“He’s crazy about you too. We can all tell.”
His words are meant to reassure me, but he might as well have taken a dagger and shoved it straight through my heart. It’s said there’s a fine line between love and hate. I wonder how long it will take for Cristian’s love to blacken and transform into hate?
John Angelo frowns as he looks at me, but he doesn’t pursue the conversation, and I’m glad.
I have to practically drag Elio out of the playground a few minutes later. “Please, Sloane. Five more minutes,” he begs, and I hate disappointing him, but my nerves can’t handle being outside any longer. I want to get him back indoors where he’s safe.
“I’ll have to start making dinner soon, and I’ve got a surprise for you.”
“What is it?” he asks, clasping my hand and grinning as we exit the park with two bodyguards behind us and two in front.
“Want to learn how to make paper airplanes?”
“You can do that?” His eyes widen.
“Yep.”
“Yay. I’m gonna make one for my daddy.”
Screeching tires skidding on asphalt claim my immediate attention, and my pulse races in my veins as I whip my head around. My heart thumps wildly against my chest wall as a black van stops at the curb a few feet behind us. The back door slides open, revealing six armed men clad in black, wearing balaclavas. Our four bodyguards pull out their guns as screams echo around us. “Give us the kid, and no one gets hurt,” one of the men shouts as they jump out of the van and start walking in our direction.
Reacting on instinct, I scoop Elio into my arms. “Hold on tight, and don’t let go.”
“Get Elio and Sloane out of here,” John Angelo bellows at Umberto and Clint as the kidnappers come closer.
“Go, Sloane.” Clint places his arm behind me and prods me forward.
My legs are pounding the sidewalk before I’ve even processed the motion. Adrenaline is coursing through my veins as I push my limbs faster, desperate to get away from the men who wish to do Elio harm. I will die before I let them take him. More screams pepper the air as gunshots are traded behind us. Elio is crying, clinging to me with his head buried in my neck. His entire body is trembling.
“Shit,” Clint says. “Run, Sloane.” Warmth fades as he falls back.
“Aim for the front entrance,” Umberto says, dropping back into Clint’s vacant position. “Get out onto the main road where it’s busy. They won’t follow.”
My feet pound the pavement as I run, hugging Elio tight to me.
“Fuck,” Umberto shouts, still running behind me. Alarm bells ring in my ears, but I don’t look back. My sole focus is getting Elio out of here to safety.
“Keep going, Sloane,” Umberto adds. “Get to the main road and call for help.”
I scream as gunshots sound closer, and I feel the loss of Umberto behind me. Bile swims up my throat, but I try to stay calm. Elio is counting on me, and he’s not getting hurt on my watch.
“I’m scared,” Elio cries.
“I know, sweetie. Keep your head down.” Up ahead, throngs of parkgoers are causing a traffic jam at the main arch in their haste to get out of the park. I’m praying some police officers show up soon. Surely, someone has raised the alarm by now? The woman running beside me screams, tumbling to the ground with blood gushing from her leg.
I don’t stop to think; I dart left, taking the side path that circles around to the information kiosk.
Elio screams when a shot whizzes over our heads, and warmth trickles down my leg when he wets himself. I’m panicking as I race forward, cradling Cristian’s son to my body, begging someone up there to help me.
“You can’t run from this, Sloane,” a man with a horribly familiar voice says, and my legs almost go out from under me. I look behind me at the man in the mask chasing me. He’s eating up the distance between us, but he appears to be the only one. Farther down the road, bullets are crisscrossing through the air, flying over a few prone bodies on the ground.
Making a split-second decision, I dart behind a cluster of trees out of sight and put Elio down. “You need to run to the nice lady in the kiosk.” Elio makes a point to say hello to the volunteers who man the information kiosk every time we come here, and they all dote on him. Hailey is on duty today, and she can hide him inside. I point toward the path ahead, in the direction he needs to go. “Run as fast as your legs will carry you, Elio, and don’t stop for anyone or anything. Run to Hailey, and tell her to call the police.”
“Sloane, I’m scared.”
“Be brave like a superhero. I’ll be right behind you.” I give him a gentle push. “Go now, Elio. Run fast, and don’t look back. Keep running. Go. Go.”
He takes off crying, pushing his little legs, and I pray he makes it. I flatten my back to the tree and swipe a thick fallen branch from the ground as I wait. A modicum of relief settles when Elio rounds the bend up ahead out of sight.
