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I’ll never accept being a canary in a golden cage.
I pick up speed and run harder, needing to purge this burning frustration. Even in the two weeks since I took up running every day, my fitness has improved. I no longer huff and puff after ten minutes. I’m pretty pleased with my efforts.
My thoughts swirl back to this morning. Tears well in my eyes, and my throat tightens.
How has anger suddenly turned into despair?
I need to slow my running. I’m not able to draw in enough air, my chest too tight from all the rampant emotions.
The front gate comes into view. It opens and a removalist truck slowly pulls in. The window on the driver’s side opens and a bearded, rough-looking guy starts talking to the men guarding the gate. A heated discussion follows, and more guards get involved. As I approach it, I see Mauro open the door and pulling out the driver, searching him for hidden weapons while some of the other guards open the back and begin scanning the contents. Taking in the scene before me, I wonder what’s inside, but I doubt anybody would tell me. I slowly run past, but no one pays me any attention.
I pick up speed again. It’s meant to be a workout after all and not a stroll in the park. When I run past the house, Tiero and Mateo are still deep in conversation on the terrace. When I see him, my anger boils up again, and even though he can’t see my face, I glare at him.
At this rate, I think I’ll have to run at least ten rounds of this track to feel any better.
When I come around to the gate again, the truck is still there, but all the guards except one are gone and so is the driver. The remaining guard is busy talking into his phone, looking at the side of the truck as if describing it to someone.
I keep running, and then it hits me like a ton of bricks. The other side of the truck is unattended, and the gate is open.
Oh. My. God!
My heart stops for a moment.
It’s the opportunity I’ve been waiting for.
I briefly glance behind me to confirm that the men aren’t coming back. Before I can think better of it, I make an abrupt turn, setting off at a lurching run through the gate… my gate to freedom.
A rush of adrenaline propels me forward, a burst of energy flowing through every cell and muscle.
My focus is clear, my mind on one purpose… freedom.
I keep running as fast as my legs will carry me, my heart in my throat. I’m not looking back, not taking the time to see if anybody has noticed me taking off.
There is no yelling or shouting coming from behind me.
Maybe I got away.
Maybe no one noticed.
I pick up my tempo, how I don’t know.
The rented estate is on the outskirt of Monza, in a rural-looking area. I run on the side of the main street leading into town. Gradually, the streets get busier and more people are around.
I dart down one street and then another, running past shops and cafés.
My heart is hammering against my chest. I don’t slow down. I’m running on pure adrenaline.
I can’t feel my legs anymore, yet they keep on running.
As I speed past people, they look at me like I’m possessed, like I’m being chased by a hungry mob of wolves. And in my mind, I am.
God only knows what Gualtiero will do to me this time should they catch me.
Now that we slept together, the no-touching rule is unlikely to still apply.
I keep on running like the demons from hell are chasing me. The jiggling dislodges my ponytail and the wind blowing from behind me whips strands of my hair into my eyes, making it near impossible to see. Yet, I don’t slow down. Nothing is going to stop me.
I don’t know how long I’ve been running, but I finally have to slow down and come to a stop. I need a breather.
