I can’t let Leon become the next victim.
“Mom, I have to leave.” The words come out steadier than I feel, but my heart is shattering with every syllable. “Right now. Before he comes back inside. And I have to take Leon with me.”
Mom looks up from Leon, her face is pale but composed. She’s been here since Cristiano’s men bundled us upstairs, keeping Leon calm while I fall apart. I’ve never been this afraid of him. Not even when he locked me in the wardrobe. Not even when he tied me up. Because this time, I’m not afraid for myself. I’m afraid for our son.
She nods slowly and stands up. “You can slip out the side gate while Cristiano is distracted. Take the bus to Rosa’s.”
Leon looks from Mom to me, his little brow scrunched in confusion. “Where are we going, Mama? I don’t want to go. I want to stay here.”
I look at Leon sitting up in bed, so trusting and innocent. What if Leon had looked out the window and seen his father beating a man to death?
I quickly smile at Leon. “We’re going to see Auntie Rosa so you can play with your cousins. Won’t that be fun?”
“Is Cristiano coming too?” my son asks.
My throat spasms with agony. He loves Cristiano, and I’m taking him away. “Not right now, baby.”
“You’re doing the right thing,” Mom says quietly. “Taking him somewhere safe.”
She’s right. I know she’s right. But it still hurts so much.
I move to Leon’s bed and gather him into my arms, wrapping the blanket around him. His medication is on the nightstand, and I grab the bottles with shaking hands, shoving them into my sweater pocket.
“Will you be okay?” I ask Mom. “What if Cristiano gets angry.”
Mom straightens up, her face resolute. “I’ll be fine. I’ve weathered many Montoni tempers in this house, and do you know what I’ve realized after all these years?”
“What?”
“They only hurt the ones they love.”
The truth of those words feels like shards of glass in my heart.
I carry Leon toward the door, my whole body trembling. Every step feels impossible. Every breath hurts. I’m fleeing this house for a second time in my life with a broken heart.
At the doorway, I pause and look back at my mother.
“I love him,” I whisper. “How can I still love him after what I just saw?”
My mother’s eyes are bright with tears. “Go now, quickly. While they’re distracted by other things.”
I take a deep breath and nod, hardening my heart as much as I can against the pain.
I move through the hallway and down the stairs quietly, my heart pounding so hard I can hear it in my ears. Leon is a warm weight in my arms, trusting me completely to keep him safe.
And I will keep him safe. No matter what.
The living room downstairs is deserted. I slip out the French doors and through the garden to the side gate. I can hear voices in the distance. Cristiano giving orders, the scrape of something heavy being dragged across stone.
I don’t look back. I keep my eyes forward, focused on the side gate ahead. Leon shifts slightly in my arms but mercifully doesn’t speak.
The gate opens with a soft creak that sounds deafening in the quiet. I freeze, listening. The voices continue. They haven’t heard.
I slip through and onto the street beyond, walking quickly but not running. Running would draw attention. The afternoon sun is warm on my shoulders. The world looks exactly the same as it did this morning when I kissed Cristiano in the kitchen and everything felt perfect.
I walk toward the bus stop two blocks away, my arms aching from Leon’s weight. Every few steps I glance over my shoulder, expecting to see Cristiano emerging from the gate, his face cold with rage, but the street behind me stays empty.
I’m maybe a dozen yards from the house when I hear the engine. A car pulls up beside us, black, expensive, and familiar.
