Chapter 3 Make A Run For It
I was shaking.
The loud noises the guns made still rang in my ears, and a heavy headache was making its way to a migraine.
Wrapping my arms around myself, I closed my eyes and tried to stop the image of a bloody man being dragged to the center of the backyard.
The boss didn't even bother to have the man who shot at him be taken inside.
Instead, he had walked up to him with a knife.
I, with all the wives and children, was still under the table as I watched the boss crouch in front of the intruder and point at him with his knife.
I couldn't hear what they were talking about. Dominic spoke in a low voice, but from the looks on the intruder, I could tell that he was terrified.
"Stop looking," Julia whispered, but I couldn't look away.
I let out a gasp when the boss suddenly grabbed the intruder's hair and pulled him closer. He said something before he pointed the knife at the intruder's left eye.
My stomach turned when the intruder screamed.
Tears were pooling down my cheek when suddenly a man stepped in front of me, blocking my vision from the horrible sight.
The man standing in front of me had one white shoes and the other was fully covered in blood.
Closing my eyes, I tried to block the ear-deafening screams.
And now, sitting on one of the chairs with the other wives and crying kids, all I wanted to do was run away.
Rubbing my arms, I tried to warm myself, but the cold had sipped through my skin, refusing to leave my bones.
The men had finally talked Dominic into taking it inside, and they had dragged the intruder into the house.
His screams had slowly disappeared before they closed the door, and everything went silent.
None of us had left the security of the large table until some of the guards told us that we could come out now.
We had, one by one, crawled out from underneath the table and picked up the overturned chairs to sit, and waited for the men to return.
The guards were pacing around, checking each corner of the backyard with their guns in their hands.
No one dared speak a word. Why would we?
It was an hour later when the men started to return. I didn't look up as the woman slowly started to leave.
Shaking like a leaf, I stayed seated in my chair until I felt a presence behind me.
I looked over my shoulder to see that Victor was standing behind me with a t-shirt instead of the suit he was wearing.
I stood up and faced him, ready to go to the house.
Victor pulled a jacket up and draped it over my shoulder. It wasn't the suit jacket he was wearing, but it was warm. So, I did not complain.
"Thank you," I whispered before I looked down.
I caught sight of his shoes, one white and the other covered with blood.
The sight made my stomach roll, but I held it down with all the might in my body.
"Heather?"
I tensed up at the sound of my mother's voice. I glanced in her direction, and my goodness, I did not expect to have that much hate for her burning my insides.
It saddened me really, to think that my own child could one day look at me the same way I was looking at my mother.
I tore my eyes away from her and planted my gaze on Victor's chest.
"May I speak to my daughter?" My mother asked, her voice soft and low as she spoke to Victor, as if she was afraid to use her actual voice around him.
I looked up at Victor, hoping he would tell her off. After the horror I just witnessed, I did not have it in me to talk to the old witch just yet.
I have been avoiding her like the pleage since she and my father sold me to the family all for their own selfish reasons. There was no way I wanted to listen to her talk about anything.
"No," Victor responded, and I felt my shoulders relax a bit.
"But, I just need a few..." My mother started, but Victor leveled her with a glare.
He gave no reasons as to why he didn't want her to speak to me. He simply reached out for my hand and pulled me away from her, detaching himself from the ruined event and walking towards the spot his car was parked at.
I didn't dare to glance at my mother again, already feeling her glare, burning a hole at the back of my head. At least I got something out of this marriage, and that's a good shield from the toxicity that is my mother.
We returned to his house, and I was ready to pass out the second my feet entered the living room.
I dropped myself on the couch and laid on my side, not even bothering to take my strapped flats off.
The day was exhausting, both physically and mentally. I finally allowed myself to touch my lower abdomen. I felt no bump, making me wonder how far along I was.
My heart broke for the life growing inside of me, for the life she or he will be leading once they are born. I already felt like a horrible parent for dragging them into this life.
Was there any way I could make life easier for them? Was there a way to prevent them from living like the rest of the men and women in the Mafia?
Those questions were spinning in my head while I slowly drifted away into a dreamless sleep, letting both my mind and body rest from the constant stress I was in.
I woke up the next morning, not on the couch, but in bed, perfectly tucked in and warm.
I don't remember waking up and walking up the stairs, nor would I dare to imagine that Victor had carried me upstairs and tucked me into bed.
Either way, I woke up comfortable and less tense than the previous day. But of course, I couldn't catch a break.
My phone was on the nightstand, and the low buzz made my stomach drop.
There were a few missed calls from my mother and father and a single text from Victor.
I ignored my ignorant parents and opened his text message.
"I'm coming to pick you up." was all it said.
I'd slept in, and it was nine in the morning. I was starving and thirsty, but seeing as he said he was coming, I needed to prioritize my looks.
Going out for the third day in a row was not what I was hoping for, and with the information I was withholding from Victor, I was hoping to have a few hours to myself to take it all in and figure out how I was going to tell him about the pregnancy.
I tried to find the best way to break the news to him while I got ready. I pulled on a blue knee-length dress and blue heels to match before I went downstairs.
I was hoping to grab a bagel or anything to nibble on before he got there, but I was very short on luck.
Victor came bursting through the door like there was a three-headed hound chasing after him.
He said no words, but the gun he was holding in his left hand, his dominant hand, said it all.
Shifting the gun from his left to his right, he reached out and grabbed my own with his left, and started leading me out of the house.
The car was already running, his driver waiting in the driver's seat.
Victor opened the right back door and held it open for me. Once I hopped in, he closed the door and jogged around the back of the car to get to the other side.
"Stop by the casino first," he ordered, and the driver nodded his head once before pulling away from the house.
The tension in the car nearly choked me out. It felt like something bad had happened that put Victor in a rush. It made me realize that this might not be a lunch gathering at all.
The car stopped across the street from a casino.
"I'll be right back," Victor commented as he tucked the gun into his jacket and hopped out of the car.
I watched him walk across the street as if there weren't cars zooming past him. A soft sigh escaped my lips as I turned my gaze to my window and took it to the many people who were buzzing around the busy street, going about their day.
My mind returned to the question I had been asking myself the previous day about how I was going to save this child from the life I was living. As I watched the chaos in the busy streets of the city, a small voice at the back of my head whispered the idea to me.
No. It will not be possible and successful.
He will find me right away, and when he does, I can only imagine what he would do to me.
But was I just going to sit there and let every opportunity that came by me pass? Was I going to live in fear for the rest of my life? Was I too weak to even try?
I glanced at the driver through the rearview mirror, and I could see that his eyes were planted on the revolving doors of the casino.
I kept my eyes on the rearview mirror as I slowly took my heels off. Trying to run away in heels would be shooting myself in the foot before starting the race.
Once they were off, I slowly reached for the door. I tried my best to keep the silence as I opened the door, but the click of the door opening caught the driver's attention.
My eyes widened as they clashed with his through the rearview mirror. He frowned first before giving me a look of warning.
There is no going back.
I pushed the door out and jumped out of the car.
"STOP!" The driver snapped, but I got a head start, and I ran into the busy street.
I ran like my life depended on it, because it truly did. But not just my life. The new life inside of me depended on it, too.
So I disappeared into the chaos of the streets, into the thick crown of people, and I ran until my bare feet could no longer carry me another inch anymore.
