It means Gianna won’t be mine.But she won’t be anyone else’s either.And she’ll be with her family.It’s the best I can give her.
Chapter49
GIANNA
Matteo was ignoring me.Not returning my glances.But I could feel the heat of his sunshine eyes even through the cold glass.So I knew he was only pretending.
I gave all my attention to the game, just so I wouldn’t give us away by staring at him.I wasn’t doing a very good job not sneaking glances at him though, and each time I looked at him, my cheeks grew hotter and my heart rate faster.
Then Chiara and Dad were arguing about the split of the rent on a joint property they owned—something they shouldn’t have been able to co-own anyway, but they always make their own rules whenever we play, which frustrates even my peacekeeper Mom.She was just telling them this when Rafaelle burst onto the patio, arms spread wide as he rushed towards us.
“Go.Go now.We gotta run.”
The right side of his shirt was covered with a huge crimson stain, and it took me a few moments to realize it was blood.By then Mom and Dad were both on their feet, Dad was holding the small pistol he always keeps on his person and looking back at the house.
“Are we under attack?”
“Yes,” Rafaelle said.“We gotta move.”
He’s usually very respectful and proper when he speaks to my father.So the fact that he’s practically shouting at him now in a thick accent means this is serious.Mom gathers up me and my sisters and starts herding us to the stairs that lead down to the garden.Distant gun shots and the sound of car engines are renting the previously perfectly silent night as we run down the marble steps.I’d kicked off my shoes while we were playing and the stone is ice-cold under my bare feet.I land on a sharp pebble as soon as I clear the last step, the pain jolting me to the reality of the situation.
Where’s Matteo?Why isn’t he helping Rafaelle get us to safety?
The house behind us is all lit up and the sound of gunfire is louder now that we’re out in the garden and there isn’t anything blocking it.I can’t see Matteo anywhere.
Please let him be OK.Please.
Rafaelle is herding us towards the dock, urging us to run faster.I only run as fast as my mom and sisters, not wanting to get separated, not wanting to leave them behind.The part of the garden we’re in is dark.But I can hear thudding footsteps coming closer, loud even on the soft, dewy grass.
And then flashlights are in my face, blindingly bright.
“They’re here,” a gruff voice says.“Get the old man.The women are coming with us.”
Dad turns and fires at the voice, Rafaelle follows suit.Lidia shrieks and freezes, I grab her arm, and Mom’s and pull them both after me, Chiara helping.
“We need to get to the boat,” I tell her.“You can drive it.”
She nods and I pick up the pace.The sound of gunfire is deafening, and it masks any sound of pursuit.I dare not stop running, I dare not look back to see if we’re really not being followed.
The dock is just a few yards away now, the boat right where we left it earlier today.I never loved it, but right now, I can’t wait to get aboard.
I push Mom and Lidia towards it as soon as we reach it, but to my horror, Chiara isn’t right behind me like I believed she was.
“Go start it,” I tell Lidia, praying she knows how.But it’s not hard.We’ve all taken turns driving the boat in the past.It’s just that Chiara is the best at it.“I’m going back for Chiara and Dad.”
“No, I’ll go!”Mom yells in a pleading voice, making no move to board the boat.
I don’t argue with her, I just bolt back the way we came, hoping she’ll get on the boat.
By the faint light of the flashlights, I see Rafaelle and Chiara holding one of Dad’s arms each, as his feet drag on the grass behind him.His chest is sticky with something that’s blacker than the night.Blood.
Others are shooting up a storm in the distance.More of our guards must have arrived to keep the men with the flashlights away from us, but bullets are flying so close I can hear the whizzing by.
“He’s been shot,” Chiara is saying, or sobbing more like.“Help.”
I rush to them, and try to grab hold of Dad’s arm too.A bullet whizzes past my face, right between Chiara and me, passing so close I can feel its unnatural heat.The force of its passage knocked Chiara to her knees, Dad’s arm slipping from her grasp.But Rafaelle was still dragging him forward.
He stops now, looking back.“Go, go, get him to the boat,” I shout at him.“I got Chiara.”
