It’s been a month since I married Adrian, and during that month, I think I’ve fallen in love with the intense man. Adrian is unlike any other person I’ve ever met. Everything he does for me is with a passion I’ve never seen before. He gives me anything, everything.
Like he’s making up for something. Sometimes, he catches himself before he says too much, and he backtracks, wanting me to forget anything he has said.
We have met before, but he won’t tell me how or where. There’s a part of me that has let it go because does it really matter? I’m married to the man now, dare I say, even happily, but then there’s the voice in the back of my head, screaming at me to find the truth.
What could he be hiding?
When I think of his eyes, the same eyes I’ve dreamed about for so many years, I know it has to do with my parents’ accident. It has to be because that’s when the dreams of his dark brown irises invaded my sleep.
What does he have to do with it?
And the thoughts have kept me up at night. It’s why I’m in the kitchen at three in the morning, searching for a snack.
I really want pickles, which is weird because I only want them when I have my period and I had that… “Oh my God,” I gasp, pressing my hand against my stomach, and look down as if it’s about to grow into a watermelon. “No, that’s impossible.”
It isn’t impossible. At all, actually. We don’t practice safe sex. He’s never worn a condom, and I’m not on birth control, so pregnancy wouldn’t be that far-fetched.
Would he be happy? Does he want to be a dad? There’s still so much I don’t know. He keeps me in the dark about so many things. I don’t know what his job is. Any time I ask, he says the less I know, the better, which makes me think it’s dangerous.
I’ve tiptoed around the idea of me getting a job, but I’m waiting until the right time. If I’m pregnant, that will never happen. He’ll want to bubble-wrap me to protect me from the corners of the house. The man thinks anything can hurt me.
I smile, liking how protective he is, but I need to know. I need to tell him, so he doesn’t worry.
How bad would he be if I stole the car to go to the store? Maybe he wouldn’t notice. I’ll only be gone a half hour. He’s still asleep, and maybe he won’t notice.
Is it worth the risk?
Yes, because I won’t be able to sleep otherwise.
I tiptoe to the nearest wall, where a large slab of wood is hanging. There are five hooks, all holding different car keys.
I pluck the Land Rover keys and curse when I realize I have no money.
“Whatcha doin’?” a crunch follows the question.
I jump, holding a hand to my chest, when I see Otello, my oddly kind kidnapper, leaning against the wall shoveling cereal into his mouth.
“Nothing,” I rush to say.
“Are you trying to escape?” he asks, chewing the sugary flakes.
I shake my head. “What? No. I need to go to the store.”
“It’s three in the morning. It can wait until Dri is awake.”
“It can’t,” I blurt, not wanting to explain why. “I really need to go now. I’ll be right back. I promise.”
“You swear? Pinky it.” He holds out his pinky, and I find it hard to believe this is the same guy who kidnapped me.
I’m not even afraid of him.
I should be, but I’m not, which means I should have my head examined.
I hook my pinky in his. “I love him. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Okay, but maybe I should go with you—”
“—No!” I shout a little loud, hoping I don’t wake anyone. “I mean, no,” I clear my throat. “I need to do this on my own.”
“He hasn’t told you, has he? Or you wouldn’t be so confident going out at three in the morning.”
“Told me what?”
“What we do? I mean, it’s been a month, I would have thought…” he rubs a hand over his mouth and sighs. “I can’t tell you if he hasn’t.”
“I mean, I know it’s dangerous. He had to marry me due to a rule to be head of the family business; he won’t tell me anything else. It’s like he doesn’t want to give something away.”
“I’ll tell you, but you can’t tell him, you know.”
I take a step forward and nod too eagerly. “I swear. I won’t say a word.”
He leans in and whispers. “We’re mafia. One of the most dangerous in Italy. We have one rule when the patriarch passes down the torch to the next in line. They have to marry because we do so many terrible things that having a wife takes some of the burdens away.”
I wait for the punch line, the joke, but he doesn’t laugh. He continues to eat his damn cereal.
“The mafia?” My heart thumps in my chest, wild, with a bit of fear yet a little excitement because I’m obviously married to a powerful man.
“Yep. Why do you think I’m so good at kidnapping?” he snorts. “It wasn’t like it was my first time.”
I blink at him, not knowing what to say. I’m not sure how to feel. I feel…brainwashed in a sense. My fear isn’t what it used to be. I’ve become complacent in my dream to escape, and now I don’t want to.
My fear has been buried somewhere. Dri must have taken it from me and placed it somewhere inside himself so I never needed to feel it again.
Even now, while I’m trying to convince myself I should be afraid, all I can think of is how Otello kidnapped me because Adrian has always wanted me. I’ve found a sick, twisted, irrational sweetness in that.
“Now you know. So you need to understand that you might become a target if you go out alone. Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you?”
“I have a feeling Adrian would be furious if you didn’t.”
“I can handle Adrian. I know what it’s like to need to do things on your own. I’m not him, but I like you, and I’d hate to have anything happen to my favorite sister-in-law. I’ll drive.” He dumps the milk into the sink and then holds out his palm. “Come on. Hand them over.”
“Do you have a gun on you? Is it really needed?”
“I have three guns on me at all times. Yes, they are needed. Let’s take the Mercedes, so we don’t have to open the garage.”
“Do you have any money I can borrow?” I ask as I follow him outside, the chilly air wrapping around me.
“He hasn’t given you a credit card?”
