AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I go through every possible variation of the event in my sleep. It’s morbid, but there’s not much I can do about my subconscious. I guess it’s a way of working things out, making them make sense. There’s no making sense of any of this. No matter how I look at it, it’s completely hopeless.
Only once has Enzo visited me after the wedding night. It almost makes me laugh thinking of it that way. Our wedding night. Not exactly how I imagined it—I’m sure he feels the same. I doubt he imagined mourning his grandfather and learning everything that was supposed to be cemented between the two families was based on lies and more lies.
And what did he do during that visit? He threw clothes on the bed, then left and locked the door behind him without uttering a word.
And now here I am. Just as clueless as I’ve been all along. With no control over anything—my life, what happens next. I don’t know what he’s planning. Any minute, he could storm in here and shoot me in the head. I have no way of telling if and when that’s ever going to happen. This is no way to live, yet I know I don’t want to die, either. I don’t know what I want anymore.
When I start hearing more movement downstairs, though, I can’t help but be afraid. Something’s happening.. Wondering what it could be is enough to drive me out of my skull, but I can’t stop. I listen at the door, pressing my ear to the wood, but the best I can make out is muffled conversations. I can’t make out a single word.
Enough is enough. I can only stand so much of this helpless feeling. I knock on the door, praying I’m not shooting myself in the foot by doing it. “Hello? Somebody? Anybody?” I hold my breath, listening hard, and at first, I hear nothing. Ten seconds pass. Twenty. Finally, after half a minute, somebody unlocks the door, and I scramble back to make room for them.
It’s one of the guards, and to say he looks put out by me would be an understatement. “Just wait a minute.” Then he closes the door and locks it without giving me an explanation, or any idea of what’s happening. I don’t know whether to be afraid or what. I don’t know anything.
More time passes, time spent pacing and wringing my hands, chewing my lip, and chewing my nails. I’m falling to pieces in this stupid little room, practically wearing grooves in the floor from all my walking back and forth. I have to do something. I can’t lie in bed and fester.
I’m close to the door when it swings open to reveal Enzo. He looks better than I’ve seen him since the wedding, fully dressed and well-groomed. When he dropped off those clothes yesterday—or was it the day before?—he was unshaven, his eyes bloodshot. Now he at least looks like he’s showered today and bothered to take care of the basics. That has to be a good sign.
What is not a good sign is the way he grabs me by the arm and, without a single word, drags me out of the room. Instead of dragging me to the bathroom the way he normally goes, he pulls me down the stairs and straight out the front door. The car is waiting, the passenger side door open. He practically throws me inside before slamming the door, then marches around to the driver’s side and drops behind the wheel.
I’m afraid to breathe too loudly. I’m afraid to do much of anything. But I can’t sit here and not say a word when it’s obvious this is my last car ride ever. “Where are you taking me? Where is it going to happen?”
It isn’t until we’re out of the driveway and leaving the development where the townhouse sits that he bothers to acknowledge me. “What? What are you talking about?”
“Where are you taking me? You’re taking me someplace to kill me now, right? I can see why you wouldn’t want to do it back there. Too much cleanup. What, are you putting me in a hole someplace? I only want to know. I want to be able to prepare myself.”
He taps on the wheel with his fingers, the muscles in his jaw ticking. I wish I could see inside that head of his. The slightest clue, the slightest hint of what he’s thinking. I would take anything right now over this unnerving silence.
“You’ve watched a lot of movies, haven’t you?” he finally asks in a flat voice.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Here you are, assuming I’m going to put you in a hole. Who said anything about putting you in a hole?”
“Okay, then in the swamp. There have to be swamps around here someplace, right?”
“That would be easier and more efficient,” he mutters. “Let the animals do the work for us. But no, we won’t be doing that, either.”
Something inside me snaps. “For God’s sake, what are we doing? Can you at least tell me that? Or do I have to be in the dark until the very end?”
“A few days spent on your own clearly did nothing to quiet you down.”
“A few days spent on my own worried sick and wondering if I was living my last day. Sorry if I’m a little bit unnerved.”
“You can stop being so unnerved. I’m taking you home.”
I can’t stifle the little gasp his announcement stirs up. Home. I’m going home! Of all the crazy scenarios that have run through my head, that was the single one I didn’t dare imagine because it seemed impossible. Why break my own heart by imagining the impossible?
As if reading my mind, he continues, “My home. We’re going back to Italy, where we belong now.”
“Why? I don’t understand.”
“That’s where I’m from. It’s where I belong. And since you are my bride, you belong with me, so you’re coming along. We’ll be safer there.”
He hesitates, then adds, “Besides, I can’t bury my grandfather here. He belongs back home with the family. See that car behind us?”
I check out the side mirror, and my eyes widen at the sight of a hearse behind us. I don’t think I can be blamed for not picking up little details like that when I was so sure I was being driven to my murder.
“So we’re going right now? As in, today?”
