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CATERINA
“This isn’t easy for me,” my father rambles on as we reach the interstate and merge into traffic.
It’s not very heavy at this time of night, and I hope we don’t end up getting stuck in a jam somewhere. The sooner we are at the safe house, the sooner I’ll be able to breathe easier. Not easy, but easier than I am now, with my heart in my throat and a sense of dread drumming in my head.
“You think it’s fun for me?” I counter. “I don’t like this any more than you do.”
“You have a choice. That’s what I need you to get through your head. You don’t have to go through this.” His hands tighten around the wheel, his shoulders rising as he takes a ragged breath. “He doesn’t own you. You get to make your own choices.”
“I realize all of that.”
“Are you sure?”
The anger bubbling in his voice tells me I need to take a breath and smooth things over before we steer this conversation into dangerous territory. What I need most at this point is his support to keep me centered, and that’s not going to happen if we’re sniping at each other and hurling ugly words.
“I know it sounds crazy,” I begin as calmly as I can.
“I can think of a few other adjectives for it.”
My teeth sink into my tongue.Don’t take the bait. Don’t let this devolve any further. “I’m sure you can, and I don’t need to hear them.”
“I don’t know what else I can say to get through to you.”
“It’s not a matter of getting through to me. Would you please stop? I’m upset enough as it is.”
Captain Last Word won’t let it go at that. “You don’t need this. That’s all I’m saying.” Before I can argue, he holds up a hand and shakes his head. “Listen to me. I understand I was wrong about Gianni. But that doesn’t make him a good guy. Even if he was, he’s involved with too many people who aren’t. And they want to hurt him.”
When all I do is stare out the window, still biting ny tongue, he sighs. “You know that old saying? You don’t just marry a person. You marry their family. That applies here, too. You are looking to get involved in this entire world, and you’re carrying a child. Do you want them exposed to this?”
“It’s not like I don’t see your side of things,” I murmur, choosing my words carefully. If
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anything, this is something to think about besides the explosion and the fact that Gianni could be under attack at this very moment for all I know. “And I’m not saying it doesn’t matter. It does. But I love him.”
“Caterina…”
“I do. And there’s nothing I can do to stop it. You don’t think I tried? You don’t think I told myself so many times this couldn’t possibly end well? Trust me, Dad. I know.”
“And yet you walk into it with your eyes wide open.”
“That’s just my point. There’s nothing else I can lo. I can’t force myself to stop loving somebody. Could you force yourself to stop loving Mom?”
“I don’t appreciate you throwing that in my face
“I’m not. I’m only trying to show you my side of things. If there was any way I could get through this life without Gianni, it would be different. I might be able to walk away. But that’s just it. There is no going through life without hin. That’s the only way I can think to describe
it.”
Silence falls between us. It doesn’t feel cold, and it’s not tense either. I wish he would say something. I wish I could think of something else to say, anything that might help him understand where I’m coming from.
“I can’t stand watching you walk headfirst into this,” he finally admits. “That’s all. I do want us to have a better relationship. I want us to be a family. But you can’t expect me to be okay right now. I’m driving you to a safe house. Doesn’t that seem out of the ordinary?”
“You know it does. But I’m not running away ever again. I know where I belong.” And when I say the words out loud, when I feel them on my tongue and hear my thoughts being given a voice, I know I’m right. I’m doing the best thing for me and my baby. I’ve chosen this life and everything that goes along with it.
“So long as you’re sure.”
“I am,” I whisper. He sounds so despondent. No matter how much I want to tell myself otherwise, his sadness is going to weigh on me. It’s going to color every interaction we have until the day finally comes when he can move past this ugly, horrible night.
Maybe around the time the baby graduates high school, I guess.
“These new headlights…” Dad’s grumbling stirs ne out of my brooding.
Before I can ask him what he means, I flinch away from the intense glare in the side mirror. “I hate those things. They make it a pain to drive at night.”
“It doesn’t help that this guy is up our ass.” He speeds up a little to put space between us and the offending car. “Nobody behind us for a mile, but he has to ride our tail.”
