Don't Challenge Me

Leonardo rose, staring at Frank and pointing a finger at him.

"What century do you live in, you piece of crap? I won't submit to this, you understand? I'll figure something out and pay you, but not like this."

Frank felt anger flooding inside him and stood up instantly. He leaped over the small table and went towards Leonardo, wrapping his large hand around his neck and violently throwing him onto the couch, his left leg between Leonardo's legs. He stared fixedly at him, fury in his eyes evidently. No one had ever spoken to Frank this way. It was unacceptable to him.

"Who do you think you are? A worthless nobody. Don't you dare speak to me like that! You will do as I say, or I'll kill that trash you called father."

Leonardo heard those words, with his hands attempting to remove Frank's hand from his neck in futile. Tears streamed down his face, and with a surge of courage, he lifted his leg forcefully, hitting Frank's groin. Startled, Frank released him and put his hands on his belly.

"You son of a b*tch."

Leonardo ran away, and Frank, still recovering, watched him go, knowing he wouldn't get far. He took a deep breath, still in pain, and followed Leonardo, who was already reaching the front door. But as Leonardo exited, he came face to face with Frank's security guards, blocking his path.

"Move, let me through." — He pleaded while almost screaming.

"Where do you think you're going, Mr. Guerrero? You'll pay dearly for what you've done."

Leonardo turned around, looking at Frank who was approaching.

"Take him away."

The guards grabbed Leonardo and dragged him back into the house. They led him through the house until they reached a dark room, where they threw him inside. He fell to the ground but got up immediately, heading towards the door which was swiftly closed, leaving him trapped there. He tried to look around, but the place was terribly dark, with a strong stench of decay penetrating his nostrils. He reached out his hands, felt the wall, and once he found a light switch, he turned it on. Looking around, he found himself in a room with only an old, dirty mattress in one corner and a chamber pot in the other. There was no window.

He covered his face with his hands, feeling despair consuming him. Just a few days ago, everything was going well. His life seemed to be moving forward, yet now he found himself imprisoned there. It was inhuman, but he wouldn't accept it.

Leonardo sat on the floor, leaned against the door and closed his eyes. He needed to think of a way out, but how?

A few hours later, he felt cold so he went to the mattress and curled up, his stomach growling violently. He thought of his father, wondering if he was well enough to worry or to go to the police to report his disappearance. He was probably too drunk for that. Leonardo felt his chest burn and, looking down at his black shirt, he realized his wound was bleeding. Was this it, then? He took a bullet to save a despicable man like his father?

"I should have let him take that shot. Maybe he would be dead, and I would be living my life."

He lamented and, in a few minutes, fell asleep, defeated by exhaustion.

Leonardo jolted awake when he heard a knock on the door. He looked and saw a plate on the floor. He approached it hurriedly and devoured the stale bread, as his hunger was overwhelming. There was only little water in the cup that barely quenched his thirst. Will the days go on like this? Will I be locked up here, surviving on dry bread and water? Leonardo took a deep breath, feeling like garbage. He never imagined he would be treated this way.

He spent hours lying on that thin mattress, feeling the hardness of the floor beneath him. He was bored and angry.

A few hours later, he fell asleep again.

He couldn't tell if he had just dozed off or slept for a long time when he woke up and saw a man near the door. He sat up, seeing Frank leaning against the door, observing him quietly. Leonardo wondered how long Frank had been there.