Page 54

Matteo didn’t treat me badly at all. Yes, he held me captive, but he was gentle with me. He wanted me to be comfortable, and he provided me with entertainment and clothes and a bathroom. At least I wasn’t held in a cell, with a scared little boy, with a bucket to piss in.

I think back to how much fun we had in the park. That walk was so enjoyable. Gio had so much fun picking up rocks and identifying them. The smoothies were delicious, and the company was great.

I’m not an idiot; I know he’s a Don of a powerful family. I know what he stands for, what his family represents. I know he does illegal things, bribes cops, and probably kills people. But so does Andrea. I know my brother can be so ruthless he’ll put a bullet in someone’s head while their child is watching.

At the end of the day though, they didn’t hurt me. Matteo didn’t hurt me.

In fact, the more I think about it, the more I realize that aside from that initial period where we met, we’ve gotten along great. We have the same sense of humor, we enjoy food and wine, we both love to spend time by the pool. We both love to read.

And then there are other things…like the way he looks at me, and how those looks linger far longer than they need to. The way he touches my back even though I always pull away, or he guides me to a seat, or the casual way he touches me when we talk.

Not the filthy way that Tony touched me that made me feel violated.

I sigh. Matteo is…different.

I rest my head on top of Gio’s and close my eyes. I drift off for what feels like just a moment when the cell door opens again. I look up sharply, and Gio stirs in my arms.

Two guards walk in with two buckets. They set them beside the old one, take the first one, and leave.

Relief washes over me that the guard listened to me. I want to get up and look inside the buckets, because I’m curious, but they come back in with two plastic containers which they put beside the buckets on the floor.

They leave again, but the door doesn’t close. They come in again, this time with flasks of water and a tray of food. Neither of them says a single word while they’re in and out of the cell. Finally, they shut the door after they leave and I listen to their retreating footsteps.

Once I’m sure they’re gone, I get up slowly, leaving Gio sitting on the blanket. I go and explore what they’ve brought.

The first bucket is a clean, empty bucket while the other is filled almost to the brim with water. Great, now we can wash up. Gio will be pleased about that.

I check the first plastic container, and it’s empty, so I move on to the second, which is filled with toilet paper, wet wipes, and a towel.

I can’t help but smile in relief. Not only can we clean up, but we can dispose of the dirty paper and stuff as well. Those goons put some thought into this. Huh!

I pick up the water flasks and the tray of food, and I go back to Gio, who watches from the corner. He licks his lips but doesn’t speak.

I sit back down and offer him a water flask. He takes a deep drink, and I let him have it for a while before I say, “Easy, we don’t know when they will next bring us fresh water. We need to ration.”

Gio looks disappointed but caps his water. I look at the food. I know Gio is as hungry as I am. There’s simple food on the tray: bread, butter, cheese, and tomato.

I look up at the window at the fading light. It must be early evening. It’s been over twenty-four hours since we last ate. I make Gio a rudimentary sandwich and then make myself one. We eat in silence, savoring each bite. As Gio eats, he starts to look better, more grounded. I smile softly at him.

“You know, when I was your age I used to ride horses.”

“Don’t you mean ponies?” Gio asks.

“No, really big horses,” I say. “As soon as I could sit in a saddle, my parents let me take riding lessons, but my earliest memories were from when I was about six years old. I had a horse named Old Lord. He was such a gentle horse but very naughty. If you were feeding the other horses carrots, he would use his bum to push them out of the way and grab the carrots from your hand.”

Gio giggles weakly. “His bum?”

“Yeah, normally horses use their head, but he used his bum.” I grin. “I loved that horse so much.”

“Do you still ride?” Gio asks, his voice barely above a whisper. He eats another piece of cheese.

I sip my water and nod. “I do. I love riding in the countryside, especially on the beach. It calms me down when I’m really stressed out.”

“Wish we could ride a horse away from here,” he says in that same quiet voice.

I’m about to respond when the cell door opens. I turn around to see one of the earlier guards there.

“You,” he points to me. “Get up. Tony wants you.”