I move automatically, heading for her at once, like she’s more the master of my body than I am.She sits up slowly.When she reaches up to rub at her eyes, the empty handcuff bumps her collarbone.
“What time is it?”
“A little after three in the morning.”Though I’d tried not to wake her with my conversation, it’s actually good she’s up.I’d planned to be on the road by five anyway.If Messina is waiting to strike, it’ll be during a point of transition, like getting into our vehicles, or during the drive north.I want to get that part over with as quickly as possible, preferably before the sun rises.
“Do you want to sleep a little longer?”I ask her.She can doze a bit while I shower and dress.
But she shakes her head, sending the loose strands of her hair, rumpled from sleep, swishing.“No.Might as well just get today over with.”
It’s such a contrast from the conversation I just had, with all of Valentina’s sentimental well-wishes for the day, that it’s nearly fucking laughable.
“Fair enough.”I shoot Robbie and Leo a quick text, letting them know we’re up.Aurora switches on the bedside lamp, then slips from the bed, heading for the bathroom.I let her close the door between us, because there’s nowhere for her to go in there, and no way for anyone else to reach her.There’s no window in that bathroom, and the only door into it is the one I’m guarding myself.
I hear the toilet flush, then the tap turning on, then the shower running.While she’s in there, I double check my bag, making sure I’m set.Looks like we should be good.Guns.Clothes.Cash.Condoms.I’ve also got the wedding license, my passport, and two fake passports for her.One with the Angela LeBlanc name, and one with her real name that I got sorted out yesterday.Aurora Bianchi is the name on the wedding license – it has to be, since I’m legally marrying her to fulfill the tenets of her papà’s will – so I figured I’d better have some ID with her real name on it, even if the document itself is fake.
When the shower shuts off, I follow her into the bathroom.She knows the drill by now, and doesn’t need me to order her to remain in here while I shower.She wraps herself in the only towel in here, dutifully waiting for me.
The glass walls of my shower have steamed up from her time in here.She’s nothing but an angelic blur beyond, her beauty smeared and fogged-over.But she’s there, however blurry she might be, and that settles something deep inside me.
I tell her to keep the towel when I get out.I can let the air do the work for me.But after Aurora dresses for the day – a pair of soft, dark pants and a white sweater – she hands me the towel she used.It’s damp from the water it sucked from her skin, warmed by her body heat.I take it, plunging my face right into the thickness of it.Inhaling a scent that’s more soap than her.
Once we’re both dressed, we head downstairs to find Robbie, Leo, and Elio’s housekeeper Rosa in the kitchen.The scent of freshly baked goods wafts through the air, the source of which is revealed when Rosa pulls a tray of freshtreccine di ricottafrom the oven.When Leo and Robbie hover hopefully nearby for a taste of the braided pastries, she chides them that the treats have to cool, and that she still needs to add the powdered sugar on top.Robbie and Leo leave her and the tray alone, straightening up and nodding deferentially in greeting.
“Ah.Signore Titone.And the miss,” Rosa says in accented English.“You need anything more from me today?”
“Pack a cooler for us,” I tell her.“The pastries, the food you cooked yesterday, and anything else that will travel well.We’ll be on the road for a while, and I don’t want to have to stop for supplies more often than we need to.”
“Please,” Aurora adds when I’m finished speaking, tossing me a pointed look.I ignore her, knowing that Rosa’s always been a crabby old lady and that she doesn’t give a flying fuck whether somebody says please or not.
But maybe I’m wrong.Because an uncharacteristic softness comes over Rosa’s wrinkled features.It doesn’t last long, but I see it all the same.
I guess that’s just what Aurora does to people.She makes them fucking fall in love with her with nothing but a smile and a word.Even Rosa.
“Sì, sì, I pack it for you,” she blusters, her eyebrows coming down in a hard V, deepening the wrinkles between them.It’s like she’s trying to buffet back whatever emotion Aurora’s sweetness has inspired in her.She makes a shooing gesture with her arms, indicating that she wants us to all go away and leave her alone.Despite this, though, when the pastries are ready, I can’t help but notice she offers Aurora the first one.
After pastries and coffee, there’s nothing left to wait for.I’m itching to get on the road, impatient to bring Aurora under the protection of my name.To start the clock on the thirty days ahead of us.So she can be safer all the sooner.
“We’re not going outside,” I tell Aurora when she wanders towards the front door.“We’ll go to the garage from in here.”
While there’s no indication Messina – or anyone else – has gotten past this property’s fencing, I’m not going to have her outside in the open air any more than I need to.All of the vehicles at this property come equipped with bullet-proof windows.I plan to put her inside one and not let her out again until it’s time for her to become my wife.
I show her the way, Robbie and Leo following behind with the cooler and bags.When I open the door into the garage and turn on the lights, Aurora lets out a low whistle.The garage is bigger and nicer than most normal people’s houses.Though Elio has taken many of our late Uncle Vinny’s vehicles to his own property, there are still six left here, gleaming like gemstones beneath the garage’s lighting system.I ignore the bright and colourful sports cars, choosing a black SUV that’s less likely to draw attention on the roads.
“Leo and Robbie, you’ll drive that one,” I say, indicating a sleek navy sedan nearby.“Aurora, you’re with me.”
She’s a little pale, but she nods all the same.I watch her as she clambers into the front passenger seat, wondering if she’s going to be sick again today.The pastries and coffee seem to be staying down alright so far, but who knows how long that will last.I wouldn’t be surprised if she hurls all over me again when it comes time to say, “I do.”
Would be rather fitting, I suppose.
Keeping an eye on her, I toss her bag and mine, along with the big cooler, into the backseat.Then, I pull myself into the driver’s seat and shut the door.
I’m about to start the engine, but I hesitate.She clicks her seatbelt into place, then waits.
There’s something churning in my guts.Or maybe clutching is a better word.Like someone’s got a hold of my intestines, and now they’re fucking twisting.
The last time I was out in public with Aurora, I lost her.
Words come firing to the forefront of my mind.Words like “safe” and “scared” and “please don’t fucking go.”
