When Love Runs Dry

My hand faltered. I pulled it back.

Salvatore had always said that any woman who tried to get pregnant with his child deserved to die.

Maybe Carmela was the one to change his mind.

I didn't look at him, which only seemed to make him angrier. He shoved me into a large walk-in closet and locked the door.

The noises they made that night were loud. I was trapped in that cramped space, forced to listen to it all.

Sometime in the haze, a shrill ringing from my phone woke me.

"Is this Miss Benedetto? Your mother has been shot. She's in emergency surgery right now. Please come to Sacred Heart Hospital immediately."

My heart seized in my chest.

"Salvatore!"

I started pounding on the closet door, trying to drown out the sounds from the bed.

Salvatore, wrapped in a robe with a collar full of love bites, finally opened the door. The woman clung to him, not moving an inch.

"What is it?"

"My mother's been shot. Please, can you take me to the hospital?" I begged him from my knees, tears streaming down my face, terrified he'd refuse just to spite me.

"Francesca, are you serious? Do you even think before you lie? It's three in the morning, and it's snowing. Your mother lives in the safest gated community in the city. What happened? Did a drone strike hit the place?"

Carmela snickered, pointing to the black sky and the blizzard outside.

Salvatore laughed along with her, not even bothering to look at me. "Francesca, you'd even stoop to this just for a little attention?"

Carmela purred, "What's wrong? Was I louder than you? You want to join in?"

I practically crawled out of his bedroom. The villa was on lockdown. In desperation, I grabbed a chair and smashed a window, climbing out into the storm.

Sharp glass tore my hand open, blood streaming down my arm.

It was too late and snowing too hard to find a cab. I just ran through the blizzard, my own blood mixing with the melting snow and dripping from my fingertips.

Beep, beep. A black Cadillac pulled up beside me.

"Get in."