Page 45 of Pocketful of Us

Time came to a still after that.

Minutes felt like days and hours felt like years.

I couldn’t sit still, even though I didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. Still inside the Hummer, and surrounded by six burly Italians dressed in the finest of suits, I fidgeted restlessly, hoping and praying for a resolution that involved nobody dying.

I knew it wouldn’t happen.

Couldn’t if they wanted to. These men were mobsters. They paid their debts with blood and settled their feuds by taking the lives of their aggressors.

Problem was, Sketch and I didn’t belong in this world. We might be the children of violent men, but we weren't raised to live by any code or survive in this world.

Curling my hand around my belly protectively, I closed my eyes and said my prayers.

Keep him safe.

Please Lord, keep my Sketch safe from these monsters.

I'll do whatever you want.

I'll go to church every Sunday.

I'll be a good Christian woman.

I'll be the best mama I can possibly be.

Please, Jesus, I'll never ask you for another thing, but please…please keep the child growing inside of me and his father safe…

"We're under attack!"

"Wh-what?" My eyes blinked open and my entire body seized with terror when the door of the hummer was ripped open and the sound of gunfire pierced my eardrums.

"I said move!" one of Raffaele's men repeated, dragging me out of the hummer and shielding me from an onslaught of flying bullets. "Now, now, now!"

Shoving me to the ground, the burly bodyguard dragged me around the side of the property, continuing to shield my body with his. "Run," he hissed, thrusting a gun into my hands. "Go now."

"But...but…I don’t –"

"Run or die," he hissed shoving me towards the back yard. "Find somewhere to hide. Four of our men are down. If I make it, I will come find you. I promise." His dark eyes burned holes in mine. "Go now."

And then he was gone.

Moving on basic primal instinct, I did exactly what I was told and ran away from the house as fast as my legs could carry me. I didn’t know where to go, nowhere was safe anymore, but I didn’t stop moving.

Run.

Move your ass, Romi.

Don’t you dare stop!

Choking on my own fear, I fought the urge to curl up in a ball and pressed on. Even though I was fairly certain I'd never been more scared in my life, I fought my fear and kept going. Maybe I'd had enough of being pushed around by bully men or maybe it was my prematernal instinct kicking in, demanding I protect my unborn child. Whatever it was, it was keeping my mind clear and focused. It was making my feet move forward.

Armed with a gun I didn’t know how to use and only my wits to protect me, I rounded the outdoor pool, my feet taking me on a journey I had taken a thousand times.

Feet pounding through the neatly trimmed gardens and shrubbery, I ran straight for the tree line at the end of the Capaldis property and slipped through the tiny, child-made gap in the bushes that linked their back yard to ours.

My muscles burned and my legs protested, but I didn’t dare stop to catch my breath.

Finding somewhere safe to ride out this bullet ridden storm was my first and only priority.

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