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I hurry down the drainpipe, careful to keep close to it so that I’m not seen. The moment my feet touch the ground, I’m moving quickly, pressing my back against the wall, my feet not once making a sound. I see the break in the trees, the one place I can escape through.
Marco has a forest that edges the land at the back of his house. Why? I have no idea. It’s the easiest place for an attack, and it’s also my way out. I reach the corner of the house and take a steadying breath, watching the revolving camera hit the tree line as I count.
8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, go.
I run like I’m in the hundred-meter sprint, and I don’t stop to look around as I make a mad dash for the trees. The second I reach them, I dart into the thick, overgrown bushes and hide behind the branches. They’ll conceal me from the security camera and the men on patrol.
I wait a few moments, listening, watching, waiting. But there’s no sound, no noise, nothing. I take a deep breath and push further into the thick trees, not ready to smile yet, not wanting to curse myself by believing I’m free.
I keep pushing hard, moving quickly but as quietly as I can through the forest. I know when I reach the clearing, I’ll no longer be in Marco’s territory. I’ve made it past the first hurdle. Now I need to get out of here and into the city, into the bustling streets, where I can blend in with the other homeless people of Chicago.
I’m almost free of the Outfit. I’m almost free of the life they wanted me to lead. I move through the forest at a run, needing to find the way out, glad I’m under the cover of the thick and dense trees. I’ll be able to hide if I hear anyone coming.
It’s almost daybreak when I find the clearing. I see a man dressed in leather sitting astride his bike. Normally, I wouldn’t approach a stranger, but today, I need some help.
Here’s hoping he doesn’t murder me.
TWO
DARIO
FOUR YEARS LATER
“What’s going on with you?” Ade asks me, her voice soft and filled with worry.
Guilt eats heavily at me as I see the scar on her cheek. I wasn’t to blame for what happened to her then, but I hold some responsibility for the pain she went through from our parents. I should have been a better brother, one that took care of my sisters. Instead, I was so wrapped up in my own shit that I didn’t see what was right in front of me.
“Dario,” Ade says again, reaching for my hand and squeezing. “Talk to me, please?”
I’m watching her today. Her husband isn’t comfortable leaving her right now and I don’t blame him. My sister is pregnant and she’s vulnerable. She’s still dealing with the fallout of the bombs that took the lives of our youngest sister and Ade’s husband’s uncle. Our sister, Vivianna, was like Ade’s daughter. She was the one who took care of her, and her loss has affected Adelina the hardest.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “I should have checked in with you. I should have known he would have turned on someone else.” The guilt is eating me alive. I let my sister feel the wrath of our father because I got too strong for him to continue that shit with me.
She pulls in a ragged breath. “No,” she breathes. “Oh, Dario, no. It is not your fault. None of what’s happened is. You helped me,” she whispers. “You knew something wasn’t right, so you went to Elio. Your distrust is what saved me from that hell.”
She throws her arms around me and hugs me. “I still should have done more.”
“You couldn’t have,” she tells me. “I assure you, Dario, I do not blame you for what happened. I do think you should have told us about what our father was doing, but not for me, but for you. You went through all that alone, and I wish you had told us. We could have helped you.”
I wrap my arms around Ade and hold her tight. “I was ashamed,” I confess.
She nods. “I know. I get it. I was too.”
Of course she was. You don’t expect to be beaten by a fucking grown-ass adult. The shame of it hits you out of nowhere. You battle internally, wondering if you should speak out, but then think against it, worried people will blame you for it happening or tell you to do things differently. It doesn’t matter. Nothing you do will change an abuser. You can be the quietest, most well-behaved person, and change everything about yourself, but they’ll always find something to fault, some reason to take their anger out on you. In the end, it was easier to hide it than feel the shame of someone finding out.
“You are so much better than he was,” she tells me. “I’m so glad he’s dead, Dario, so happy that he can’t hurt us anymore.”
The fucker took the easy way out. He put a gun to his head and killed himself. The fucker knew he was going to die, but he decided to be a coward and not face the wrath of Hayden, Rocco, Elio, and I.
“He died too easy,” I growl. I’m still pissed that I wasn’t able to kill him.
Ade’s laughter is soft. “I know. But he’s gone, and you are going to be an amazing man, Dario. I know that with every fiber of my being.”
“You’ve got too much faith in me,” I tell her. I’ve fucked around a lot. I didn’t take my responsibilities seriously and have a lot to make up for.
“No, I don’t. I have the right amount of faith in you. You do not see what I do, and that’s okay. One day, you will. You’re one of the best men I know, Dario. You’re protective, loyal, determined, and caring. That’s all that anyone could ever want. I know if something happens, you will be there. I can count on you.”
Seriously, she has me on a fucking pedestal and I don’t deserve to be on it. I failed her, and I failed Vivi. I should have protected them from our parents. Instead, Ade was almost beaten to death and we lost Vivi.
