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My father’s house dominates the skyline, with my tower at its peak. Oh god. Is my stranger bringing me back there? I tap his arms, trying to make him understand. Don’t bring me back there. You can’t. I’ll die if you do.
But he turns down the road and begins running away from my father’s house. I don’t have time to question it before we reach a car in a long line of cars down the street that came for my wedding. My stranger opens the passenger door and deposits me in the seat. I land with a huff, then watch him run around the other side and join me in the car.
For a moment, there’s a second of peace and quiet.
Then, as my stranger pulls away from the road, bullets begin hitting the car. I duck down and cover my head. My stranger growls and hits the brakes hard. In the long line of cars, most of them are on the road ahead of us. The guests are leaving the wedding to get away from the fighting. It’s backed up. We could be here for hours.
“Stay down,” my stranger tells me as he ducks in his seat and rests his gun in his lap. “I’m going to try to get us out of there.”
I glance out the back window to see my father and the rest of his guards, those who remain, come out of the trees and aim for our car with their guns. One of the bullets hits the driver’s side window but doesn’t break the glass, leaving only a dent.
I grab my stranger’s arm and point at the window.
He nods. “Bulletproof glass. Cost a fucking fortune, but so worth it. Now, stay down, Pia. I didn’t go to all this trouble for you to just end back up in there.” He points toward the mansion. “Nor do I want you to die.”
I settle back in my seat. I want to ask him why he cares about me. What have I done to earn his affection? I’ve tried to earn my father’s affection over the years but never succeeded.
He tries pulling around a car, but someone else pulls in front of us, honking their horn. “Fucking bastards,” he mutters, gripping the steering wheel tight. I can see the whites of his knuckles. I reach over and lay my hand on his, trying to offer him the same comfort he’s given me. His dark eyes meet mine, and they make me feel breathless, especially as they soften.
But then another bullet hits the car, and his soft expression morphs into frustration as he pulls away from me. “We’re sitting ducks out here. Fuck this.” He slams on the pedal, and we lurch forward. I have to grip the dashboard to steady myself. My stranger slams our car into the person’s car in front of us, and he doesn’t let up off the gas pedal. He keeps pushing into the car until they pull off to the side. They honk their horn, but it doesn’t look like my stranger really even cares. Then he slams into the next car up until they do the same. The people in front finally start getting the message, and more people drive off to the side of the road, giving us room to actually move.
I gasp as my father slams his hands into my window. We’re moving so slowly that he was able to catch up.
“Damnit,” my stranger grumbles.
“Pia, get out of this car right now,” my father demands, his voice muffled through the glass. I physically move my body away from him even though we have a thick sheet of metal and glass between us.
“Pia, don’t do what he says,” my stranger tells me. “I’ll get you to safety. I promise.”
I look between my father and my stranger. One man is all I’ve ever known, but he’s treated me like I’m less than human. The other man is a stranger, yet I’ve never felt safer than I have with him.
I turn back to my father and shake my head slowly, effectively telling him “no.”
His eyes widen as his face grows red. “Pia Vitale! Get out of the damn car.” He tugs at the handle, but the door is locked. “Pia!”
An opening the cars up ahead gives us a chance to move.
“Thank fuck,” my stranger mutters as he slams on the gas pedal, and we take off. My father stumbles back. I watch him in the side mirror as we drive away, getting smaller and smaller. From this distance, my father doesn’t seem so intimidating.
I keep watching him until we drive so far away that he disappears.
“He’ll follow us.” My stranger looks behind us. “Your father wants you back. But you’re mine now. You understand that, don’t you?”
I shrug. Not really. What claim does my stranger have over me? He’s not my father. He’s not my husband. He wants to be, though. Can I still somehow get out of this?
I have no money, no job experience, no way to live on my own. But I could find a way.
I hope.
I’ve been hoping my entire life to get out of that tower, and now, here I am, out of my tower. If I just wish hard enough, things will happen for me. Even if it takes me another ten years, things will happen.
“Pia, do you understand?” he repeats.
I give him another shrug. I can’t nod yes—I don’t want to give him any ideas.
My stranger growls. “You’re mine, Pia. Soon, you’ll be my wife.”
I look out the window as we drive away from my father’s mansion—my horror house. It’s beautiful out in the countryside. Lush green trees. Fields on either side of the road. The sight makes me sad, though. How much have I missed out on over the years? How much beauty? How much fun?
