I can hear his steady heartbeat and feel his warm body against my back. We fit together perfectly, and that very thought frightens me to the core. My heart hurts as I try to ignore it. But this isn’t right. I’m not okay. I’m falling in love with a man who’s taken me against my will. These feelings can’t be real. I need to leave. I have to get the fuck out of here before I lose what little sanity of I have left. Before he kills me.

I slowly move away from him and hate myself. I watch him sleeping peacefully and I have to cover my mouth to keep the sob from coming up and waking him. If I don’t leave now, I may never have another chance. And I know I have to leave.

I walk as quickly and quietly as I can. I remember him leaving the keys in the dining room. I know it’s a risk trying to leave. He could come down here. He could take me back upstairs by force, or he could lock me away in the cell, and part of me hopes he does. I’m sick for having these thoughts, and I know it. But I use the knowledge that his familia won’t keep me safe to motivate me. I summon my strength and force my limbs to move and go to the door. I take one last look around, gripping the frame and try to keep down the sickness threatening to come up.

I can’t even take anything with me, because it’s all locked in a room I don’t have a code for. If that’s not a fucking sign that this was never real, I don’t know what is.

Rain beats against my skin and thin clothes as I run to the car. My heart pangs sporadically and I don’t know if it’s from the pain or the fear.

What hurts the most is knowing I would have stayed. I never would have questioned him. What we had was fucked up. But it was my fucked up fairytale come true. I loved him. I know I still do.

Tears cloud my vision and I brush them away, shoving the keys into the ignition. I look over my shoulder and hate the pain growing in my chest. I’m leaving him. I don’t want to, but a small part of me is saying if I don’t leave him now, I never will. Is it so wrong? I can’t answer the question. “Forgive me,” I whisper as I put the car in reverse and turn the wheel.

I don’t care if it’s wrong, I fucking loved him. Even knowing he was going to kill me, I still love him and all his broken pieces.

I wipe the bastard tears from my eyes and sniffle as I speed away. I’ve left him. He’s the only man I’ve ever truly loved, and I’ve left him. The car swerves and I fight the steering wheel in the rain to stay on the road. I try to steady my breath as a pain radiates in my chest.

In two turns, I’m out of the development and onto the busy road. It’s late. It’s nearly deserted, with just three cars parked at the front of the entrance.

I had to go, didn’t I? I’m not safe with him. I shake my head in denial. He’d keep me safe, but he’d have to fight the world to keep me. I feel so torn and so confused. I hit the brakes and turn off the side of the road. I let the tears consume me.

I know I need to keep going. I need to run as fast as I can. He’s going to find me if I stay here. The thought brings me more comfort than anything else. Maybe I’m sick. Maybe the feelings I have aren’t healthy. But I hold on to them so I can calm myself. As I look in my rear-view mirror I spot the three cars from earlier driving toward me. None of the cars have their headlights on.

Something triggers inside of me and I quickly put the car into drive and hit the gas. As I speed up, so do they.

My heart beats in my chest with a fear I haven’t felt in so long. They’ve found me. I swallow thickly and search the cars for a face. I don’t know if it’s the Valettis or the Cassanos, but as I make a sharp right and see them follow me, I know it’s one or the other. I wish I could turn around and drive back to him. To Anthony. I wish he were here. I wish he could save me.

He would save me.

Out of instinct, I yell for Anthony. Tears fall down my face. No! I hit the gas harder and the back end of the car swerves. I try to straighten the wheel as my hands grip the leather and I pull to the right, but the car spins out, and in a blur my body smashes to the side. My head smacks against the wheel and my body falls limp. My hand touches my forehead and I look down at my fingers only to see blood. My vision spins and my breath feels hollow, but I have to run. I unbuckle the seatbelt and prepare to run. I have to run. I have to fight.

As my hand grips the handle, the door opens and I look up to see a sick smile from the last person I ever want to see.

“My little mouse came back to me.” I hear his words, followed by the smash of his fist against the side of my temple. I’m vaguely aware that he’s gripping my hair and pulling me out of the car, but I can’t move my legs. Slowly, darkness overwhelms me, and I lose the battle to stay awake.