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Fucking macho men. I hate it.
With a shake of my head, I look away from him and toward the other horizon where the sun is beginning to rise. I wrap the blanket tighter around my midsection but a cold chill still passes through me. "How long do you think we're going to be outside?"
"I don't know. It's not like I have a timetable for this. Until we can get to somewhere safe." He replies out of breath.
"We won't survive like this." I pluck at the edge of the thin shirt I'm wearing.
"You'll be fine." He grunts and turns away from me.
"I might be but your son won't" I shout at his back and watch as the muscle there tighten. He's frigid and psychotic but I noticed from the very first second he verified that Chance was his that there was a primal need in him to protect our child. At least that I can be grateful for.
"What do you want from me?" He asks turning his head over his shoulder.
"We need to go back to the house, let me pack correctly. He needs food, better clothes, diapers. You need to be stitched up. You think another killer is going to come to the house now? Wouldn't they work while it's dark?" I ask not really knowing what the protocol in this kind of situation is.
"They can show up at any time but I do know I've already taken out two of the Torres Brothers."
"Brothers?" I didn't know there was more than one.
"Yes, the one that was shooting at you at your house and the one we just dropped down the well. There's another who usually stays back at their safe zone to make sure everyone gets out without being picked up by the police. A lookout." He replies. "He'll be coming around soon to look for his brothers."
"So we need to be fast. I can do that." I nod my head, it wasn't the most ideal situation but it was possible.
"You can only pack exactly what you need, nothing extra." He glares at me as if to enforce the fact that he means what he says. Of course I know he means what he says, he just burst some man's eyeball in his eye socket, he's nothing if he's not serious.
Quickly we make our way back to my house and I get to work getting the clothes that we need. I pack Chance three sets of clothes, some diapers, wipes and some formula. I pack everything I can in a backpack. Vitto on the other hand decided that he needed to get rid of the body that I didn't even know I had in the backyard.
This would be a great time for me to try and run again but the last time I did that a massive man with a hunting knife tried to cut my throat. I'm going to take my chances with Vitto for now.
Five minutes later, Vitto comes back in, barely able to keep himself upright.
"You're going to be no good to us in a minute." I reach over to him and try to help him stand up. He snatches his arm away from me.
"I'm fucking fine, Stella!" He barks at me and I flinch away. My previous relationships bubbled up in my mind. I've made him mad, all that's left for him to do is to backhand me. Then he'll be just like the rest.
A second passes and then another. I let my shoulders relax when he doesn't strike me.
"Where's the first aid kit?" He asks and I rush over to the bathroom to grab the kit from under the sink. It's a hospital grade kit and has pretty much everything we could need outside of an emergency room. We can't take it all with us.
"Did you want to be a nurse or something?" He asks when he sees the large case.
"No, I just wanted to be prepared. Never know when I was going to get shot or something." I joke morbidly but it gets an amused grunt out of Vitto. He brings the first aid kit into my bedroom and I watch in awe as he quickly but meticulously starts trying to sew himself up.
"The minute I'm done we're out of here. Make sure you have everything you need." He tells me.
I nod, and walk over to my chair to pick up my sweater. I don't have a coat yet but I haven't really needed one yet, my fleece sweater has done the job of keeping me warm since I've been here. As I grab it from the back of the chair, I turn it sideways and my golden reminder drops to the floor and rolls right in front of his foot.
"Sorry," I bend to pick up the bullet from the ground, as I stand up Vitto grabs hold of my hand forcing me to show him what it is.
"You kept it?" He asked, one eyebrow hitched up and a small smirk on his face.
"It's a reminder. It was the moment I got my second chance. I usually keep it on my person and touch it when I feel like things are getting too hard. A reminder that things could be so much worse. I could be dead." He lets go of my hand and I slip the bullet back into the sweater pocket.
He grunts at me again before he turns his focus back on his arm. He turns his body in a strange angle trying to find a way to stitch up the back side of his arm.
With a sigh, I unhook the baby carrier from my chest and lay Chance in the middle of my bed where I know he won't roll off. "Are you going to be this stubborn the entire way or are you going to figure out that shit could be much easier if you just let me help a little."
"Why would you help me?" He asks as he lets the needle and thread drop, still attached to the wound.
