There, I toss the things from the bag I’d packed for the weekend with Sergio into the laundry bin without looking at them, and put in two pairs of jeans, some sweaters and under things. A pair of running shoes. I switch the TV in the bedroom on, for Ricco’s sake. From the bathroom, I get my toothbrush. I sling the bag over my shoulder and carry it downstairs, put on my coat and boots, and, taking Pepper, I walk out through the back door. Ricco and the other man are on the front side. There’s no way to post a man back here unless he’s in the backyard and I refused. I walk around to the neighbor’s yard and through the door of our shared fence. Pepper follows easily, she’s familiar.
Mrs. Robbins comes to the window of the back door before I even have a chance to knock.
“Natalie, what a nice surprise.” She’s about seventy years old and watches Pepper occasionally.
“Hi Mrs. Robbins, how are you doing?” I ask, walking inside. I’m attempting upbeat, but it sounds strange. Forced.
“I’m good, honey. Cold in this drafty house, but what else is new? You? You look tired, dear. Everything okay?”
I smile but it feels foreign. “Yeah, just school is busy. I was actually dropping by to ask if you’d mind watching Pepper over the weekend? I’m thinking of paying my parents a visit and Pepper doesn’t do well on the longer bus trips. I know it’s short notice—”
“Not at all,” she says, smiling to Pepper who’s already beside the old woman. “I’d love the company, honestly. Besides, it’ll force me to get myself out of the house and get some exercise. It takes a lot to keep all this in shape, you know.” She winks, patting her generous hip.
I smile. “Thank you so much. You have the number?”
“Sure do.” She points to the fridge where my parents’ home number and address are stuck with a magnet from the last time I went away a few months ago. “Spend as much time as you like, dear. It’s nice you still visit them.”
A pang of guilt has me shifting my gaze to Pepper.
“My boy, well, you know how boys are.” She shakes her head and I feel sorry for her. I should drop by more often. Her son has visited exactly once the whole time I’ve been next door and he lives about a ten minute car ride away.
“Thanks, Mrs. Robbins. Maybe when I’m back we can go get lunch or something.”
“I’d like that.”
I say goodbye, give Pepper a big hug and walk back out into the yard. I take the exit opposite the one to my house which leadsto the alley behind our street. From there, I put my hood up and walk quickly away from the house, taking the long way to the bus station. I buy a ticket to Asbury Park, where my parents live.
The bus doesn’t leave for another hour so I order a cup of tea at the café and wait. I don’t bother to call my parents because they’re not home. They always spend this part of winter with my aunt in Arizona. The house will be empty, which is what I want.
I watch the passing cars on the drive and when I get to the bus station, I take a taxi to the house. It’s too far to walk and the drive takes twenty minutes. My parents live right on the water, it’s a beautiful small cottage they bought a few years ago. I pay the taxi driver and carry my bag around to the back of the house, unlock the kitchen door, walk inside. I set my bag down and the familiar smell washes over me and it feels safe here. It’s silent, completely still, and I don’t switch on the lights as I walk upstairs to the room I stay in when I visit. There, I turn on the lights and close the curtains looking out onto the street. I get sheets from the linen closet and make the bed and, after brushing my teeth, I lay down to close my eyes. Maybe I can finally rest. Take a reprieve from what my life has become.
Because I need to figure things out.
Because I’m pregnant with Sergio Benedetti’s baby.
And as much as I love him, as much as it will hurt to walk away, how can I bring a baby into this sort of life?
I roll over onto my side, feel a tear slide over the bridge of my nose.
Am I foolish to think he’ll let me go, though? He’s the most possessive man I know. From day one, he owned me.
No, he won’t let me go. Not if he finds out.
He can’t ever learn about the baby. I can’t ever see him again.
“Mine. No matter what.”
I have to keep this secret from him because I will be more his than ever if he ever finds out about this baby.
24
SERGIO
Ithought Vitelli was behind Natalie’s kidnapping. Either the old man or his sons. But it’s not them. Too fucking obvious and they’re not that stupid. The DeMarco family? They’ve essentially been castrated. Lucia DeMarco’s father being made to watch what he watched, as sick as it was, it was effective. So who the fuck else would dare?
My father was outraged. Roman immediately started to list names. Make calls. But it’s fucking killing me not to know. Not to wrap my hands around the throat of whoever ordered her kidnapping. To squeeze. To watch him gasp his last breath when I choke the life out of him with my bare hands.
I’m parked in my usual space at the garage and see Ricco sitting in the café at the end of her street. He can see her house and keep warm—weather’s been icy this last week. I give him a nod as I walk past. The house is dark but for her bedroom window. I knock and slide my key in at the same time. She’s been avoiding me but that’s changing tonight. I want her to move into my house. I don’t want her here on her own anymore. And I need to get her to talk about what happened. To tell it to me so she can get rid of it. So she can stop seeing it because I know she doesevery time she closes her eyes. She has to tell it to me so she can stop being afraid.