“He has. It’s in the room where he is, and I don’t want to wake him.”
“I feel like we are on a mission. I like it. Top secret.”
We climb into the car, the memory of my kidnapping faded just like my fear.
He cranks the car, the engine is quiet as we pull out of the driveway, and Otello turns on the headlights. “So, what are we getting? Knives? Bullets? Are you secretly trying to kill my brother? That’s not cool. I wouldn’t like that.”
I roll my eyes as I clip on my seatbelt. “No. I love him. I wouldn’t hurt him.”
He blows out a breath and nods his head. “That’s good.”
“If I tell you, you can’t tell him. I need to tell him.”
“Okay…” he says, confused.
“I need a pregnancy test.”
The car swerves to the right, and the tires squeal on the road, the rubber burning, and the scent travels through the vents. When he has it under control, he looks from the road to me, then back to the road.
I grip the plastic handle above me because someone can never be too safe.
“Seriously? I’m going to be an uncle?”
“I don’t know. I’m only a few days late, maybe a week….” I bite my lip, trying to think back to when I had it last, and I honestly can’t remember.
So many things have happened since.
“Wow, and Adrian doesn’t know?”
“No. I didn’t even think of it until I was in the kitchen. It makes sense—”
“—Hell yeah, it does. You guys are not exactly quiet,” he chuckles.
My cheeks flush. “Otello.”
“It’s fine. I don’t care. I’m glad to see my brother happy. He hasn’t been since…” he stops himself like Adrian does. “Well, he hasn’t been in a while.”
What are they hiding?
He pulls into the parking lot of the twenty-four-hour convenience store, the closest store to the house. He opens the door, and I grab his arm. “Can I go in alone? I’ll just be inside. I’d rather not have you next to me while I pick up a pregnancy test.”
Otello taps his fingers against the steering wheel. “Okay. But be quick. Okay?”
“Yeah, definitely. Give me five minutes.”
“Three. And I’m coming in.”
“Deal.” I smile at him, then climb out of the car, and rush inside.
The tile is streaked with brown, dirty from years of traffic. The lights flicker above me and the man behind the counter straightens when he sees me, narrowing his eyes.
I give him a tight smile and read the signs above each aisle to search for what I’m looking for. When I do, I rush to the feminine products and grab a digital test because I do not want to question lines right now.
The light flickers again, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I look over my shoulder to see the man behind the counter on the phone, not bothering me, but something doesn’t feel right.
“Just nerves,” I say to myself, holding the pregnancy test in my hand.
My shoes squeak against the tile floors, and sweat beads along my brows as the lights continue to flicker. I pass the shampoo and conditioner, razors, and condoms.
We should have used those, but I bet Adrian wouldn’t have even wanted to listen to that request.
“That all?” he says, scanning the test.
“Yep. That’s it.” I hand over Otello’s card, and his brows raise for a second, but he doesn’t say anything as he swipes the card. He hands it back over, and he blows a bubble with the gum he’s chewing. “Do you have a bathroom?” I shouldn’t take it here, but my nerves are holding my soul hostage, and if I don’t find out right now, I think I might die of an anxiety attack.
He points behind me. “To the left.”
“Thanks.” I swallow, holding the test to my chest, and I practically run to the back left, swing the bathroom door open, lock it, and push down my leggings.
Covering the seat with a protector, I sit down and tear the box open as if I’m a savage. My heart races, and I just know I’m pregnant. I feel it.
I pop off the cap and do what I need to do.
Pressing the cap on again, I slide it back into the box, flush and wash my hands, then walk quickly from the bathroom through the store. I feel the sales associate’s eyes on me, and I don’t look his way.
Only when I walk outside am I able to breathe. I glance into the windshield and see Otello with his hands raised, and I chuckle, rolling my eyes at his impatience.
Opening the passenger side door, I climb in, setting the box on the floorboard. “I was only gone five minutes. It’s all I needed. Now I just wait.”
“Wait? You took the test? What does it say?” he peeks at the floor. “Am I going to be an uncle?”
“I don’t know.” I rub my hands on my thighs. “I have to wait three minutes, and then we will know.”
“Oh, come on! That’s so cruel. Who has that kind of time? I need to know.”
“How do you think I feel?”
“He’ll be happy, you know,” Otello says, lifting his lips into a smile. “He’s been wanting this with you for so long.”
“How? How do I know him? Will you tell me?”
He shakes his head. “I can’t. He has to. I can’t do that. I’m sorry—” the windshield shatters, and Otello shouts, pressing a hand to his chest, his fingers red with blood.
“Otello!” I scream when my door is yanked open and arms wrap around me. “No! Get the fuck off me!” I smash my elbow into the person’s ribs and kick, fighting and giving everything I have.
My eyes never leave Otello.
He reaches into his jacket and pulls out his gun, aiming at me, but it’s too late. His too weak. The gun slips from his hand, and he sags against the seat.
He looks dead.
He can’t be. The crazy asshole. I’ve grown to actually care about him.
“Put me down! You mother fucker!” I shout. “Help! Someone help—” my mouth is covered with a disgusting sweaty hand.
“Otello!” I scream for him, but he doesn’t rouse for me.
My eyes drop to the floorboard where the test is, and as I’m dragged away, I realize I might not ever get to know the answer.
All I have are my instincts, and something is screaming at me that I’m pregnant.
I just hope I live long enough to tell Adrian.
