Page 10 of Wild Heart
I take a deep breath and step forward. Chiara and Alessia step with me, and I pause and turn around. This is the moment I’ve been practicing in front of my mirror. The moment that my entire plan depends on.
I take a shuddering breath and let a single tear escape my eye. I silently offer a prayer to my mother to forgive me for using her memory to orchestrate my escape. I hope she’d understand.
“I want a few moments alone with my mother.”
I don’t plead. I would never do that, but I allow the grief to wash over me. For them to see the emotion on my face.
The guards look to each other, uncertain. Chiara is the most senior, and she gives me a hard look. No doubt trying to read any lie beneath my words. I’m a good liar, and she doesn’t detect any.
I also know she lost her mother when she was twelve. It’s why I asked if she could be my head guard.
“Of course, signorina.” She nods her head and takes a step back. “We’ll be right outside. You have your privacy.”
I bow my head in thanks so she doesn’t see the relief that floods me. The hardest part of my plan was getting past the guards. And I’ve done it without raising suspicion.
I will myself to slow down as I cross the threshold and enter the cool chapel.
My mother’s grave is to the left of the apse in pride of place. I walk slowly in case the guards change their mind and decide to come in after me.
When I reach her shrine, I lay the flowers and say a quick prayer.
“I’m sorry, Mamma. I hope you understand that I can’t live like this.”
I cross myself and say the Hail Mary.
My hand goes to my pocket, and I pull out the well-worn coaster that the Prez of a motorcycle club gave me two yearsago. My thumb runs over the number, almost faded now but committed to memory.
There’s been many times over the past two years that I longed to call Raiden just to hear his voice. He’s the first person I thought of when my father told me my fate.
But why drag him into it? It would only end badly for him. If he helped me escape, my father would show him no mercy.
Besides, while I thought we were flirting in the club that night two years ago, it’s obvious he knew who I was all along. He was only speaking to me to keep me there. Whether he knew my father’s men were coming or whether he wanted to keep me safe, probably to earn favor with my father, he had his reasons, and it wasn’t because he was interested in me.
I’ve since learned he has a daughter the same age as me. He was behaving like a protective father. That’s why he gave me his number to use if I ever really needed help. If I texted him for a chat, he’d think I was nuts.
I pocket the coaster quickly. I’ll never use the number, but I like having it with me. I can’t explain why, but it makes me feel safe, like maybe if everything went bad, I’d still have an eject button.
A glance at the door tells me the guards are still outside in the afternoon sun. Moving quickly, I retrieve the backpack that I stashed under the front pew two days ago.
On silent feet, I move to the back room of the chapel and the window where I’ve been unscrewing the latch one turn at a time. The room is full of dried flowers, a hobby I took up a few months back. Usually Chiara is in here with me, and I work on the window, one turn of the screw at a time, when her back is turned.
Today, I turn the screw a few times and the latch clicks open. I wince at the noise the window makes, the hinges creaky with rust.
It’s hard to hear over the hammering of my heart, but I don’t hear any footsteps. If one of the guards came in now, I could explain this away. I could say I needed fresh air, that I left the bag the last time I was here, which is true.
It’s my final chance to stay. I don’t take it.
I throw my bag through the window and climb out.
The branches are thick, but by swinging my weight I make it to the back wall of the estate.
Cassie happened to take up indoor rock climbing a few months ago, and I begged my father to let me do it with her. She thought the idea was her own and not one I’d planted in her mind with suggestive techniques. I feel bad manipulating my friend that way, and I hope she doesn’t get in trouble for it. I’m sure she’ll understand when she finds out my reasons.
The wall is worn back here where old brambles have pressed into it over decades. I launch my bag over the wall, and there are enough holds to scramble up. Then I’m over the wall and dropping down the other side to freedom.
5
RAIDEN
