Page 62 of Dare To Free Us

As for giving birth, there were always programs helping out single mothers, I would also make sure to hold back enough cash to pay hospital bills. I thought about the quarter-million dollars in the house safe that I would be taking with me.

Any larger amount would be too much to carry on me. It would have to do as a start.

Maria was out for the evening, probably shopping again. Knowing I wouldn’t have to worry about running into her made the coming task easier.

Pushing my food around on the plate my stomach churned. Nerves made me want to bounce my leg and bite my lip, but there was nothing for it, I had to get on with it or lose my nerve altogether.

Matteo’s handsome face sparked in my vision, my subconscious trying to stop me, knowing the pain that leaving was going to cause.

I pushed it aside and pictured a round little face with chubby cheeks, looking up at me with pure trust and innocence. I held onto the image as I rose from the table and walked into the foyer.

Chris was on front door duty, he watched me approach with zero emotion.

“I’m craving ice cream, I want to go pick some out at the place on Boylston St. Please have my car brought around.” My cheeks prickled with fear as Chris started down at me. For a moment I was terrified my thoughts were scrolling across my forehead.

“I’ll have your car brought up,” he said.

I cleared my throat. “Thank you. I’ll grab my purse.”

Heading upstairs I threw on tennis shoes to go with my bright teal leggings and soft white sweater. Then I went to the closet where I pulled out the largest purse I owned— that merely acted as a shell to hide the backpack with extra clothes and fake ID. I would pick up a burner phone when I could.

Going to the back of the closet I opened the safe hidden in the wall. It popped open with a small click, the sound echoing like a gunshot in my brain as fear of being discovered made me jumpy.

Three million in cash sat in neat piles. I quickly counted out the quarter-million I planed on taking. Then gingerly picked up the 380 pistol Matteo had gotten for me. I didn’t feel comfortable with guns and always had guards, so I never carried it before. Closing the safe back up I pushed the cash and gun into the bottom of my bag-within-a-bag, and stepped into the bedroom.

I stopped in my tracks as I let myself take in my room one last time. My hands started shaking as memories flooded my mind. Beautiful ones that tried to steal my breath.

Looking at the bed I saw Matteo and I making love on the sheets. Beautiful moments of pleasure and love. Raising my eyes a bit higher I looked at the rings on the corner posts and the hook in the center of the headboard. Those memories were frantic and wild, full of surrendering every bit of myself to Matteo.

Tears stung and the lump in my throat made swallowing the images nearly impossible. My heart played a vicious game of tug-of-war with my conscience, the strain strong enough to weaken my knees. It all felt wrong and yet undeniable. Matteo was my home. My life. My dark prince.

I’ll never love another.

With heavy feet and shaky hands I left the room before fear and memories of pleasure could stop me. Placing a hand over my belly that was just starting to always feel bloated, I forced myself to remember why I was doing this.

The car ride was the most daunting experience of my life. Chris and the driver stayed silent as ever while we made the trek into Boston’s busy city streets. Another bodyguard had come along as well, sitting behind the driver and looking bored out of his mind.

Guilt rode me hard as I imagined what Matteo would do once they called admitting that they lost me.

Or caught me trying to run away.

I shoved that thought aside before the idea made me chicken out. Fear had already gotten my heart pounding so fast and hard I was sure everyone could hear it. It was all I could do not to fidget in my seat.

Once we arrived and parked in front of the shop my legs felt like jelly. Three times I caught myself slowing, my mind telling me to go home.

As we entered the white space splashed with color I sent up a thank-you to God for the long line. Chris and the other guard were at my back like monkeys ready to climb on. Already we were getting curious looks and whispers about us. I could only imagine the speculations.

The line was moving slow but time was also running out. Rubbing my tongue to the roof of my mouth I tried to work saliva back into it. My cheeks were heating with fear, making me all the more nervous that Chris would see that something was off.

Clearing my throat I turned to my guards. “I have to use the bathroom. Could one of you hold my place in line?”

Chris barely held back his eye roll. “I’ll take you. Stay here Seth.” His deep voice felt like chains shackled to my ankles, making me feel like I’d already been caught.

Weaving our way through the maze of small tables we made it to the back hallway where the restrooms were located. The bathrooms were multi-stall, so when I came out as someone else it would be believable— something I planned ahead.

Without looking back I pushed through the door, hurrying to the first open stall. With my hands shaking so bad they hardly functioned I stripped out of my bright clothes into a pair of black skinny jeans I ripped up, a grey T-shirt, a black sweatshirt Matteo use to run in, and red Converse flats that I’d only worn once.

Then I pulled out my old raggedy backpack from college that had been in the bottom of the box I opened the other day. Throwing it over my shoulder I exited the stall and went to the mirror. Quickly pulling out a fat, black eyeliner I piled it on until my entire eye area was black. Then took the foundation I used in the wintertime during my lightest skin tone and generously applied.

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