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Of all the times for me to laugh… “I remember you teaching me to drive. You always drilled that into my head. Leave at least five car lengths between me and the vehicle in front of me.”
“And do you?” There’s a tiny bit of humor in his question, thank God.
“I hear your voice in my head all the time, so yeah.”
He doesn’t laugh—he’s too busy raising a hand above his eyes now that the headlights coming from behind us are blinding him. “What the hell?”
Sometimes a lifetime’s worth of understanding can pass through a person’s head in the time it takes to gasp. Like a sudden d******d. So many things materialize all at once, so fast you think your head will split open.
That’s not a random driver.
Wouldn’t this be the perfect time to come after me?
They were counting on this.
This must have been how she felt once she figured out somebody was on her tail.
“We have to get off the road!!” I twist in my seat, looking behind us with a hand shading my eyes. It’s no use. Those headlights blind me to everything else. I can’t make out the car or who’s behind the wheel.
“What do you mean?” My father peers out the rearview mirror.
“I have a very bad feeling.” The GPS says we’re ten minutes from the safe house. “I don’t think
The car lurches when we’re tapped from behind hard enough to make the phone tumble from my fingers and into the back seat. “Shit!” Dad grunts out as he fights to regain control of the vehicle.
“We have to get away from this car.” I try not to sound as panicked as I’m feeling.
“You think?” His voice is tight, like a wire pulled taut enough that it could snap any second. He sounds like the cop he used to be. “Face forward and make sure your seat belt is secure.”
“Dad?” I can’t find the breath to finish whatever it was I wanted to say.
“I know. Just hold on–and if I tell you to get down, get down.”
From the corner of my eye, I watch his gaze dart back and forth between the windshield and
the mirror.
“This son of a bitch thinks he’s dealing with an amateur.”
“Please, be careful,” I squeak. It’s amazing I can take a breath with my throat tightened to the
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size of a pinhole.
The car lurches again when the driver hits the right corner. This time we swerve to the side and turn halfway before Dad steers us over to the center lane.
Dinner’s churning in my stomach and my life is flashing in front of my eyes. There are only so many close calls a person can have before they’ve had one too many. What sucks is there’s no way to know which one is the last until it’s too late to do anything about it.
I’m too young to die. I have too much to live for. Everything was finally starting to click. I was a heartbeat away from officially being engaged. I was about to plan a shopping trip with Dad. He was finally coming around on so many things and looking forward to being a granddad and, damn it, I need more time.
A single thought rings out loud and clear–so clear I can hear it. More like a prayer than a thought.
Mom. Help us, please.
Is this how she felt? Seeing that car bearing down on her, panic rising in her throat, the
combination of fear and survival instincts making her foot heavier against the pedal.
No. In her case, it was worse. In her case, she was alone. She went through all of this by herself.
“I can’t shake this son of a bitch!” Dad jerks the wheel to the side while barely avoiding sideswiping a truck. I’m unable to bite back a breathless scream and I can’t help but wonder if she screamed too.
But there was nobody there to hear it…
We weave around a few cars whose drivers lean on their horns. They do it again once our pursuer passes. “Dad, I’m scared.” It doesn’t need to be said, but I can’t hold it in either.
“I know, baby.” He jams on the gas and the sudden burst of speed presses me against my seat. “There’s a police station two exits down, just off the ramp. We can make it there.
>>
Two exits? No way whoever is driving that car is going to let us make it that far. Not when they’re up our ass again, the lights getting brighter, bigger.
“God damn it!” Dad shouts as he pulls into the right lane, where we swerve onto the gravel at the side of the road before swerving back into place. The car follows us.
When the phone starts ringing in the back seat, frustrated tears fill my eyes. I know who it is— call it instinct, or maybe a mental connection forged over the past few months. It has to be Gianni. Maybe he’s calling to see if we’ve arrived yet.
My body moves before my brain knows what it’s loing. I start to turn, to look for the phone, but the car jerks forward and I’m tossed back.
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“Face forward!” Dad barks as he fights to regain control.
“It’s probably Gianni! We need help!”
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
