Page 97 of Married With Malice

And he’s MINE.

No matter how much he makes me want to pull out my hair at times, I wouldn’t give him up for anything.

While I’m trying to calm myself down with steamy daydreams of Luca, something terrible happens. The engine belches, trembles and finally dies. The gas tank isn’t empty but the damage from the accident must have been severe.

Unfortunately, I know as much about cars as I do about marine biology, which is nothing. Looking under the hood will be useless.

The inevitable moment of decision has arrived.

Within minutes, the car becomes uncomfortably cold. The prospect of slowly freezing to death while entombed in a Toyota isn’t especially appealing.

How far away from the resort could I possibly be?

If I can find my way back to the main road, I’m confident that as long as I keep moving up the incline, I’ll reach the main building. And if I’m going to leave then I ought to leave now. Every minute that ticks by brings nightfall closer. I don’t even want to think about the possibility of roaming around out here in the frigid pitch dark.

It’s hard enough to see as it is. The tall trees make everything shadowy and falling snow obscures the view. I try to follow the furrow of tire tracks in the snow but every time I think I’m moving in the right direction I get pummeled by a fresh gust of wind and lose my way.

Time is in a suspended state as I trudge forward. I might have left the car three minutes ago or thirty. If anyone ever wants to know how it feels to be inside a snow globe, I think I can give a pretty accurate description. Sometimes I look up and can’t see the sky at all. There’s only snow. The effect is dizzying.

A general weariness is beginning to set in. My legs ache, I can hardly feel my feet and my lungs are being punished by the freezing air and the altitude.

Typically, I stay in good athletic shape. After all, nobody wants to take skating lessons from someone who gets winded after one lap around the rink. But I’ve abandoned workouts for the last couple of months and right now I’m really suffering the results of that neglect.

Imustbe near the road.

It’s inconceivable that it could be much farther. With every step I expect to land on hard asphalt and with every step I’m disappointed in the uneven, unpaved ground that has no end.

The desperate fears I’ve been trying to squash start creeping into my mind.

If I don’t make it off this cursed mountain, what happens to my sisters?

Daisy and Sabrina will be heartbroken beyond belief. Worse, there won’t be anyone to protect them from whatever schemes are cooked up by our father. Mama might try but she’s never known how to stand up to him.

Without me, my sweet girls will be at Albie Barone’s mercy.

Just the thought of my father makes my legs pump faster out of sheer spiteful hatred.

When my father’s plans go haywire, he wastes no time making new ones. The only reason he’d mourn the loss of his middle daughter is because it would mean lost opportunities. He’d quickly pivot to finding new ways to capitalize.

He might force Sabrina into marriage. It’s possible he’ll make Big Man Bowie disappear.

And what about Luca? What would happen to him?

The truth of Luca’s fate hits me with such vicious certainty that I nearly collapse into the snow.

Luca will be destroyed. He’ll blame himself. He’ll descend further into the midnight abyss that’s been slowly swallowing him since the day he became Richie Amato’s apprentice.

These past few months I’ve been so preoccupied with my own feelings and my own heartache. Luca might be far more trapped, forced to do the violent bidding of awful men. This isn’t his nature. He loses little pieces of himself every day. I’ve watched it happen.

Luca is already sinking. Now he’ll believe that I ran away from him. The weight of that tragic burden will crush him for good.

If Luca loses me like this, he won’t recover, not ever.

This is a desolate moment to arrive at such an epiphany, as I’m lost in a blizzard with frigid wind battering me from every direction as my limbs slowly grow numb.

My toe kicks a snow-covered object and I stumble, unable to keep from face planting in the snow. Pain explodes in my left wrist when my palm hits a hard obstacle, likely an obscured tree branch. This makes me oddly furious.

FUCK THIS SNOW AND FUCK THIS BLIZZARD!

---