Total pages in book: 16
Estimated words: 15455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 77(@200wpm)___ 62(@250wpm)___ 52(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 15455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 77(@200wpm)___ 62(@250wpm)___ 52(@300wpm)
More tears well up in my eyes.
“I don’t have anywhere to go,” I say.
“I don’t care!” she replies. “I’m not dealing with another fucking baby.” She shoves me away. “Now get. Out.”
I pick up the clothes and clutch them close, desperate for something to hug.
“But I can fix this,” I mutter.
“No, you can’t!” she says. “It’s illegal. Did you forget the fucking news? It’s not allowed here anymore. And I’m not going to go down for your mistake. Not again.”
Again? I’ve never been pregnant before.
Unless she means … giving birth to me.
She pushes me so hard, I have to grab ahold of the staircase railing to stop myself from falling.
“Leave!” she shrieks madly.
I turn and run down the stairs, terrified she might throw me down if I don’t go faster.
The scent of food fills my nostrils, but I push my hunger away and head straight for the front door.
“And don’t you ever think of coming back again!” she yells as I shut the door behind me, blinking away the tears that keep coming. “You hear me? Leave me alone!”
I run out into the streets, as far away from the house as possible without looking back.
I can’t stomach the thought of looking, let alone thinking about the home I left behind.
I didn’t have much, but the room I slept in was mine. The clothes I wore were mine. The tiny bear I had was mine.
I didn’t even have the time to grab any of it before she kicked me to the curb.
After a while, my legs begin to hurt, but I keep running until it begins to rain.
My clothes slowly get soaking wet until I don’t even have that anymore.
I drop them somewhere near a store and keep running.
They’ll only drag me down.
I don’t know where I’m going or what I’ll do next.
All I know is that I couldn’t stay there for a minute longer.
God, I tried. I tried so long, so hard to live according to her rules, but even that wasn’t enough.
I pause when I finally find an alley that doesn’t look like a place where criminals meet. I huddle in the corner, hugging my legs for comfort because no one else ever would.
***
Vincenzo
I lean back against the car seat while the driver turns left and check my phone. Six days until my next scheduled meeting. Fifty-two minutes spent in the previous conversation. Two minutes too many.
I shake my head. That won’t happen again.
My time is precious, and every wasted minute is one too many. Especially on those lot.
My fingers tighten around the phone.
There’s another private message, but I ignore it and stuff my phone back into my pocket, then turn to look out the window. Gazing at the people going about their regular day-to-day life always calms me. It’s the fact that it’s quiet. Without any need to respond or smile at passersby. Like a cocoon I’ve enveloped myself in while I journey from one place to another. And there is absolutely nothing that I can do except sit back and enjoy.
Until my eyes land on a peculiar girl huddled in a corner between two apartment buildings.
“Stop,” I command my driver.
“Sir?” he mutters. “You never—”
I glare at him through the rearview mirror until he swallows and immediately stops the car near the side of the road.
“Stay here and wait for me,” I say before I open the car door and hop out.
The streets are filled with trash and mud, and I skip over a puddle in disgust. Even an ounce of that type of gunk on my shoes makes me want to hurl. But when I spot the girl again, I forget about caring and walk over to her.
She’s not even remotely aware of my presence as I walk up to her, despite the fact that I tower over her and block the streetlights. Rain pitter-patters down onto the pavement and my clothes, which would normally annoy the shit out of me. But right now, all I can focus on is the soft sobs emanating from the girl just a few inches away from me.
Finally, she tilts her head ever so slightly, and her eyes immediately land on my boots. Slowly, they creep up my fitted pants and Colbert until her beautiful brown eyes connect with mine.
Her pupils dilate, and she gasps in shock. “Who are you?” She leans back. “What do you want?”
I cock my head while I crouch and extend a hand. “Vincenzo Ricci.”
Her eyes flick back and forth from my face to my hand, her lip twitching with distrust.
“I’m here to help,” I add.
She narrows her eyes. “Why?”
A smile creeps onto my face.
In this world, a healthy amount of skepticism is necessary to survive.
She’s smart.
“Because you look like you need it,” I reply.
She frowns and wipes a wet strand of hair off her face. “I don’t need help.”