Page 3 of Under His Embrace

I was always busy like this, the highest-ranking capo of the Constellas. But this was different, having someone at my side like Liam. I could count on him, even if he was bound to be busier soon as Eva’s husband.

Everything’s been changing lately.Dante meeting Nina and expecting a baby soon. They’d be married this year, I bet. Then Tessa and Romeo getting engaged. Liam and Eva.

Change would only continue to come, but I didn’t count on anything drastic altering my life.

Not like that. I wouldn’t be paired up with anyone. I couldn’t imagine sharing my life with one woman. I wasn’t looking, and I never would.

Been there, done that.

I lost my one true love years ago, and the gaping hole in my heart that Chloe left kept me unavailable to ever considering letting anyone near it again.

2

CHLOE

Inever thought I would return to my hometown, especially not on the run from masked men who burst into my workplace, guns blazing.

I couldn’t give myself a chance to think about any of it yet. Not the sight of my new bosses gunned down and bleeding out on the floor. Not the shattered windows and stink of smoke clinging in the air, that sulfur odor mixed with the tang of blood in a nauseating combination. As I clutched the steering wheel and sped away, still high on the adrenaline rush of facing a life-or-death scenario, I grimaced and willed my stomach to settle.

Just don’t think about it. Don’t think back.I wasn’t in a position to ward off thoughts when it was all so fresh on my mind, but I had to focus on hiding. I could embrace the freaking-out part later.

Hide and lie low. Freak out later.This wasn’t the first time I’d chanted that mantra to myself. Sadly, this wasn’t my first rodeo of escaping a shitty situation. The last time I’d been this scared, though, was when I ranawayfrom Beckson. The irony wasn’t lost on me that I was hurrying toward it now.

My heart hammered faster as I desperately steered off the highway. The exit signs for Beckson were familiar, but it wasn’ta comfortable recognition. I wasn’t lured here out of any sense of belonging. Beckson was no safe haven, and I doubted I could rely on any one person or place to offer me shelter.

Yet, I had to plan on pulling off and trying to hide. To run on foot. To bunker down and keep my head low like I did at A&J’s deli when the shooters rushed through. In the back of the business, I tucked under a sink and curled up tight, fearing I’d be spotted and shot. Here, in Beckson, I’d need to hide even better. Small towns weren’t the best location to get lost in.

My options to survive were fading, and wasn’t that the damn truth. All my life, I'd felt like I operated on a low bar of standards—just to survive. To get through one day just so I could try to give the next one my best.

But my hand was forced. I had no other options to continue getting away because this van was nearly at empty. I hadn’t really considered the fuel when I climbed into the driver’s seat back in the city. From downtown to Beckson, I spent all the gas in my getaway.

What the hell else could I do? That pair of men showed up at A&J’s so suddenly that my new bosses, the managers, didn’t have a chance to duck from the gunfire. I heard it when I was in the back and hid, near the rear exit. The gruesome bloodbath I spotted through the window into the deli’s shop space had me panicked and fleeing as soon as the shooters turned their backs.

After hiding and waiting for the opportune moment, I sprinted out the back, but I didn’t get far. Another man was creeping in from the alley, and I just barely had the time to dive for the rusty old van that Manny and Suzie said they used for deliveries. He fired at me without pause, shouting at me to stop. I didn’t. So long as I could breathe, I’d fight to survive.

I didn’t know who these men were, why they’d shoot up a local deli shop, or what they could want. Moving on autopilotand driven with the instinct to flee, I got into the van and took off.

If the tank were full, I would’ve left the whole damn state. I would’ve driven faster and further to escape the SUV that chased after me out of New York. I’d lost them a little, weaving in and out of lanes, but they always seemed to catch up. My ignorance of the city aided me. I got lost, and that was how I couldn’t throw them off course—because I didn’t know any course.

On the highway, though, they got slightly behind with the traffic clogged up. Once we reached the open stretch of the expressway, they were able to stay on my tail.

“Okay. It’s now or never,” I whispered to myself, hoping that speaking the words out loud would infuse confidence into the air, into me.

I gritted my teeth and tried to breathe as steadily as possible as I white-knuckled the steering wheel. Keeping an eye on the SUV in the rearview mirror, I waited until the last second to swerve to the right and exit. Tires squealed. My shoulder ached from how hard I yanked the steering wheel to the side. Slammed up against the driver’s door, I held on the best I could to avoid rolling over.

Yes!The engine growled and protested with the rough maneuvering, but I was upright and still speeding along the ramp. I did it! I was still on the move.

I pressed harder on the gas, demanding that the van give me all it had in the reserves of its tank. It had to go. This had to work. Glancing into the mirror, I saw that I’d pulled it off. Not only did I get off the highway and not roll over, but I also lost them. The SUV didn’t have enough time to get off and stay on my tail. They’d need to get off at the next exit or do a U-turn.

I bought myself time by sneaking off the expressway, but as I sped into Beckson, I winced at the noises from the van. Thatarrow was below E after my daring escape. No gas remained in the tank. Running on fumes, I had to think fast. Really fast.

Frantic and still so on edge from trying to run, I scanned the barren stretch of the highway roadside. Tall weeds remained despite the winter coming and going. Brown grass covered the land, not growing green yet with the lazy start to spring. Litter clumped at taller stems between the guardrail posts, but past all of that, I spotted another familiar sight.

The Beckson Motel was a rundown dump. It was ugly from years of neglect ten years ago when I left town, and it sure didn’t look any better now.

It wasn’t a great option, but I was stuck. I had no choice. The van slowed and then puttered to a stop on the road leading to the driveway for the highway motel.

Pushing it into the lot wouldn’t make a difference. Besides, with the arrival of cold rain, I wasn’t sure I could push it to a parking spot.

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