Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 96170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
I’m pregnant. I’m married. Raf’s slowly waking up and Elisa is going to have to find herself. No more drifting along in Dad’s house. The Famiglia’s going through a period of transition and I’m right there with it.
This was supposed to be my escape. All my life, I dreamed of this moment. A good car worth serious money means actual freedom. I could still keep going, follow I-95 for hours, for days even, maybe turn out west at some point, wander around for a while. I could get lost, truly lost. All in the car I rebuilt myself. All in my freedom.
I just don’t want it anymore.
The idea of running feels wrong now. I fed myself on dreams of disappearing into the sunset, of waking up in strange towns with only stranger places to head toward. But now that seems so shallow and worthless.
What’s the point of freedom if it doesn’t get me anywhere?
I have a purpose now.
And that’s so much better than some shallow idea of freedom.
Eventually, I turn around and head back into the city. I sit in traffic for a while but eventually take an early exit. Going slow and hitting a dozen stop signs is better than sitting in a line of cars. I think of it like taking the scenic route, and by the time I get close to the house, I’m ready to park and get the hell out of here.
It’s bittersweet, pulling back into the tent. I feel myself releasing an old dream and letting it drift away. But I’m also embracing something new. A better future. One I didn’t even know I wanted until Luca. Now maybe my life doesn’t look the way I wanted, and it never will, but that’s a good thing.
I park the car and kill the engine. It’s later than I expected, sometime just after dark. The twilight’s thick and I’m wondering what Luca’s up to. I’m thinking about having dinner, about curling up on the couch, maybe sitting in his lap and kissing him, when there’s the sound of a crack like a firework and a blood-curdling human scream.
My heart starts racing. I sit, unmoving, paralyzed. Another explosion, like someone’s shooting off more fireworks, and I realize they’re gunshots. There’s more yelling, frenzied and terrified, and I catch movement outside the tent’s front flaps. Men running nearby, men with guns.
I get out of the car, heart hammering. What am I going to do? I’m trapped outside, totally exposed. This stupid tent isn’t exactly keeping anyone out. I peer through the crack in the front flaps and back away, stumbling, nearly falling on my ass.
Men are coming toward me. Men in black tactical gear and wearing black masks painted with vicious skulls. Each one carries a rifle like something straight from a war video.
No time to freeze. I turn and start toward the back, but this alley’s a dead end. If I try to run, those guys are going to spot me. I need a place to hide, and I need to do it fast.
I turn to the Spider. I don’t even know why. I throw open the door, thinking about cramming down under the seat, but I won’t fit. Instead, I slam the trunk release, close the door, and run around to the back.
I stare inside.
It’s dark and crammed. My heart races and I feel like I’m going to throw up. The trunk is my best bet.
I can’t go inside of there. I just can’t.
I’m terrified of tight spaces, and I’ll barely fit inside.
There are more gunshots. Suddenly, light streams in through the front of the tent, and I realize there are holes straight across it. Oh, god, they’re bullets. I stare down into the trunk and gag, thinking about how horrible it was the last time I was trapped.
But I can’t let myself get killed. I put a hand over my belly. I’m not alone anymore. I’m not fighting for myself. There’s this baby and there’s Luca, and there’s the family I want to build for him.
It’s everything that’s keeping me here. It’s the new, better dream. If I don’t get in that trunk, I might lose it all again.
With a moan of pure terror, I climb inside. I’m shaking violently and sobbing, but I cram myself down, folding my body uncomfortably to fit the crazy tight space. If I still had the spare tire in here, there’s no way I’d fit. I reach to grab the trunk, lightly pulling it shut with a soft click, and suddenly, the world’s plunged into blackness.
The noise outside is muted. I feel like I’m at the bottom of a swimming pool. Tears stream down my face, but I have to be quiet. The whole point of being back here is to hide. If they hear me crying, I’m fucked, and this will have been for nothing.