undress me, ripping my blouse in
his excitement. I’d panicked and pushed him away, making him fall
onto his bed. He’d started crying, saying that he knew I’d turn him
down, that he wasn’t good enough for me, that he was tainted and
dirty. Then it had all spilled out, Jagger confessing what the
priest had done to him. I’d stared at him in horror, not wanting to
believe any of it. He’d got off the bed and walked towards me,
holding his arms out, wanting me to comfort him, but instead I’d
ran to his cousin, needing Frano to tell me that Jagger was lying.
But when Frano had opened the door, I’d burst into tears, unable to
say a word, because deep down I had known that Jagger was telling
the truth, my mind unable to handle it. Before I knew it, I was
sobbing on Frano’s shoulder, then kissing him in his bed. My
boyfriend had just told me he’d been raped and sexually abused for
years, yet I’d made love to his cousin straight afterwards. I’d
hurt Jagger like everyone else had, had walked out on him when he’d
needed me the most.
    The realization hit me
hard , the
missing pieces of my memory finally clicking into place.
    I was Sophia Salvi
    Jagger’s
girlfriend
    And Frano’s
lover
     

4
    Frano
    I turned into the Landi
driveway, and drove up the steep incline. The Landi famiglia lived on a hill
overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. Their three-story house and its
ten-foot wall were constructed out of imported white rock, an
impenetrable fortress, perfect for a famiglia of gunrunners and mercenaries.
    I parked next to a row of armored
four-wheeled drives. The front was a hive of activity with men
everywhere. Many were carrying guns while some were loading them,
getting ready to storm the House of Whores.
    I patted Thierry’s leg. “Time to get
out.”
    T he boy remained still. He was staring out
the window with eyes so round, his fear palpable.
    “ They won’t
hurt you, bambino ,” I said. “They will protect you with their
lives.”
    He turned to me. Even after all
he’d experienced, his eyes were still brimming with innocence, the
boy such a sweet kid. It hurt me deeply to hear about what my
brother had done to him. I knew I should’ve killed Alberto for it,
but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it—he was my brother, my
closest relative, someone I had grown up with. How could I kill
him? But what he’d done was truly evil, something even I couldn’t
comprehend. Because no matter what Alberto had said, Thierry was a child, someone
who needed to be protected, not preyed upon.
    Pushing my thoughts down, I got
out of the car and went around to open Thierry’s door, the boy
obviously too scared to get out. He was a timid little thing,
effeminate too. It was inherent in everything he did: the way he
talked and walked or even how his hand fluttered about when he was
excited, and most definitely in the squeals he made while playing
football. He wasn’t very good at sport, but still liked to kick the
ball around with me, his eagerness making up for his lack of
skill.
    I held out a hand for him to
take. He took a hold of it, allowing me to pull him out. He blushed
furiously, making me grin. He really was a peculiar kid.
    Someone called out my name. I
let go of Thierry’s hand, and turned around to find Pedro Landi
heading for me. Don Landi was a big man, someone who enjoyed his
food and wine far too much, and his women even more, my friend
preferring hedonism over politics.
    “ Frano!”
Pedro said, giving me a crushing hug.
    I hugged him back, then pulled
away after some pretty hard, albeit friendly backslaps from the big
man. I placed my hand on Thierry’s shoulder. “I don’t believe
you’ve met Jagger’s younger brother, Thierry.”
    Pedro’s smile widened, then
before I knew what was happening, he was hugging Thierry, probably
knocking the wind out of the poor kid. After a few seconds, he let
go. “What a beautiful ragazzo you are.” He took a hold of Thierry’s cheeks